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Snowed In With A Billionaire
Karen Booth


Uncover the dazzling secrets of the A-list!Joy McKinley just had an embarrassing encounter with one of the wealthiest, sexiest men she’s ever met. He found her hiding out in someone else’s house under a name that isn’t hers but when they get snowed in together, can their romance survive the truth?







There’s a sexy secret under the tree this Christmas...

With no money and her real name under wraps, chef Joy McKinley isn’t expecting the greatest Christmas. At least her hideout is a luxury mountaintop estate. But when a gorgeous, gallant, incredibly sexy billionaire ends up snowbound with her, Joy wishes she could tell Alexander Townsend the whole truth about herself. Especially when the one thing she shares is her bed—and then discovers he has as many trust issues as she does. Will keeping secrets cost Joy the best Christmas gift she’s ever received?


“We have at least a whole day stuck in this house together,” Alex said.

He was now using both hands to massage Joy’s shoulders. It felt so good, his fingers so strong and insistent, she wanted them all over her body right now.

With the two of them alone in this big, beautiful house, it seemed like the best use of their time to just tear each other’s clothes off and fall into bed.

“What should we do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You have any ideas?” she muttered. Just kiss me.

“Well, it’s nearly Christmas and it’s a little sad that there are zero decorations up in this house.”

She’d done her best to leave behind no trace of herself while she was here. She had to.

He smiled and she thought she might melt into a puddle right there on the carpet. The bed was only paces away. He’d hardly need to do anything to have her.

Get your head out of the clouds. She had to be sensible.

* * *

Snowed in with a Billionaire

is part of the Secrets of the A-List series:

When you have it all, you’ll do anything to keep it


Snowed in with a Billionaire

Karen Booth






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KAREN BOOTH is a Midwestern girl transplanted to the South, raised on ’80s music, Judy Blume and the films of John Hughes. She writes sexy big-city love stories. When she takes a break from the art of romance, she’s teaching her kids about good music, honing her Southern cooking skills or sweet-talking her husband into whipping up a batch of cocktails. Find out more about Karen at www.karenbooth.net.


Special thanks and acknowledgement are

given to Karen Booth for her contribution

to the Secrets of the A-List series.


Contents

Cover (#ufb688c64-c758-56c8-b7b8-185b331b262f)

Back Cover Text (#u7d3c73ac-c008-5933-90e5-d799592afd95)

Introduction (#u96bbe339-761f-57d7-8166-7efec661c76b)

Title Page (#u770c62bb-ebb0-56cb-abbb-a6e260520ce0)

About the Author (#u29152d00-d246-5d89-823f-778043f2bec0)

Acknowledgement (#u510c5280-fdcf-581f-ab54-877360e57067)

One (#u5c4424e8-7246-556b-8c91-87c8ab505e66)

Two (#u9be32856-ced0-5ba5-b3e5-9d12248e84b8)

Three (#ua5054668-979f-532c-981f-d575bc5842f0)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#u589c9765-0c71-529a-8e79-eeb1b1f3b65f)

Joy McKinley hated to lie to anyone, especially someone as sweet as her fellow bakery worker, Natalie. But she had no choice.

“This is me. On the right. Don’t bother pulling into the driveway. It’s tough to back out. Cars whiz around that turn so fast.” Snow was coming down like crazy now. By all accounts, they were in for one heck of a storm.

“Cute house.” Natalie peered through the window at the rustic cabin Joy had driven past every day on her way up the mountain. Her blond curls poked out from underneath her gray-and-white-striped knit hat. It had a giant pom-pom on top. “You make enough at the bakery to live here by yourself?”

If Natalie knew where Joy was really staying, her eyes would have popped out of her head. This house wasn’t nice enough to be the shed behind the one she was currently living in. “It’s really not that nice. It’s a total fixer-upper on the inside. And it’s just until I decide whether or not I’m staying in Vail long-term.”

Every fib out of Joy’s mouth, however small, ate at her. That was the reason she’d kept to herself since coming to Vail—it was easier to live covertly if you never had to speak to anyone about the details of your life. It made for a solitary existence though, one that was starting to chew a hole through Joy’s sanity and sense of self, especially now that Christmas was almost here. Unfortunately, lies and lone-wolfing were the best ways to keep her cover, and keep it she must.

Natalie’s car quaked and rumbled as it idled, but at least it was still spitting out heat. December in Colorado was no joke. Although Joy had grown up in Ohio and had lived through her fair share of bitter cold winters, she’d lost much of her immunity to chilly temperatures while living in LA and Santa Barbara over the last few years.

“Which way are you leaning? Staying or going?” Natalie asked.

“I’m not sure. I need to weigh my options, find a permanent place to live. Let me know if you hear of anyone who needs a roommate. I’d love to share the rent with someone.”

“I’ll definitely ask around. We’d hate to lose you at the bakery. I love working with you.”

“That’s so sweet of you to say. I love working with you, too.” Joy nodded eagerly. Those words were the truth. Still, her pulse was starting to thunder in her ears. What if the real owner of this house came outside, wondering what a strange car was doing idling out front? What if they suddenly came home? The thought put her too close to the edge, a place she’d spent the last several months. Someday she would get settled. Someday she wouldn’t have to be a nomad.

“Just so you know, I’m not trying to guilt you into staying. Seems like you’re pretty overqualified to work there.”

“I’m really not overqualified. Pastries and baking are just as much work as French or Italian cuisine.” Those were Joy’s specialties, but if she started talking about food, she’d never get out of the car, and she was already tempting fate by sitting there. Needing to force the issue, she pulled the handle and opened her car door. “I should go. I’m beat from today and you should really get home before the snow gets any worse.”

Natalie leaned across the seat and looked up at Joy. “Do you want me to talk to my brother about helping you with your car? He works cheap if I tell him it’s a favor to me.”

Even cheap is too expensive for me. “It’s nice of you to offer. I’ll let you know. Thanks so much for the ride. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Of course, I have no clue how I’m going to get there, but I’ll worry about that later.

“If the bakery stays open in this storm. I’d check in with Bonnie later tonight before you go to bed. She’ll tell you what the contingency plan is based on the forecast.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.” Joy dawdled on her way to the mailbox, pretending to fumble with her bag, then stood with her hand on the pull, waving at Natalie. As soon as she was out of view, Joy pulled back her hand. Knowing her luck, she’d get saddled with federal mail tampering charges.

Joy waited another moment, standing perfectly still as snow fell all around her, collecting on her shoulders and her nose. As soon as she was certain Natalie was long gone, she doubled back to the end of the street and started her long walk up the hill to the sprawling luxurious mountain estate of her former employers, Harrison and Mariella Marshall. Landing the job as head chef at the Marshalls’ estate in Santa Barbara, California, had been a dream come true. Now she was enduring a bizarre bad dream, one in which her surroundings were still luxe and of the Marshall variety, but the reality was decidedly less shiny.

Harrison Marshall, one of the world’s original celebrity chefs, owned a global culinary empire. Working for him was the ultimate foot in the door when it came to being a chef. Unfortunately, Harrison had been in a near-fatal car accident soon after Joy began working for him. In the aftermath, Harrison’s family unraveled, especially his wife, Mariella. She used Joy as a verbal punching bag, launching unprovoked tirades about things as minor as what type of table salt to use. One day, Mariella pushed too hard, and Joy quit. With little money and zero prospects, she walked away from the best job she’d ever had.

