Nobody's Business (Nobody Romances) by Gina Ardito

snowboarding world
after that one amazing aerial flip.

    "So," Brooklyn said, "you're like his agent or something?"
    He hesitated. "I'm ... more like ... promotion." Oh, he was
skating on very thin ice right now.
    Understanding widened her eyes. Since she was a former ski
champion, she must have recalled her own glory days and the
entourage of legal, promotional, and athletic personnel swamping her every move. Easy enough, based on the information
he'd provided, for her to assume he was just another face in a
sports superstar's crowd.
    "Of course," she replied with a wry smile. "I would imagine protecting Ace's image is a twenty-four/seven job."
    "There've definitely been some scary moments in the past."
Not much of a lie there. Ace was still a kid, dealing with the
type of fame that sent more highly experienced adults spiraling
into self-destruction. "But since my accident, I've been pretty
much unemployed."
    "Ace fired you?" Her eyes narrowed in outrage.
    He bit back a smile. Well, well. The Coyote really did have a
heart. Who knew? "No. Ace didn't fire me. Technically, I don't
work for him."
    "So your company fired you? That's just as bad."
    "No. No one fired me. I just haven't been able to do my job
since I left the hospital."
    "Why on earth not?" Outrage transformed to confusion.
    "You really need to ask?"
    "Of course."
    "Yoo-hoo." He flapped his empty sleeve with the intensity of
a hawk swooping in on a disabled mouse. Thwap, thwap, thwap.
"Does this little tragedy ring a bell for you?"
    "Tragedy? Is that how you see your injury?"
    "Don't." He held up his left hand, the ski pole punctuating the
frosty air like an exclamation point. "Don't try to force-feed
me any platitudes about challenges and life not giving me more than I can handle. I've heard them all, and I'm not buying any
of them."

    "Okay, so wait. Let me get this straight. You think because
you're missing an arm you can't work anymore?"
    "Yeah, I did."
    Her narrowed eyes glinted steel in the surrounding twilight.
"Can't? Or won't work anymore?"
    "Can't or won't. Doesn't matter."
    "Wanna bet?"
    On second thought, the Coyote must have had some barracuda DNA in her genetic makeup. "I said I did feel that way."
And for the first time since he'd sat beside her on this lift, he
gave her the full truth. "Until I met you."
    She actually blushed, and offered a thousand-watt smile that
made him feel sixteen again.
    More time. He needed more time with this snow siren who
both infuriated and charmed him. Oh sure, mainly for his article but also because-oh my God, she was Brooklyn Raine.
    The love-struck teen he'd once been couldn't quite abandon
his awe in his idol's presence. How many people got this kind
of opportunity? Not many, he'd bet.
    Now or never.
    Doug seized his moment. "Would you have dinner with me
tonight?"
    His question hung between them unanswered. Not that Lyn
hadn't heard him. In fact, she'd heard him all too clearly. At
least, until the words pressed a blaring panic button inside her
head.
    Omigod, omigod, omigod. How on earth should she answer?
    In a frantic attempt to find an escape, she noticed the sign
mounted on the tower as they passed. PREPARE TO UNLOAD.
RAISE BAR.
    Thank God.
    Feigning nonchalance, she gestured with a nod in that direction. "Put your goggles back into place, and take your skis
off the footrest," she directed. "We're about to hit the ramp."
    "You didn't answer my question."

    He noticed. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, hurtling her heart into freefall. Her gloved hand tightened on the
restraint bar as she looked away from his intense stare. "I-I
can't."
    "Can't or won't?" The teasing lilt returned to his tone.
    Can't, won't. What was the difference? The mere idea of sitting across from this man over an intimate meal, where he could
study her more intently, slipped an itchy sweater over her skin.
She pushed the bar up and out of the way, then sidled to the edge
of her seatmore from