Another snowball whizzed by his left ear as he sprinted toward her. Realizing he was retaliating, Addison yelped and sprinted in the opposite direction. But she was no match for him. He caught up with her in a few yards. She spun at the last minute, threw up her hands, and shouted something ridiculous about her bruised shoulder.
Ignoring her protests, Randall threw caution aside and wrapped his arms around her. Their legs tangled. He spun in midair, then brought her down on top of him in an almost gentle tackle. She fell against him, uttering a very unladylike curse. Her laughter rose over the wind, filling the air around them with the sound of simple human joy. Her hair cascaded onto his face, tickling his nose and momentarily blinding him. She stared down at him and giggled.
"Didn't anybody ever tell you throwing snowballs is dangerous business?" he growled.
"You're just jealous because you got your butt kicked."
He was keenly aware of her body against his. His response was instinctive, spontaneous, and swift. Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her down to him and crushed her mouth to his.
Pleasure crashed through him at the initial taste of her. Soft. Sweet. Forbidden. Her scent surrounded him like a dizzying fog. Stark need pierced him, consuming him, blocking out the wind and the snow so that the only thing he was aware of was the woman he held in his arms.
She stiffened slightly, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. She was everything he'd imagined, only better. She smelled like heaven and tasted like a dream. Deepening the kiss, he parted her lips and explored with his tongue in an erotic dance that made his blood boil. Her hesitation stirred him. The sweetness of her kiss devastated him. He drank it in until his body was aching for more.
As quickly as the insanity descended, it lifted. Addison broke the kiss with a clever turn of her head. Disappointment speared through him. He blinked, stunned by the power of the sensations coursing through him.
Abruptly, she drew back so that she was sitting on top of him, and stared down at him as if suddenly realizing what had happened. "Pretty silly of us to be rolling around on the ground with a dangerous snowstorm moving in," she said breathlessly.
"That'll teach you to throw snowballs."
"Maybe you should duck next time." She tried to rise, but Randall stopped her.
"Is there going to be a next time?"
Her gaze skittered away, and he released her. Slowly, she got to her feet. "I don't know," she said. "You keep surprising me."
From her guarded expression, he couldn't tell where he stood with her. Christ, he wasn't even sure why he'd let that happen. All he did know was that in thirty-eight years, no other woman had ever moved him the way Addison did. The kiss had reached into him and touched something vital deep inside him. Something he'd thought was long dead. Something he wasn't sure he wanted resurrected.
Struggling to his feet, Randall brushed the snow from his parka, keenly aware that he was fully aroused. His pulse pounded, and he tasted frustration at the back of his throat. Out of the comer of his eye, he watched Addison shake the snow from her coat.
"I'm not sure why I let you kiss me," she said.
"I didn't exactly ask for permission."
Her cheeks were flushed with color when she looked at him. Her damp hair fell in wisps around her face. He'd never seen a woman look so beautiful—or seem so far out of reach.
"Maybe a snowball fight wasn't such a good idea," she said when they reached the truck.
"Fun, though."
"I don't want it to ... change anything."
"We've got a more pressing issue to deal with." He nearly smiled when her eyes widened. Damn, she was refreshing. ''The weather," he clarified.
"Oh. Right."
Snow covered the windshield. Randall felt a quiver of alarm go through him as he opened the driver's-side door and ushered her inside. "If the wind picks up, we may not have visibility at all in another hour."
Casting him a startled look over her shoulder, she slid across the seat to the passenger side. "We've got to get back to Denver."
"Unless you've got a set of tire chains in your purse, we may not make it."
"Very funny."
He started the engine. "That wasn't a joke."
''This is a four-wheel-drive, right? We'll take it slow—"
"There are a couple of motels off the interstate," he said.
She shot him a look that made him smile despite the circumstances. "Like we're going to find a vacancy this close to Christmas."
"You got a better idea?"
"I'm thinking."
"While you're thinking, we're getting snowed in."
"We're not getting snowed in. I can't get snowed in. Van-Dyne told me not to leave town."
He raised his hands in defense. "You're the one who insisted on coming down the side of the mountain like an extreme rock climber."
"You were shutting me out."
"I was using my common sense, which is more than I can say for you." He grimaced at the snow. "We'll have to find a motel. There are some truckers' motels—"
"Listen, Talbot, I don't know what kind of a testosterone-induced scheme you've concocted in that so-called mind of yours, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit up here on this mountain with you for the rest of the night."