Only empathy from Mariella’s son Rafe had saved her, and it was a temporary fix. He’d given her the keys to the Vail house, saying she was okay to stay until mid-January, when his siblings would likely come to ski. It was such a beautiful home, her stay was a respite, of sorts, but she still needed to work, and the only employment she’d found was at the bakery downtown. It was money and that was all that mattered.

Normally, Joy would be driving her beat-up car home from the bakery at this time of day, rocking forward and back in the driver’s seat and praying it would make it all the way to the top. Not today. The cantankerous piece of junk had decided not to start that morning. This was after she’d just spent the only significant chunk of money she had, nearly six hundred dollars, on fixing it. She would’ve been better off abandoning the car and keeping that money for a deposit on an apartment. The clock was ticking on that front. Mid-January would be here before she knew it.

She’d considered borrowing one of the three cars in the Marshalls’ five-car garage, all of which had to cost more money than she could make in five years. As someone who was supposed to be laying low, driving around town in a showstopper of a vehicle was a recipe for attracting too much attention. She’d attempted to borrow one of the family’s bicycles, but she only made it partway down the icy driveway before nearly wiping out. At that point, out of options and on the verge of being late for a job she absolutely needed, she’d decided to spend her last available cash on a taxi. Hence the ride home from Natalie.

The storm seemed to be gaining momentum now. The fluffy fat flakes from earlier were turning to icy pellets. The wind was blowing like crazy, howling between the trees and rustling snow from the branches in dramatic swirls. With a deluge of frozen precipitation pummeling her face, she had to squint in order to see. Joy tugged her scarf up around her ears and over her mouth. It was hard work to scale the hill, and she was breaking out into a sweat, even in the freezing temperatures. The high down in Vail that day had only been twenty-eight degrees. She got off work from the bakery at 3:00 p.m. each day, and it was nearly five now. The sun had set. The brittle night air grated against her cheeks; it worked its way into her bones. Colorado was beautiful, but Joy wasn’t sure she was cut out for being a snow bunny long-term. She would’ve done anything at that moment for a margarita and a beach.

She dug the toes of her boots into the compacted snow, trudging away, careful to stay as far to the side of the road as possible. So much snow had fallen over the last few weeks that waist-high banks lined both sides of the street. She zipped her jacket up around her face and focused on what was waiting for her when she reached the top. She visualized the unbelievable bed she’d been sleeping in every night, the fluffy king-sized pillow-top in Mariella’s daughter’s room. Climbing in and sinking into that luxurious mattress, swishing her bare feet against the fine sheets, was pure heaven. It was her reward for surviving every day. It was also her safe place, a place where she didn’t allow herself to become mired in negative thoughts or worries about where she would go next or what she was going to do in terms of building a future. Yes, she was living a borrowed life right now, and a clandestinely borrowed one at that, but she had to be thankful for what she had. A roof over her head and a warm place to sleep were at the top of the list of her blessings.

The incline was getting steeper. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder. Her breaths came faster, icy air slicing through her lungs. Everything was freezing—her feet, her thighs, her fingers, and especially her cheeks. She started to shake from the cold. Think of the bed. Think of the bed. Just then a soft glow came from around the bend. Light bounced off the snowbanks and the snow-covered branches of the dense stands of trees all around her. The light became brighter. It swept from side to side. But it was the strangest thing. There was no noise. She’d typically hear a car by now. And then came a recognizable sound—the crunch of tires over snow.

The black car came into view, up at the very top of the hill. She inched closer to the side of the road to be safe. She waved her hand to make sure the driver saw her, and he seemed to, slowly moving to the center of the road. She looked down at her feet for an instant and the next thing she knew, the car was skidding across a patch of ice, drifting closer to the opposite side. She could see his exact trajectory. He was going to go into the ditch. The car turned sharply. An overcorrection. The back end fishtailed. The car slid sideways. The tires crunched against the snow again. The driver had slammed on the brakes. But it kept going. Coming right for her. Run. That was all she could think. But which way? Up seemed like the only answer. Her feet slipped. She fell forward, clawing at the snow with her hands, scrambling out of the way. The headlights blinded her. The car barreled at her. She righted herself and scrambled. Not enough time. She did the only thing she could do. She dove into a snowbank.

Cold shot through her entire body, like a tidal wave fueled by adrenaline. She took a sharp breath, her lungs filled with unbelievable iciness. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. Snow was everywhere. Like she’d jumped into the deepest part of the ocean and was surrounded by icebergs. She flailed about, all arms and legs, struggling to stand. She couldn’t get a foothold. There was no solid ground. Only snow to breathe and swallow. Did people drown in snowbanks? She was about to find out. Leave it to her to be the first person to accomplish such a feat. As she struggled with her arms, trying to push herself up, something grabbed her leg. Oh, God. A bear.

It was full-on panic—flailing, fighting and kicking. She screamed at the top of her lungs and managed to roll to her back. Whatever had her in its clutches was pulling on her now. She dug her hands into the snow, trying to stop her progress, but the beast was too strong for her. She couldn’t fight it off. She was going to get eaten by a bear. Now she wished she was back to drowning in the snow.

With a thump, her butt landed on hard ground. The bear let go. She kicked and screamed. A dark figure loomed over her. It was lit from behind. Wait a minute. If this was a bear, he had very nice shoulders and an awfully nice head of hair.

“Are you okay?” the figure asked, desperately. “Give me your hand.”

Joy was finally able to sit up, but she couldn’t stand. She was still gathering her wits. She stared at the figure. A man. It was a man. Behind him was a car. The car. The lights beamed across the road. The man in the car had pulled her out of the snowbank. It was all starting to come together. He crouched down in front of her, grasping her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. “Are you hurt? Can you hear me?”

She wasn’t merely disoriented when her eyes were able to focus and he came into sharper view. For a second she thought she might be dead. Wow. He’s handsome. He’s like a fairy-tale prince. A real one, with thick dark hair that held a perfect wave. His eyes were icy blue. He even had a dimple in his chin.

That was it. She was dead.

The handsome prince dug in his pocket and pulled out a phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. You must be in shock.”

Joy instinctively grabbed his wrist. “No. No. I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and as the air fully filled her lungs, she realized she was not dead. Plus, her hand had landed on firm man. A real man. “I’m so sorry. I just... I didn’t know what to do and it was my first instinct to jump into the snow. I’m sure that seems crazy.”

“Do you think you’re okay to stand up?”

“Probably.” She nodded. As soon as she was on her feet, she saw that she had not been crazy to leap into the snow. The rear end of his car had stopped just shy of the bank. “Wow. I could have been hit.”

“I’m so sorry. I ran into a patch of ice and lost control of the car. Sometimes these precision vehicles do what you want them to and sometimes they don’t.” The handsome prince had a very deep voice, rich and authoritative. He was probably really good at telling people what to do. He was tall. And good God, now that she could see his face in its entirety, she couldn’t help but notice that he was unbearably handsome. He was all high cheekbones and full lips. A strong jaw and brow line. There was nothing soft about him. Everything was defined. He wore a black wool coat and black leather gloves. “Do you mind if I ask what in the world you were doing out here walking alongside the road in the dark?”

Oh, yeah. That. “Hiking.”

