King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

Since we’d had lunch with our fathers, Savvy had been a different person. Skittish. Uncertain. Subdued. The bold, determined woman who’d challenged me when I was taking pictures and marched to the altar with the confidence of a card shark approaching a high-stakes poker table hadn’t made a reappearance.

I missed that Savvy.

I had to do something that’d break the ice between us, but small talk in the snow wasn’t it. I stooped down and grabbed a handful of snow. Straightening, I packed it into a loose ball and eyed her.

Her expression turned wary. “You’d better not be thinking about—”

I lobbed the snowball, a gentle toss that wouldn’t take her out.

A squeal escaped and she darted out of the way. It landed with a splat behind her. I grabbed another handful.

“What are you . . .” She narrowed her eyes at me and dove for her own handful.

In the second that she was turned and bent over, I aimed and threw my snowball at her ass.

Snow splattered her pants and she jumped, losing what she’d gathered for snow. “I can’t believe you hit me with my back turned.”

“You don’t grow up with three brothers and pass up these opportunities.”

“Sisters aren’t easy either.” She swooped down and loaded both hands.

My laughter was eaten by the wind as I loped through the snow to get out of range. A thunk hit next to me. A solid thump landed square in my back.

“Nice,” I called and made another snowball.

She was advancing until I faced her and sprinted, my work boots cutting into the snow.

With a yell, she spun and ran across the lawn. The snow was slushy enough to slow her. She was wearing snow pants and I wasn’t, but that didn’t stop me. I dropped my snowball and tackled her, spinning her to keep from plastering her into the snow.

Her holler rang across the lawn as she landed on top of me. Her breath whooshed out, the condensation cloud dissipating with mine. I wanted to laugh, but I waited, my heart clogging my throat until she let out a full-bodied laugh.

She slapped me on both shoulders. Her thick gloves hampered the hit even more than my coat. “Xander! You’re going to be soaked.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m two miles away from my cabin in a heavy forest full of bears and an impending snowstorm.”

“That sounds scary.”

“Newbie mistake in Alaska.” I kept my arms around her. Her weight on top of me wasn’t enough to warm me and the longer I stayed in the snow, the more soaked my jeans would get. But I’d lie in a glacier for hours just to keep her here. “No bears found me worth feasting on.”

“The scariest thing I’ve ever had to face in the winter was a snowman Em put a Friday the Thirteenth mask on. She built it right outside my window one night after I went to bed. I couldn’t sleep for a week.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.” Her cheeks glowed red and her breath puffed out. Sexy and adorable at the same time.

“We can build a snowman right now. Make it a pudgy, cute one.”

“You need to get into dry clothes.”

“That’ll wait.”

She pushed off and my body mourned the loss. “If we hurry up and do it, will you get inside and change? I’ll come up with something warm to drink. Is that good?” She held out a hand.

I was tempted to grab her hand and pull her down on top of me again, but I didn’t want to backtrack on the small amount of progress I’d made. “Yes, ma’am.”

I rolled up, taking her hand to help me up though I didn’t need it.

“I’ll start with the base.” She crouched and wadded some snow together, then rolled and packed it.

I wasn’t the kind of photographer whose camera was never far away. On the road, I had to earn a living. Sometimes, I kept it with me in order to make sure it was safe and secure. Other times, it was less hazardous to keep it in my luggage or find a lockbox. But I regretted not having it hanging around my neck right now.

Savvy’s joy radiated off her as she crawled in the snow. To keep from staring and making her so uncomfortable she’d scrap the snowman idea, I dropped to my knees to start the snowman’s midsection.

While we worked, we only chatted about our project. How big should the base be? Should I start on the head now? I don’t think we have any regular carrot sticks, just baby carrots. But it was enough. The Savvy I’d met in Vegas emerged and took charge.

She rose and brushed off her knees and clapped her gloves together to shake snow loose. “Why don’t you assemble it and I’ll find eyes and a nose?”

“You got it.”

She tromped away and I did as she asked. My legs were turning numb, but I kept on. Getting frostbite on half my body was worth waiting to see her reaction at the finished snowman.

“Here we are.” She appeared behind me as I was packing snow between the connections to keep it stable. “Black olives are going to have to work for the eyes. I’m not hunting down charcoal. And we were out of carrots but had celery.”

I stood back to watch her push in the eyes. She produced a purple fedora and a gauzy scarf she’d probably stolen from her mother’s part of the coat closet.

She took a step back next to me and we eyed our work. She rolled her lips in and tilted her head.

It didn’t matter how she looked at it, the effect wouldn’t get better. “He looks like he’s ready to catch a show on Broadway.”

Her head dropped back and she laughed, a hearty sound that rang across the white lawn. “An Abbot snowman would be more likely to go to the theater than sledding like Frosty.”

We grinned at each other, the dry air growing charged between us.

“Oh!” She clapped her hands. “The milk is