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happened. “I lost my poles. I found this one, but I'm still looking for the other one. Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be—the lifts been shut off. Can ski anytime you want?"
    "No. I'm here to find you.” Lucas cupped her face.
    Cara looked away when her nose begun to sting. For the love of her, she couldn't understand why his words made her want to cry. “I'm not lost."
    "But you lost your pole and your hair is wet, which tells me you were covered with snow. Meaning you lost control and went down."
    "So? I manage to stand up again."
    "You could have hurt yourself, babe."
    "I'm okay, so you can go now. I need to find my pole.” Cara walked around him, but Lucas grabbed her hand.
    "I'm not leaving you here. Forget about the pole. You need to go home and rest. You've been skiing all day."
    "No. I'm not leaving here without my pole.” Her voice rose to a high pitch. She was acting like a child. She knew it, but she could care less.
    "Cara, what the hell is wrong with you? You've been—"
    "I want my damn pole! What is so hard to understand about that? If you don't want to help me find it, then leave."
    "Cara you don't have to yell."
    "I am not yelling. Just talking a bit louder, but not yelling."
    "You're mad at me."
    "What made you think that?” Cara snapped. She would have stomped her feet, too, if they weren't stuck in the snow.
    "Since I arrived here, you've been looking at me as if I just killed your cat. And you look ready to sock my gut."
    "I would never hurt you.” Her reply came out too quick for her taste.
    The wind blew, reminding Cara of her wet hair and exposed hand. She blew on her fingers but failed to warm them up.
    "Where's your glove?"
    "Don't know. I took it off to fix my hair."
    "Here. Wear this.” Lucas pulled his glove off and offered it to her.
    Cara looked at it. She wanted it, but she didn't want his pity. “No, thanks. I'll just find—"
    "Take the god damn glove. Want me to put it on you?"
    "No. Such a crab.” She took the glove and shoved her hand inside. It was warm and big, and lordy, it felt good.
    The sound of the snowmobile took her mind off the towering man in front of her. Cara was glad. She needed to control her emotions. Being alone with Lucas again after two long months weakened her armor. Her anger suddenly turned into wanting to wrap her arms around him, feel his body against hers. But with other people around, it would give her time to compose and raise her armor up again.
    One ski mobile with tracks at the rear and steered by skis at the front and two red snowmobiles with a white cross on the gas tank side pulled up. Ah, the emergency guys patrolling the area looking for knuckleheads like her, she thought. Cara recognized the usher. He was looking at her with obvious signs of worry on his face.
    "Sir, is she okay? Do we need to make an emergency call?” The man wearing a red jacket with white cross on the chest asked. A voice on his radio came on. The man pulled it and talked on the speaker. “She's found and seems to be okay, over."
    "Are you hurt anywhere, Cara?"
    "Did you call 911 on me?"
    "Are you hurt?” Lucas repeated.
    "No. I'm fine. Why did you have to call them?"
    Lucas ignored her and turned his attention to one of the medics. “Give her a ride."
    "Yes, sir. Ma'am, are you ready?"
    Cara glared at Lucas, ignoring the medic. “This is not necessary you know."
    "Don't make me carry you in front of them. I doubt you'll appreciate it."
    "Bully.” She crinkled her nose and took a step toward the snowmobile. Shooting pain from her low back prevented her from taking another. Cara grimaced, but corrected herself with a winsome smile that the medic returned. “Give me a minute."
    "God damn it, Cara! You're hurt! Baby, please. It's okay if you tell me."
    She didn't. She was being obtuse, but why tell him about her ankle and low back? What was he going to do? Shaking her head, she walked toward the snowmobile. “I want my pole, Lucas."
    "Don't worry, I won't