“Hiking? In those boots?” He pointed at her feet, which were clad in her brown leather boots with the chunky heel. They were surprisingly comfortable and made her butt look damn good in jeans. She didn’t wear them at work, though. She donned the chef’s clogs that were currently in her bag for the long hours on her feet.

“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just a slave to fashion.” She tittered nervously.

He narrowed his focus on her, his eyebrows drawing together so tightly they nearly touched. “Okay. Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to finish your hike. Why don’t you let me drive you home?”

Home? Oh, no. That would never work. Her home was the Marshalls’ home and absolutely no one was supposed to know she was there. For all she knew, this guy was a friend of the Marshalls. They not only knew a lot of people, most people knew of them. “I’m fine. Really.” She waved him off.

He shook his head. “No way. You are not fine. You should see yourself right now. Your hair and your makeup.” He drew a circle in the air in front of her face. “Plus, I’m not entirely sure you didn’t hit your head. I’m driving you home. If my mother were still alive, she’d be horrified if she found out that I was anything less than a perfect gentleman.”

Oh, sure. Bring your dead mother into it. “No, really...”

“No. Really. I insist. Either that or I call an ambulance for you. You’re not walking home.”

Joy blew out a breath and knew it was time to relent. If they got to the top of the hill and he said a peep about the Marshalls, she’d have to come up with a quick excuse. In the meantime, at least with Prince Charming around, she was fairly sure she wasn’t in danger of being arrested. “Okay. Sure. That’d be nice.”

* * *

Alex stepped ahead of the mystery woman and opened the passenger door for her. “I can turn on the heated seat for you in a moment.” He took care when closing the door. He still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t in shock. He was certainly disoriented. One minute he was out for a drive, trying to blow off some work-related steam, and the next thing he knew, his car was sliding down a mountain and he nearly hit a woman. The scene that followed, the epic panic in the snowbank, was like something out of a movie. He could hardly believe what he’d witnessed.

He climbed inside and glanced over at her. She was using the visor mirror to wipe away the smudges of makeup beneath her eyes and smooth her hair.

“I wasn’t trying to say you needed to primp.”

“You were right. I’m a disaster.”

Even though her hair had looked like it had been through a tornado, he couldn’t imagine her ever looking bad. In the soft light coming from the mirror, only in profile, she still stole his breath. She was a classic beauty, like something out of an old Technicolor movie—creamy complexion, lively flush on her cheeks. Her now-tidier hair was long, rolling past her shoulders in gentle waves.

“If this is your version of a disaster, I’d love to see what you look like when you’re going out.”

She turned, sizing him up with her soulful brown eyes.

He reached out his hand. “Seems like introductions are in order. I’m Alex. Well, Alexander if you want the long version. Alexander Townsend.”

She swiped off her fluffy mitten and placed her hand in his. “Nice to meet you, Alexander Townsend, although if this is your way of picking up women, I suggest you get a new technique.”

Alex laughed. Beautiful and witty. It was his lucky day. “And your name?”

She flipped the visor up, tugging her mitten back on. “Joy.”

“Nice to meet you, Joy. Just Joy or is there more to it?”

“Baker.”

“You aren’t a Denver Baker, are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“The Denver Bakers. I’m very good friends with Patrick. He and I both graduated from Columbia the same year.” The look on her face said that she was not a member of the Baker family from Denver. “I’m guessing no?”

She shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know them.”

“Ah. Well. Thought I’d ask. Where are you from, Joy Baker?”

She cleared her throat. “Santa Barbara.”

“I’m from Chicago. Not nearly as picturesque as coastal California, but it’s home.”

“Sounds nice.”

This conversation didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Probably best to move along. “Where can I take you?”

“Do you know this road well?”

“Clearly, I don’t.”

She pointed up the hill. “It’s at the top. Just drive and I’ll show you.”

He followed her directions, the headlights casting golden beams across the silver snow. That bit of friendly back-and-forth had been pleasant enough, but reality was sinking in. He could have killed her. For all he knew, she was injured. Bleeding internally? Head trauma? All possible. The thought set him doubly on edge. His protective side came out with all women, sometimes to his own detriment. It was a product of his childhood, years of his father mistreating his mother, and Alex having to be the buffer. He had to remind himself that he hardly knew Joy. There was no reason to protect her any more than any other stranger.

But there was reason to worry. With his money, and his family name, he had been the frequent target of unscrupulous people. The most notable of which had been his former fiancée, and although that was a chapter of his life best left closed, it did make him wary of people and their intentions.

“It’s up here. On the left. You can just pull up to the gate and I’ll get out.”

He crested the hill and the vista opened up, almost as if they were perched on top of the world. It was all vast blue-black sky and stars up here; the house Joy had pointed to a showpiece that seemed to go on forever. His shoulders lightened. He had no need to worry about her intentions. Joy, from the look of things, had more than enough of her own resources.

He pulled closer to the gate and rolled down his window. “Code?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine. I’ll just get out right here. You can go now.”

Alex didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like he saw himself as God’s gift to women, but he was certainly not accustomed to getting the swift brush-off. Usually, women enjoyed being in his company. And it wasn’t like he’d asked her out. This was a ride up the driveway. “I promise I won’t memorize it. I work in finance, but I’m actually horrible with numbers. Well, small ones at least.” He laughed quietly at his own joke, but she didn’t. Idiot.

“I just... I don’t know that I should let you in.”

He nodded, trying to understand what sort of vibe he was giving off that made her so uneasy. Part of him wanted to tell her that he was the most trustworthy guy imaginable when it came to women, always a perfect gentleman, but what kind of guy says that? Someone who’s the exact opposite, that’s who. The trouble was, he wasn’t entirely certain she was okay after her swan dive into the snowbank. “I don’t want to bring up my mom again, but can’t a guy at least drive you to the door? That driveway has to be at least a five-minute walk. Probably ten in those boots. Which are completely inappropriate for hiking, by the way. I can’t believe you got in a single step before you wiped out.”

“If you’ll stop criticizing my footwear choices, I’ll let you drive me up.”

“Deal.”

“The code is 6274.”

He punched in the numbers and the tall wrought iron gate pulled back behind a towering stone pillar topped with a craftsman light fixture. The car crept ahead, but with this much power under the hood, he was careful not to gun it. The house was impressive as they approached, with tall windows peeking out from under at least a dozen gables, supported by honed timber trusses. The roof was blanketed in snow, the exterior clad in cedar shakes and trim. This gorgeous mountain lodge could likely sleep twenty people comfortably.

“Beautiful home you have here. It reminds me of my place in Switzerland. Of course, the skiing over there is better, but I wanted a quick getaway this Christmas, so my house in Vail seemed like the right choice.”

“Oh. Um. This isn’t my house. It belongs to friends of mine.”

“Who are your friends? Maybe I know them.”

“Uh. The Santiago family? They’re letting me stay here for a while.” Her voice was a bit shaky and unsure. Maybe she really had been hurt in the fall.

“Hmm. I don’t know them. You’re staying here by yourself?”

“Well, yes. Wanted some time to myself. Life gets crazy.” Joy collected her things and opened her car door. “Thank you, again.” She turned back to him only this time, there was a momentary connection difficult to ignore.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do.” Something about this wasn’t right. “Hey. Is it okay if we exchange numbers? I want you to be able to call me if you aren’t feeling well.”

She pressed her lips together like she was trying to escape a deeply uncomfortable situation. “How about I just take your number?”

Fair enough. “Sure thing.” He rattled off the digits and she put it into her phone, or at least he thought she did.

