Holiday on Ice (A Play-by-Play Novel)

But then he caught sight of Katrina coming through the bar. She was by herself, carrying a tote bag. She stopped to talk to the bartender, who nodded. Then she walked past Grant without saying a word, and pulled up a chair at a table by herself.

Not with the other models, who seemingly ignored her as much as she was ignoring them.

She pulled out a book and a pair of glasses, and one of the waitresses brought her a tall glass of what looked like iced tea with lemon. She opened the book and started to read, oblivious to everything—and everyone—around her.

Huh. Not at all what he’d expected.

He watched her for a while, waiting to see if she was meeting someone. After about thirty minutes, he realized no one was going to show up. He stood, grabbed his beer and went over to her table and pulled out a chair to take a seat.

She lifted her gaze from her book and settled it on him. She didn’t offer a smile.

“Did you get lost on your way to some other table?” she asked.

“No. But you were alone.”

“Precisely. On purpose.”

She waited, as if she expected him to leave. He didn’t take a brush-off all that easily. “I thought you might want some company.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Does that icy cold stare work on all men?”

“Usually.”

“Why aren’t you with your friends over there?”

She took a quick glance at the other table, then back to him. “Do you think models travel in herds?”

She had a sharp wit. He liked that about her. “What are you drinking?”

“Iced tea.”

He signaled for the waitress, then held up two fingers and motioned to their drinks. She nodded and wandered back inside.

“Really, Grant. I’m fine. And I’d like to be alone.”

“No one wants to be alone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Okay, fine. I don’t want to be alone. I figured we’d have dinner together.”

With a sigh, she set down her book and took off her glasses. “Just because we worked together today doesn’t mean we have anything in common, or that we shared a moment or anything.”

“Didn’t we?”

She paused for a few seconds, and he held her gaze in his. Damn, there was something about her eyes. He liked women just fine, and always had a good time with them. He’d had a few relationships that had lasted awhile and had ended amicably. But not one woman had ever shocked him with the same spark he’d felt with Katrina today.

He wanted to explore that, see if he could push through her icy exterior.

“I’m reading a book.”

“So you said. It’s a good one. I’ve read it before.”

She frowned. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“I saw it when I sat down.”

She crossed her arms. “Okay, fine. What’s it about?”

“There’s this guy, and he works for the CIA. But he’s a double agent, working both sides. You don’t know throughout the book if he’s a good guy or bad guy, or if the partner he hooks up with in South Korea is on his side, or out to kill him. So when they both show up on the train . . .”

She held up her hand. “Stop. I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Fine, I get it. You’ve read it.”

“You thought I was bullshitting you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

The waitress brought their drinks. “Thanks,” Grant said. “Can we see some menus?”

“I don’t want to see a menu,” she said to the waitress, who walked away anyway. She turned her attention back on Grant. “I don’t want you to sit here with me. Honestly, are you always this rude?”

“Not always. You bring out the best in me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“So tell me why that book.”

“I like suspense and crime fiction.”

“You don’t strike me as the type.”

Her brows lifted. “Type? Why? Did you expect I’d be thumbing through a fashion magazine? Or even better, that I didn’t even know how to read? Do you expect all models to be dumb?”

“That would be stereotyping, and I’d be the last person to do that. And no. You looked like the type to read books on . . . I don’t know. Psychology or something.”

She laughed. “Why?”

He picked up her dark glasses. “You look so smart wearing these.”

“I am smart. With or without the glasses.”

He could tell he was digging the hole even deeper with every word he said. “Sorry. I’m not getting this out right. I’ve dated a few models.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He sighed. “A lot of them have different interests. One was a certified scuba diver, so I learned to dive when I was dating her. One was a hiker and a climber. I did some heinous climbs with her.”

“You dated Elesia?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She wrinkled her nose. “She’s a pit viper.”

He laughed. “I’m not even going to comment.”

“You have interesting taste in women.”

“I like women who intrigue me and challenge me. Not just a pretty face.”

“Good to know the modeling world isn’t growing old and moldy with no men to date as long as you’re around. After all, where would we be without our sports stars to take care of us?”

“Now who’s stereotyping? I’ve also dated a schoolteacher, an accountant, a scientist, and a landscape architect.”

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