They say rules are meant to be broken. But right now, resisting a hot ski bunny in the French Alps threatens my professionality and then some.
I can't jeopardize my position — leading skiing trips gives purpose after injury cut short my competitive dreams. Still, a hazard revealed itself: over 5 feet of heart-stopping blonde bombshell. She barely speaks English but communicates expertly in each coy glance. This French girl's an accident waiting to happen on those slopes without my “private instruction”…maybe literally if I dare provide it. My every instinct is screaming to take the risk. Because I know that look in her eyes — lust served up for the taking the second I stop refusing.
If her heat keeps beckoning, I don’t know how much longer I can resist sweet oblivion in her embrace — duties, judgment and vows drowned out in sounds too urgent to deny.