With that, she climbed out, closed her door, and scaled the grand sweep of stone stairs leading up to the front porch. Joy was tall, her legs long and lithe, but she looked tiny compared to the massive wood double door. She keyed her way in and as soon as she disappeared inside, he put the car into Reverse and backed up. Her sweet fragrance lingered—an aroma like spun sugar. It’d been months since he’d been on a date with a woman, and even just a few minutes with Joy was going to haunt him. He had a sense she was holding back or hiding something.

Hopefully, it wasn’t that she’d been hurt in the accident.


Two (#u589c9765-0c71-529a-8e79-eeb1b1f3b65f)

Joy flipped the dead bolt and collapsed against the door. That had been entirely too close a call. When Rafe Marshall, Mariella’s son, had said she could stay in the house, he’d been explicit about one thing—no one could know she was there. His mother would kill him if she found out he’d given sanctuary to someone who’d dared to quit her employ, and the Marshalls knew a lot of people in Vail. A lot of very wealthy, powerful people. People like Alex.

Thank goodness she’d been quick enough to say that the house belonged to the Santiago family. Santiago was Mariella Marshall’s maiden name, and luckily did not ring a bell with Alex. Joy despised these little white lies, but she was deeply concerned about her future in the culinary world. Mariella Marshall could kill her entire career, everything she’d worked so hard for, with one or two well-placed phone calls.

Joy raced to the window and pulled back the heavy gold tapestry drape, peeking outside. The red of Alex’s taillights glowed in the dark as his car cleared the gate. As soon as the wrought iron barrier completed its trip back across the driveway, she felt as though she could breathe. He was gone. Unbelievably hot Prince Charming had flown the coop. And that was a good thing, however disappointing it might seem. She’d been lonely since she’d come to Colorado. She hadn’t had a single in-person conversation that hadn’t revolved around working at the bakery. Some time with a personable, good-looking man would have been welcome. It would have been wonderful, actually.

Not for you, she reminded herself as she dropped her bag, traveled down the hall, and walked upstairs to the bedroom she’d been staying in. Rich guys were just asking for trouble. She’d met her fair share working in the restaurant world. Whether it was wealthy owners, investors or customers, men with money were too accustomed to getting whatever they wanted, when they wanted it. Joy was too bullheaded to ever put up with that.

If anything, having a man make demands sent Joy running in the opposite direction. Case in point, her hometown ex-boyfriend. He hadn’t had money, but he’d always had control. Getting away from him had been a harrowing experience. It still wasn’t over. Money and her car were obstacles, but he was the big reason she couldn’t go home at Christmas. There were no secrets in her small town. He always found out when she returned, and then he’d start circling in on her. It was best to stay away, however sad and lonely it made her to not be with her family.

Joy removed her work clothes, turned on the shower and stepped inside, closing the glass door behind her. The spray was the ideal temperature, with the perfect amount of water pressure to soothe her aching muscles. Baking was hard work, physically exhausting, possibly even more so than being a chef. Taking a mile-long hike up a mountain and ultimately landing in a snowbank had been a less-than-ideal way to end her day. She felt every bit of it.

Even though this house had unlimited hot water, she decided she couldn’t spend her entire evening in the shower. She climbed out, curled her toes into the plush bath mat, and wrapped herself up in the fluffy white towel. Everything in this house was the finest quality. Every element was chosen with an eye for luxury and comfort, and she would’ve been lying if she’d said that she didn’t appreciate every second of it.

Mariella’s daughter Elana’s bathroom was a perfect example—marble-topped vanity with custom cherry cabinetry, a shower with a waterfall head and shimmery glass tile. There was even a towel warmer. Joy didn’t use it often. It was more of a treat, which was a silly notion, but Joy didn’t want to get too accustomed to this life. She wouldn’t have it for long.

She grabbed her robe from the hook and towel-dried her hair, studying herself in the mirror. Some days it was a necessary reminder of who she was and what she was. She was Joy McKinley, a hardworking girl from Ohio. She did not come from a house like this, nor would she live in a house like this. Pipe dreams didn’t get anyone anywhere. Hard work did. She most definitely was not Joy Baker, invited guest of the Marshall family and woman perfectly at home staying by herself in a sprawling estate. She’d only let Alex believe those things because she was covering her tracks and he was nothing more than an acquaintance. A ridiculously sexy one, but a stranger nonetheless.

The security system control panel on the bathroom wall dinged. Joy jumped. Someone was at the door. Her pulse took off in a sprint. Anyone who arrived on her doorstep had already passed through the gate. Had someone from the Marshall family arrived without their key? Had Mariella Marshall invited friends to stay here, leaving Joy to explain herself and hightail it out of there? She jabbed the button for the security camera. Alex came into view in pixelated black and white. Relief washed over her, followed by a jolt of excitement. But why was he back?

“Hello?” she asked into the intercom.

“Hi. It’s Alex. From before. The car? The hill?” He was so adorable, talking into the doorbell instead of looking up at the security camera.

“Yes. I remember.”

“I got halfway home and I had to turn around. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She waited to answer. She really wanted to invite him in. She wanted to have a real conversation. If he didn’t want to talk, she could just stare at him for a while or maybe she could convince him that a brief make-out session with a stranger was totally normal. “I feel fine. I think.”

“See? That’s a problem. I think I should call 911. This could be serious.”

“No. Please don’t do that.”

“Can you come to the door and talk to me?”

He was the most insistent man she’d been around in a long time. “Fine. I’m coming.” Down the stairs she thundered. She opened the door but quickly remembered she was wearing a bathrobe and nothing else, and stopped herself from flinging it wide open. She greeted him by poking her head out through the narrow opening. “I’m fine.” The soft amber glow from the porch lights made him even more movie star handsome. It was going to hurt to tell him to go away.

“It doesn’t seem like you should be by yourself right now,” he said.

“I told you I’m fine.” Except that she wasn’t entirely sure she was. Her neck still felt tight, even after that long shower, and she had a headache brewing.

He pursed his lips and looked down at the ground for a moment. “I think you should see a doctor.”

“That’s not necessary. I just need to get some sleep.”

“Are you positive you didn’t hit your head? If you have a head injury, it could be a bad idea to go to sleep.”

Good God, he was persistent. “It was snow. Nothing hard to hit my head on.”

He moved his face closer to hers, studying her. The breath hitched in her throat. He had a really sexy mouth. Totally worth kissing. What if they ended up having that make-out session after all? “It seems like your pupils are pretty dilated.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that. It’s not like I can see my own eyes right now. Nor do I even know what it means if they are, in fact, dilated.”

“Can I please come in for a moment? I promise I’m not wielding an axe.”

She sighed and opened the door wider, the brutally cold air rushing in behind him. The snow was coming down even harder now, which she hadn’t thought possible. “Have you ever noticed that murderers don’t carry an axe, they wield it?”

“It just occurred to me that I shouldn’t have used axe-murderer terminology. I’m sorry. I swear I’m a good guy.” His smile was extra convincing. Alex wasn’t a threat, although she might pass out from how blindingly perfect his mouth was.

Joy couldn’t imagine finding a reason to put Alex off, even when logic said she should. That smile had done something to her. It had left a chink in her armor. “Please. Come in. You must be freezing. It’s horrible out there.”

