"And Natalia… don’t use the kids in whatever plans you have. They’re off-limits, do I make myself clear?"
I suck in my lower lip and then nod. "Crystal clear."
"Good." Then he turns and leaves.
My phone vibrates for a third time. It’s Carey again.I exhale and answer it, eyes still on Luka’s retreating back.
I still have no idea how I’m going to break through to him, but with three days down, I’m losing time.
But it’s not over yet.
Chapter Fourteen
LUKA
There are more skiers out today, getting in the way of me trying to outrun the last couple of days with Natalia.
The way she felt when I caught her before she hit the trees. The fact that I wanted to keep holding her even after I put her back on her feet. How we shared about our lives over lunch. Finding out that she’s not immune to a shit father of her own. I watched her shoulders finally relax around me, a softness in her eyes, and the way she was interested in everything I told her.
The way she looked at me when she saw me coaching those kids on the ice… like maybe she thinks I might not be the man the tabloids say I am.
The trouble is, I don’t trust anyone, and a PR agent looking to dig into my life is the last person I should be opening up to. Butfor some reason, I let down my guard for an hour and gave her more than I tell most anyone else besides the guys on the team and my sister.
I took the black diamond run twice more before my phone buzzed.
Kat's name flashes across the screen. I considered ignoring it. My sister has terrible timing, but I answer anyway.
"You're up early," I say, guessing that it’s about six am in Whitefish, Montana.
"Scottie took me down to help the neighbor milk the cows this morning. The rooster wasn’t even awake yet." Her voice is bright, happy in a way that still catches me off guard. "I made pancakes on my own to surprise his parents. They taste terrible. Scottie loves them."
Despite everything, I smile. Scottie would eat a lampshade if my sister told him that she made it for him for breakfast. The guy is a food dumpster, and he’s also crazy about my sister. "Domestic life suits you."
"It really does." A pause. "How's Switzerland?"
"Cold."
"Luka," I hear the annoyance in her voice.
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you're not torturing yourself up there." Another pause. "That the crisis manager is helping. She’s also really cute. Penelope did some digging on social media, and she’s single. Is there anything going on between you two?"
Natalia's face flashes through my mind. The way she laughed yesterday at lunch when I told her that my dorm mates in the all-boys boarding school and I had smuggled a one-eyed tabby named Lord Whiskers into our floor.
"She's competent," I say.
"That's not what I asked."
"She's helping, and no, there’s nothing going on. I’m her client."
I hear the moment I use Natalia’s excuse. The one I continue to argue with her about. That I’m not her client.
Kat makes a soft sound, the one that means she's reading between my carefully chosen words. "Scottie wants to know if you're being nice to her."
"Why wouldn't I be nice?"
"Because you're you." I hear Scottie yell across the room.
