Sleigh Bell Sweethearts

Alec’s hand tightened around his coffee mug.

So Zoey Hathaway went around getting pedicures and buying airplanes...but she wasn’t a spoiled princess.

Yeah, right.

And to think for a split second, he’d thought they might actually have something in common.

“Hey, speaking of Zoey...” Brock rose from his barstool and took a few steps toward the window overlooking the frozen lake behind the hotel. The dog scrambled to its feet and followed on Brock’s heels. “Is that her?”

Alec took another swig of his coffee. He didn’t bother looking out the window. Unless she was writing him a check, what Zoey did was none of his concern. “Hmm?” he muttered, more to have something to say rather than expressing any real interest in whatever was going on outside.

“That’s her, all right.” There was a hint of worry in Brock’s tone that Alec did his best to ignore. “Is she trying to get herself killed?”

Now how was he supposed to ignore a question like that?

Alec dragged his reluctant gaze to the window. Sure enough, there was Zoey Hathaway—her blond princess hair tumbling out of her merry red hat and flying around in the wind as she tiptoed her way past a row of small airplanes, across the ice-covered lake.

Forget it. Forget her. It’s not your business. “That’s not the runway, is it?”

“I’m afraid it is,” Brock said.

“What is she doing out there?” Alec slid off his barstool for a closer look. Not that he had any intention of rescuing her. He was curious. That was all.

Brock said nothing. He simply pointed.

As Alec followed the direction of Brock’s finger, his gaze landed on a familiar antlered friend.

Palmer.

Chapter Three

Alec struggled to gain his footing on the slippery surface of the lake. He’d already slid his way to the middle of the runway, and Zoey was still a good ten feet ahead of him. She was shockingly fast. And agile.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he shouted.

She turned her head and stopped in her tracks when she spotted him. “What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.” He kept plodding toward her.

“If you must know, I’m trying to save myself a bucketful of money.” She resumed her trek across the ice.

“Could you stop for one minute? Please,” he all but growled.

Amazingly, she did.

By the time he reached her, he was struggling to catch his breath. She, on the other hand, was perfectly composed—waiting for him with her hands on her hips.

“How can I help you?” she asked, as if the situation was completely normal—as if standing in the center of an active airport runway, pausing for a moment from her pursuit of a petulant reindeer, was an everyday occurrence.

“This is crazy dangerous. You know that, right?” He glowered at her.

“You seem mad.” She frowned. “Are you mad at me? I mean, about something other than the thousand dollars?”

Alec inhaled a ragged breath. The cold Alaskan air burned his lungs, making him long for the coffee he’d abandoned in order to take up this wild-goose chase. “This doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about you.”

Her cheeks blazed almost as red as her hat.

“What I mean to say is that I’ve already had one boss die on me this week. Let’s not make it two.” He jammed a hand through his hair and noticed his fingers were already numb. In the rush to get out here and put an end to this madness, he’d forgone his hat and gloves. “I have no desire to see you splattered under the wheels of an airplane. What are you doing?”

She waved a dainty hand toward Palmer, who appeared blissfully unaware that he was in her cross hairs. “I’m removing my reindeer from the path of air traffic.”

“By throwing yourself into the middle of that traffic?” He had to shout to make himself heard over a prop plane that had just fired up its engine. Great. They were probably both about to be chopped to bits by that propeller.

Why couldn’t he have simply minded his own business? Zoey Hathaway could obviously take care of herself. He looked around at all the airplanes idling with puffs of white smoke trailing from their engines. One or two planes circled overhead, clearly ready to land. Okay, maybe not so obviously. But why did he have to be the one to make sure she didn’t get hurt?

Alec shook his head. He had no answer for that particular question.

“Would you relax?” She rolled her eyes. They looked even greener out here, surrounded by the vast field of white. Irish green, one of the park rangers at Olympic Forest used to call it. Alec was sure he could see a whole spectrum of color in that one single hue. “The tower has grounded all flights, both outgoing and incoming. I’m not going to get ‘splattered under the wheels of an airplane,’ as you so eloquently put it.”

“Really?” He lifted his brows.

“Really.” She resumed her march toward Palmer, who was now lying down in the center of the runway with his long legs folded beneath him.

Oh, boy. Alec recognized the posture and knew Palmer had no intention of moving any time soon. Within minutes, the reindeer would probably be snoring loudly enough to rival the whir of the surrounding plane engines.

“That’s good news,” Alec said and fell in step beside her.

“No, it’s not. It’s not good news at all.” She released a sigh, and a cloud of her breath danced in the air. “The FAA doesn’t take kindly to interruptions in air traffic. I could be looking at a big fine.”

Alec had a feeling he could kiss his thousand dollars goodbye, which made his presence out here all the more nonsensical. “I see.”

“Wait a minute.” Zoey came to a halt about twenty feet away from Palmer’s resting spot. Her lips quirked into a smile.

Alec’s gaze was drawn at once to her mouth. She’s even prettier when she smiles.

“That’s not my reindeer.” She clapped her hands like a kid on Christmas morning in one of those sappy made-for-TV movies Alec always tried to avoid. “I can’t believe it. That’s not my reindeer! Problem solved.”

Was she delusional? “What makes you think he’s not yours?”

“Look.” She waved a hand at Palmer. And it was most definitely Palmer. Alec would have recognized that obstinate animal anywhere. He had a white ring around one of his eyes, unlike any of the other reindeer in the herd.

“I’m looking...” He crossed his arms. “...at Palmer. Who belongs to you, I might add.”

“It can’t be Palmer. Isn’t Palmer a boy reindeer?”

Alec had a feeling he knew where this was going. She’d expected a male reindeer to have a big rack of antlers. Most people did. Then again, most people were wrong, as was his new boss.

He bit back a smile. “Yes, Palmer is a male.”