He shook snow from his hair and stomped his boots on the foyer rug. “Yeah, the forecast isn’t looking good.” His eyes dipped south, then returned to her face. “It’s much nicer in here.”

A vaguely familiar tingle zipped through her. Was he flirting with her? Was Prince Charming making the moves? A breath of cold air crossed her shoulders and she realized then that the top of her robe had gaped quite significantly. It wasn’t a full-on wardrobe malfunction, but it wasn’t far off. She quickly covered up and re-cinched the tie. Embarrassment covered her from head to toe.

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” She wasn’t sure what else to offer the man who’d showed up at her door again.

“That would be great, but I was hoping we could call my doctor together. I’ll feel a lot better about things if you just talk to him.”

“So I don’t have to go anywhere?”

“Nope. You can do this from the comfort of your own home.”

My own home. If only. “Okay. Do you want to have a seat in the living room while I run upstairs and get dressed?”

“You don’t have to change on my account. I think you look pretty amazing just as you are.”

There it was again—that flirtatious lilt to his voice. Or maybe he was just one of those men whose every comment came off with an edge of innuendo. Regardless of whether he was trying hard or not, she had a deep desire to comb her fingers through his hair, if only to learn whether it was as thick as it looked. It’d been more than a year since she’d been with a man, and that one had been a deeply disappointing kisser—weak lips and a hesitant tongue. If a man was going to kiss her, she wanted him to go for it. Send a message. Alex looked like he could knock a woman off her heels with a single kiss. And here they were, all alone in this big beautiful house, she in a near state of undress.

“You’re sweet, but I think it would be best if I was wearing something that more closely resembled clothes. I’ll be right back.”

She turned and darted up the stairs, mumbling to herself, “What in the hell are you doing? Why did you let him inside? That was really, really dumb. We’re going to call his doctor? At night? How weird is that?”

Learning firsthand how adept Alex was at talking her into something, she needed to remain on her toes. She also needed to remain calm and allow him to leave of his own accord. Making a stink was a good way to arouse suspicion, and she didn’t want to give him any reason to decide she was acting strangely or quite possibly didn’t belong in this house. For all she knew, he’d call the police. Surely a guy as thorough and conscientious as Alex wouldn’t even hesitate to turn her in if he thought she wasn’t on the up-and-up. She had to do her best to appear to belong here. She had to make things seem as normal as possible, then hope he would leave so she could return to her sad, but relatively safe existence where she still got to sleep in an amazing bed.

Dressed in far less revealing pajama pants, tank top and hoodie, Joy hurried back downstairs. As she turned the corner for the living room, she saw the glow and heard the crackle of a fire in the hearth. She hadn’t bargained on Alex making himself at home. “Oh. You built a fire.”

“Well, yeah. Look at it out there.” He tossed his head toward the long wall of the living room, where the windows soared to the top of the cathedral ceiling and stood in single file like soldiers. The night sky was a midnight blue, dotted with fat, glowing snowflakes. “That’s half the point of having a mountain house. To build a roaring fire when it’s snowing.”

Except that building a fire created a wisp of smoke that trailed from the chimney, letting anyone who might happen to drive by know that someone was staying there. Sure, it was a long shot, but if that person knew the Marshalls and decided to stop by or call Mariella to ask how long she’d be in town? That would be very bad. She not only didn’t make a habit of lighting the wood-burning fireplaces, she’d been careful to use as few lights as possible. “Um. Sure. It’s very nice.”

“I thought so.” He plopped down on one of two sprawling sectional couches, each covered in plush tapestry fabric in shades of taupe and rust. He pulled out his phone. “Come. Sit. We’ll call the doctor.” He patted the sofa cushion right next to him.

This was officially the strangest situation Joy had ever been in, but she’d be lying if she’d said she didn’t want to sit close to him without a car’s center console between them. “Okay.” She carefully took the seat next to him. It was impossible not to fixate on his warm and masculine smell, or just how big his hands were as he cradled the phone.

The screen came to life, showing a tiny picture of the two of them in the bottom corner. She couldn’t help but notice that they looked cute together, even when he was dressed nicely in a black sweater and jeans while she was in her PJs. “A video call?”

“Well, yeah. He’s probably going to want to see you. I figured this is easier.”

Another face popped onto the screen, a face so familiar that Joy had to blink several times to be certain she was seeing who she was seeing. Holy crap. This was no regular doctor. This was Dr. David, the doctor who made a living on the TV talk show circuit. He was the guy every network called when there was a big health scare and people needed someone impossibly good-looking to talk them off the ledge. “Alex? Are you seriously calling me from Vail? Shouldn’t you be hitting the slopes?” Dr. David asked.

Oh, great. Alex isn’t just a guy with a super expensive car and a house in Switzerland. He’s on a first-name basis with celebrities. What world am I living in, anyway?

Alex laughed. “I’ve been doing some of that, but I was calling because I have a friend who might have hit her head. I was hoping you could talk to her.”

He tilted the phone in Joy’s direction, and she had no choice but to wave and say, “Hi. I’m the friend. I’m Joy.”

“Hello, Joy. I’m Dr. David.”

Well, duh. Another wave of embarrassment hit her. She was sure his first question was going to be why her cheeks were flaming red. “Hi, Dr. David.” She did her best to pass it off as if she chatted with ridiculously famous people every day.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said.

Joy glanced over at Alex. He looked so uncertain and worried, it made it hard to know what to say. He was concerned about her. That was why he’d come back. This revelation was sweet, but dangerous. Joy needed to be invisible right now, not attracting attention.

* * *

Alex listened as Joy told the story of the near-accident. With every word out of her mouth, he felt exponentially guiltier. She’d really, truly been in harm’s way and it had all been his fault. He quite literally could have killed her. He could have ended the life of this beautiful woman. The weight of that sat squarely on his shoulders. Call it his biggest fear, but ever since he’d been a kid, he’d worried about making a choice that would lead to an irreversible mistake. If he hadn’t decided to go for a drive, Joy wouldn’t have ended up in the snowbank.

As reluctant as she’d seemed to accept help, he would have to insist on whatever Dr. David’s orders were. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Dr. David was nodding and writing down some notes. “Okay, well, it sounds to me like you’re going to be okay. It doesn’t sound like you’ve sustained any kind of serious injury.”

Joy sighed and her shoulders dropped in relief. “Oh, good. Thank you.”

“That being said, you should not be alone over the next 24 hours. If something crops up, you’ll need help to get to the nearest medical center.”

Now Joy didn’t seem quite so happy. “I’m staying by myself right now, but it’s not a big deal. You said it yourself. It sounds like I haven’t sustained any real injury.”

“But I can’t be certain of that without examining you myself. I think it’s best if Alex stays with you if his schedule allows.”

The ramifications of that sank in quickly, but Alex knew David was right. She shouldn’t be alone. Just to be on the safe side. He would never forgive himself if something bad happened to her. “I’m on vacation, so I have nowhere else I need to be. I’m happy to do it.”

“We’re supposed to get a lot of snow tonight,” Joy pled. “You could get stuck here.”

Again, this was not the sort of reaction Alex was used to. Most women did everything they could to spend time with him. It wasn’t a boastful bit of information; it was merely the truth. “That’s quite literally the last thing I’m worried about right now.”

“I’m sure you two can work it out,” David said. “Call me at this time tomorrow and let me know how the patient is doing. And Alex, if you need anything in the middle of the night, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll have my phone right by the bed.”

“Thanks so much. You’re a real lifesaver,” Alex replied. “We’ll call you tomorrow.” With that, he ended the call.

Joy sat back on the couch and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m fine. Really, I am.”

“I know. I know. I still think we have to play it safe.”

She twisted her lips and tucked her leg under herself.

“We could play cards. Or watch TV. Or talk. You must get lonely living in this big house by yourself.” It occurred to him then that he’d assumed that since she was alone, she’d always be alone. “Oh, wait. Do you have someone coming to stay with you? For the holidays? A boyfriend? A husband?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Is that your way of asking if I’m taken?”

He wasn’t convinced it had been a bad approach. He shrugged and kicked off his shoes. Might as well make himself comfortable. “Well? Are you?”

“No. I’m not. I’m too focused on my career for a man right now anyway.”

Judging by the generosity of the friends who were letting her stay in their house, Joy must have a pretty big and successful career. “What do you do? No. Wait. Let me guess.” He studied her face, trying to keep his eyes from drifting to her other pleasing features like the graceful slope of her neck, her long legs. She was definitely serious. Focused. But she also had this girl-next-door vibe that was not only super sexy, it wasn’t entirely congruous with being a bigwig. “Entrepreneur. You started some company that went through the roof. Organic cosmetics or maybe yoga wear?”

She shook her head. “You couldn’t be more off base if you tried.”

“Well, you’re definitely a huge success, whatever it is that you do. That’s pretty obvious.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a huge success, but I get by.”

She was modest. He liked that. Most people in his circles were eager to rattle off their pedigree and accomplishments, whether they’d worked hard for them or not. Joy was a lovely change of pace. “Oh, come on. You’re spending time in this huge house all by yourself. You obviously have some very successful friends, and in my experience, successful people attract other successful people. Plus, you just have that air about you.”

She narrowed her skeptical eyes. “That air?”

Alex let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t doing particularly well for himself. Nothing he said seemed to be clicking. “You seem very comfortable here in a home like this, that’s all. That’s a sign of someone who’s had some success.”

Joy pulled her leg up and set her foot on the edge of the couch. Her toes were painted a deep red that made his pulse race. She was certainly a beguiling creature. She rested her chin on her knee and cast a thoughtful look at him. “What about you? What does Alex Townsend do?”

Part of him wanted to ignore her reply and circle back to her. She hadn’t really answered his question. She might have an even greater sense of humility than he’d realized. Or perhaps there was stress and strain involved with her occupation, and now that it was the holidays, she simply wanted a break, a concept with which he was intimately familiar. After all, she was staying in this big house all by herself at Christmas. If anything said, “I need to be alone,” it was that. “I work in finance. Investments. It’s my family’s business, but I’m running it right now. It’s not the most thrilling career, but it’s what my family has always done.”

“Are you close with your family?”

“I’m very close with my brothers. We all work together. My dad retired last year and put me in charge, but he’s not doing a very good job of being a retired person.”

“Has to keep his nose in everything?”

It was a constant point of friction, the most difficult part of Alex’s day. As the oldest Townsend son, he’d always been heir apparent to Townsend & Associates Investments. He’d looked forward to the day when his father would finally step aside and let Alex take the reins. Unfortunately, his dad second-guessed him constantly, especially now that Alex was putting his own stamp on the company and changing things, making their operation more modern and more equitable among the employees. “Yeah. You could say that. I keep hoping it’ll get better. It’s only been a little more than a year since I took over.”

“Sometimes parents can be overbearing. Mine were not happy when I decided to go to culinary school.”

“So you’re a chef? I wasn’t that off base.”

“You’re were pretty off base.” She nodded. “At the moment, my focus is baking.”

“Hold on a second. You’re Joy Baker, the baker?” He couldn’t hold back his grin. There was something extremely adorable about this revelation.

“Yes, although I’m not sure why that is so funny. I’m classically trained. Cooking is my passion. My grandmother instilled that in me.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make light of it.”

“Well, it’s important to me.”

Alex was again having a hard time not smiling. He loved her fire, and how nice it must be to have a family connection to a career that didn’t involve money and was rather related to something homey or creative. “So if it’s so important, why didn’t you parents approve?” She averted her eyes, and Alex fought his first inclination, which was to think that a woman was hiding something when she looked away. It had become a habit, one he was desperate to be rid of. He wanted to trust. He truly did.

“They thought I’d never make enough money, which isn’t exactly wrong. It isn’t always a high-paying line of work. But I’m not in it for the money. I’m in it because I love doing it.”

Joy was a breath of fresh air. He had to admire her bravery. She’d gone against her parents’ wishes to pursue her passion, and she’d clearly done very well for herself. He wished he felt so strongly about something. “I think that’s fantastic. It’s very impressive.”

“You know, you didn’t say anything about your mom. What does she do?”

It felt as though the air around him had gone flat, which was too bad considering how sparkling their conversation had just been. “She passed away when I was in college.” Even years later, the guilt over not being there when his mother died was immense. She’d suffered greatly and Alex had been hundreds of miles away in New York.

“I’m so sorry.”

The pity in Joy’s voice was a mixed blessing. It was genuine, and he appreciated that more than anything. So much in his life no longer felt real, not since Sharon had betrayed his love with lies. But he also didn’t want Joy to feel sorry for him. He wanted her to see him as strong and capable, not weak or vulnerable. “Tell me more about your parents. What do they do?”

Joy closed her eyes for a moment. “You know, maybe this is a conversation best left for another time. I’m feeling pretty tired. I should probably head up to bed.”

Was that deflection? Or was she truly tired? Alex couldn’t arrive at a conclusion. Stop with the paranoia. She’d been through a lot tonight, all of it set in motion when he’d lost control of his car. “I hope you don’t have a headache.”

She shook her head and got up from the couch. “No. I feel fine. Truly. I’m just tired.”

“Okay. Sure. Where do you want me to sleep tonight? I can crash on the couch if that’s best.”

“Don’t be silly. There are a bunch of bedrooms upstairs. You can stay in the first one on the left in the hall upstairs. I’m two doors down from that.”

She’d been sure to leave some space between them, which Alex had to respect. He was a strange man staying in her house. It would set any woman on edge. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I’m also wondering if it would be all right for me to move my car into the garage. No telling how much snow we’ll get tonight.”

“Oh. Of course. The door is to the left after you walk through the entry. I believe one of the bays is empty.”

“Thank you so much. Good night.”

“Sleep well.” With that, Joy left him to his own devices.

Alex found the garage with little trouble and opened the door. The wind had picked up considerably, and the snow was already drifting in the driveway. There were three or four inches on the ground, and although his Bugatti had a lot of firepower, it wasn’t a huge fan of the snow. It took a bit of convincing to get it into the garage. He grabbed his gym bag from the back seat. At least he’d have clean underwear and some toiletries.

He shook off the cold when he got back inside. He wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten himself into a more bizarre situation. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it, however perilously close the incident with the car had come to hurting her. At least he had a temporary interruption to his very dull and lonely Christmas vacation.

Still, there was something about Joy that wasn’t quite right, and that worried him. However much he hated walking around with his defenses up, he couldn’t be the guy who could be fooled more than once. In his position, with a vast personal fortune and a professional reputation to maintain, he had to be leery of everyone. The one time he hadn’t been careful, it had nearly destroyed him. If the unthinkable had happened and he’d married Sharon, his former fiancée, the woman who duped him into thinking not only that she loved him, but that they didn’t need a prenuptial agreement, his face would’ve eventually been splashed all over the cover of tabloid magazines. Half of his money would’ve been gone.

Alex trailed through the foyer and back into the living room, dialing the number for Paul, the Townsend & Associates Investments staff investigator. His primary duties for the firm involved due diligence on potential mergers and acquisitions, but he was especially good at digging up skeletons. He’d been at the company for a long time, since Alex was a teenager. Alex’s entire family trusted Paul implicitly. In some ways, Paul was like a dad figure to Alex. Alex could speak openly with him and have a real discussion without it turning into a referendum on Alex’s style of leadership.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” Paul asked when he answered.

Alex walked to the far side of the room. He didn’t want Joy to overhear him. “I am on vacation. And I’m enjoying myself. But I want you to check into something for me.”

“Something or someone?”

Paul was a smart man. No question about that. “Someone. A woman.”

“Oh, boy,” Paul said. “I hope you aren’t putting yourself into a delicate situation again.”

Alex closed his eyes and blew out a breath through his nose. Paul had every right to be wary. He’d suspected something about Sharon from the moment he’d met her. He’d kept it to himself for quite a while, but when it got close to the wedding day, Paul had taken the initiative and started digging. What he found was a trail of lies. Alex had let his heart cloud the issue when it had come to Sharon, and he’d come close to paying for it dearly.

“It’s not exactly a neat and tidy situation. I met a woman tonight, but only because I hit a patch of ice and nearly ran into her with my car. I’m at her house right now. I just want to make sure there aren’t any surprises I should know about. She’s lovely. I’d like to ask her out, maybe take her to dinner. But there’s also something about her that seems off. I’m not quite sure what it is.”

A few moments of silence played out on Paul’s end of the line, and Alex knew he was thinking, hard. “Off in what way? I don’t want you to be unduly paranoid because of Sharon. The vast majority of people are mostly honest.”

“Mostly?”

“We all tell little lies. The question is how little.”

Indeed. “Do you think you should look into it?”

“It can’t hurt. What’s her name?”

“It’s Joy Baker. She’s from Santa Barbara.”

“California, I take it.”

“That’s what I assumed.”

“Can you tell me anything about her family? Does she own any businesses?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about her family other than she’s not related to the Bakers in Denver. And oddly enough, Joy Baker is a baker.”

Once again, Paul was dead quiet on the other end of the line. “Okay. Got it. I’ll look into her and give you a call tomorrow.”


Three (#u589c9765-0c71-529a-8e79-eeb1b1f3b65f)

Joy climbed into the bed she’d been fantasizing about during her trudge up the hill. It was just as heavenly as it had been the night before, and the night before that. This bedroom was gorgeous, and it wasn’t even the master bedroom. Joy couldn’t stomach the idea of taking Mariella and Harrison Marshall’s room. She was already pushing things far enough.

She’d instead chosen their daughter Elana’s room, with its beautiful cherry wood sleigh bed and richly colored tapestry carpet in shades of gold, cream and taupe. There was a gas fireplace in the corner of the room, lit with the simple flick of a switch. The flames would probably cast a golden glow and warm the entire room, but Joy was too nervous to turn it on. Windows spanned one wall overlooking the back of the property, which had a stunning view of the seemingly never-ending mountain vista. Being in this bed felt like being on top of the world.

The snow was still coming down. Joy picked up her phone and pulled up the weather app. They were predicting an unusually heavy snowfall overnight. It took a lot of snow to shut things down in this part of Colorado, but the reality was that the Marshall estate was at the very top of the mountain. Even if life was normal down in town, it would take a while for plows to make their way up here. Rafe had told her as much when he’d given her the keys to the house.

Bad weather or not, there was no way she’d be able to get to work tomorrow. Not with Alex and his 24-hour timeline, courtesy of Dr. David. She still couldn’t believe she’d practically met a celebrity while she was wearing her pajamas. The Marshalls had lots of famous friends, some just as well-known as Dr. David, but she’d certainly never had a conversation with any of them.

She dialed the number for her boss at the bakery. “Hey there,” Bonnie answered. “I take it you’re calling to chat about this lovely bout we’re having with Mother Nature?”

Joy smiled and sat back against the pillows. “In part, yes. But even if the weather cooperates, I don’t think I can come in tomorrow. I had a small accident when I came home and the doctor wants me to rest for 24 hours. I’m sorry if that leaves you in the lurch. I think you know how much I hate to miss work. I love working at the bakery.” And I don’t want to jeopardize my job.

“I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“The doctor doesn’t think so, but he’s not entirely sure I didn’t hit my head. That’s why he wants me to lay low.”

“What in the world happened?”

Oh, nothing. Just a super handsome man flew down a mountain and almost killed me. “I slipped and fell. Stupid snow.”

Bonnie clucked her tongue as if she was scolding Joy. “Ouch. Well, I wouldn’t worry about work tomorrow anyway. I’m not sure we’ll be able to open on time, and even then, I’m not sure we’ll have any customers. This storm is supposed to be pretty bad. I think it’s best you stay inside and recuperate. We’ll see you on Thursday if all is back to normal.”

Joy breathed a huge sigh of relief. Bonnie was a wonderful boss. After Mariella Marshall, this was one life change Joy was glad for. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I’ll be in touch. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Joy hung up and settled back in bed, her mind zeroing in on her other problem—Alex. It would’ve been so nice to stay up and chat with him, but he asked too many questions. It took a lot of effort to think about the ramifications of every answer she gave, and she knew it made her come off as someone who was hiding something. She didn’t want to be that person. She was horrible at being that person, but such was the situation she’d gotten herself into.

Part of her wished she never would’ve given him a fake last name. It set a bad precedent, and she’d done a ridiculously bad job with it, to boot. Baker? Seriously? It was the first thing that had come to mind, a perfect illustration of how ill-equipped she was to go around the world being anyone other than herself. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it—she would only know Alex for a short time. Twenty-four hours. He’d never have to know she’d fibbed a few times. It certainly wasn’t hurting anyone.

Despite her inability to lie for hours at a time, she would’ve liked to have talked to Alex more and at least find out about him. She was a naturally curious person, and he’d been almost as dismissive of her questions as she’d been of his. He hadn’t made a big deal of his occupation, but if his car was any indication, he had to be an important guy... She didn’t like the idea of snooping, but maybe one internet search wasn’t too nosy. He was sleeping in the same house as her, after all.

She pulled up the web browser on her phone and typed in Alexander Townsend, Chicago, Illinois. As the results came back, it quickly dawned on Joy that she was in over her head. He wasn’t merely Alexander Townsend. He was Alexander Townsend III. Joy had never been acquainted with someone with roman numerals after their name. Ever. Judging by the bio and photos that came up, her hunch about Alex being somebody had been absolutely correct.

The Townsends were one of the wealthiest families in Chicago and had resided there for decades. They were old money personified—houses all over the world, expensive vacations, lots of heavy political ties and famous friends. As she scrolled through the stories about Alex though, she learned that he was generating his own new money. He was responsible for taking Townsend & Associates Investments to a whole new level of success. According to several business publications, he was doing so with aplomb. Good for him.

Joy clicked on Images and she was glad no one was watching her while she did this. She got all tingly and hot-faced just from seeing pictures of him. She needed to have her head examined—it wasn’t as if she hadn’t just had the chance to look at him as much as she liked. Most of the photographs were from big social events and fund-raisers, the theater, fancy dinners. He was in a suit in many of them, a tux in a few, always dashing and impeccably dressed. With every suit came a stunning woman on his arm. After a while, it became her mission to find a picture of him without a woman, but all she could find was his corporate head shot and a few of him leaving or arriving at his office.

Alex’s parade of women was ready for the covers of magazines. They were ripe for the society pages or the red carpet—gorgeous hair and makeup, flawless designer gowns, long legs and perfect skin. None of these women, Joy was quite certain, was a baker from Ohio. She might have enjoyed her conversation with Alex, she might have liked riding in his car, she’d had a few minutes of fun with the fantasy of kissing him, but between these photos and her phone call with Dr. David, Joy knew one thing for certain—Alexander Townsend III was 100 percent out of her league.

They weren’t even playing the same game.

Her number one job tomorrow, after assessing the road conditions and passing the 24-hour mark, was getting Alex out of this house. Joy knew rich people. She’d worked for too many to not understand precisely how they operated. They stuck together. If Alex found out she didn’t really belong here, he’d call the police before she’d even have time to sputter out the long, drawn-out truth. She had to clean her mind of sexy thoughts about him and get rid of him. As to how she was supposed to sleep with this information fresh in her mind, she had no idea. She only knew that she was stuck in this room for now.

The trouble was, she couldn’t relax. She liked Alex, but letting him into the house had left her exposed. She was vulnerable, and she didn’t like it. Living on the brink did that to a person. If you spent enough days worrying about money or food or shelter, you eventually became territorial. You’d cling to every good thing you could find. She knew this house wasn’t hers, and it certainly wasn’t home, but it was all she had right now.

Her car was a piece of junk and a money pit. It had left her with eleven dollars in the bank. She had a job, but she wasn’t sure she could afford to stay in Vail. And to make things especially heartbreaking, it was Christmas.

Embarrassment over quitting her job with the Marshalls was part of the reason she couldn’t go home for the holidays. She couldn’t admit to her parents that she’d not only failed, but her failure had been an implosion of her own making. They’d had enough reservations over her culinary career. She didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. Her mother had always voiced the loudest concerns. She’d seen her own mother struggle to make ends meet, and she didn’t want that life for her daughter. Joy understood, completely, but it didn’t change the fact that her grandmother had lit a fire in her that would never go out. Everything about cooking appealed to Joy—the creativity, the connection to family, the sights and smells, the ability to bring pleasure to someone’s life. There was absolutely nothing better than having someone eat your food and express their approval.

The other reason for not going home loomed like a dark cloud—her ex, Ben. Her parents had protested Joy’s decision to attend culinary school, but Ben had flown into a rage. He’d never liked any sign of Joy improving her lot in life. He liked her best when she was down, when she was at a disadvantage. Of course, she’d enrolled anyway, because she couldn’t bear the thought of not cooking, and she wanted to do it well.

She’d worked hard in the school kitchens and studied on nights and on the weekends. She’d been determined to prove to everyone that she could not only be extraordinary at cooking, she could make a life for herself—a big life without worries about money. An important life where people knew her name and regarded her work with high esteem. But as every day went by, and Joy became more immersed in her studies, it became clearer that Ben would not be a part of her life moving forward. He was too controlling. He didn’t want what was best for her. Her parents saw it. Her friends saw it. Joy saw it, too, but it had taken a lot of nerve to sever that cord.

His response had been exactly what she’d expected—first rage, putting his fist through a wall. Then he begged her to change her mind, kneeling before her and clutching her hands. She’d cried her eyes out, wishing she could help him but knowing she couldn’t. Then, finally, the anger came again, but it was different the second time, hate filled and spiteful. He’d called her trash. He’d said no one would ever love her. He’d said he would never leave her alone.

A judge had granted a restraining order eventually, but it did little good. Ben still drove by the house all the time. Joy would take pictures. She would call the police. Her dad would go out on the front stoop and yell. But in the end, Ben would only ever get a slap on the wrist. Ben had too many buddies in the police department. As soon as she was done with culinary school, she got out of Ohio. She went straight to Los Angeles and took her first job. She didn’t look back. She knew Ben wouldn’t follow her outside of his little bubble, but that didn’t mean he was gone for good. Every holiday, he’d start stalking her parents’ house. Hence, another Christmas alone. Someday she’d be able to afford to fly her parents to see her, but that day wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Still unable to sleep, Joy got up to go to the bathroom. When she stepped back into her bedroom, there was a knock at the door.

“Joy? Are you okay in there?”

What the hell? Was he out in the hallway listening? Joy did not like overprotective guys. She could take care of herself. “Yeah. I’m fine. Getting a drink of water.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I was just on my way to bed. Good night.”

“Good night.” Joy headed back to her own bed, knowing what she had to do, even though she dreaded it. Tomorrow, she would thank sweet, handsome Alex Townsend. She’d probably employ her talents and make him a nice breakfast. He had been exceedingly kind to spend the night with her, all because he was worried about her head injury. Then, as soon as the twenty-four hours were up, sexy or not, Alex Townsend needed to go.

She didn’t want some guy watching her every move when she was living in a house that wasn’t hers, no matter how much he might be Joy’s idea of Prince Charming.

* * *

Alex woke to the rich, heavenly smell of coffee and sat up straight in bed. He could muster great enthusiasm for his morning hit of caffeine, and knowing that Joy was downstairs making it only added to the appeal. If they were snowed in, he hoped she’d lose that skittish edge. He hoped Paul wasn’t going to call him and tell him he needed to hightail it out of there.

Alex climbed out of bed. Outside, there was much more than a blanket of snow on the ground. It looked as though there’d been an avalanche overnight, leaving behind endless billowing drifts. Alex pulled on the basketball shorts he had in his gym bag.

A few steps into the living room, and he caught a glimpse of Joy in the adjoining open-plan kitchen. His feet felt like they were in cement. He wasn’t entirely sure he was, in fact, breathing. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder top that showed off the graceful stretch of her neck and just enough skin to paint a white-hot picture in his head, one that might require visual confirmation at some point. Her glossy brown hair was gathered to one side in a loose and sexy ponytail. She was pulling out a mixing bowl and some other items from the kitchen drawers, doing the most benign of tasks, and yet he couldn’t have found her more enchanting if he tried.

“Too bad you don’t have a housekeeper here to do that,” he quipped, forcing himself to walk with a normal gait.

Joy shook her head and continued working. “I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself. No housekeeper needed.”

He liked how independent she was. “I can see that.”

“Coffee’s on.”

“I could smell it all the way upstairs. It’s the only thing that could get me out of bed.” That, and the idea that you might be downstairs. “That mattress is quite comfortable.” He watched as Joy stood on tiptoes in fluffy pink slippers, plucking a coffee mug from the cabinet. She smiled when she handed it to him, but there was something about her this morning, again—that edge that left him feeling unsettled. He decided to shake it off and filled his mug from the carafe. He took a sip. It was strong and full-bodied, just how he liked it. “Delicious.”

“No cream or sugar?”

He leaned back against the counter. “No way. I avoid that stuff at all costs. I’ve grown to like black coffee.”

Joy visibly shuddered. She scrunched up her adorable nose. “Yuck.”

“I’m guessing you don’t take your coffee that way.”




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