The next morning, Scarlett was left to work the dogs on her own. Lauren and Shane had an appointment in the city and insisted that Scarlett should call with any questions that popped up.
Lauren had wanted to help the first couple of hours before they had to leave, but Scarlett wanted to try a full day by herself. It was always easier to learn without the training wheels dragging behind. Not that she didn’t enjoy working side by side with her best friend, but she craved the extra responsibility.
She’d put her job on hold to give this sledding thing a serious attempt, and—by golly—she was going to do it right.
A part of her also suspected she hadn’t seen the last of Henry Mitchell, III, and she preferred to meet him alone, should she meet him at all. Lauren had gotten far too worked up yesterday, and Scarlett wasn’t about to go asking for a repeat.
Sure enough, as she was tying her strongest wheel dogs, Fred and Wendy, to her newly rebuilt sled, a sleek, luxury car pulled into the drive.
She turned toward the sound of spitting ice and salt, just in time to see Henry slam the door of his Mercedes and begin his approach toward the kennels.
“Lauren isn’t here,” Scarlett called across the slope of land. Today she would not be silenced. Today she would speak her mind—and give Henry a piece of it.
“I’m not here for her,” he said, raising his hand to wave. “I’m here for you.”
“For me? You don’t even know me.”
“Ahh, well, that’s not strictly true. I may not know your name. Yet,” he added with a smile. It was the only authentic one she’d seen from him to date. Her heart tightened defensively as he closed the distance between them and offered his hand in greeting.
“But I plan to fix that now,” he said cheerily. “Hello, I’m Henry.”
She took his hand and gave it a single, firm shake—a warning. But was it meant to warn him off bothering her, or meant to tell her own heart that he had no place occupying it?
“And you are?” he prompted.
No, she would not give into him that easily. She needed more from him before he’d get anything from here. She glowered at him, unwilling to play into his game simply for the sake of being nice. “Why are you here?”
“To get your name.” He placed both hands in his pockets, casual, confident, cocky as all get out.
“If that’s all you came for, then you’re going to be pretty disappointed.” She turned her back to him and checked that the dogs’ harnesses were taut against their backs.
Henry bent at the waist, trying to make eye contact with her stooped figure. “And to say I’m sorry.”
She laughed and watched as the little puffs of her breath broke apart in the air.
“Not exactly the response I was expecting, but I guess it’s better than getting attacked with a snow hook.” He laughed, too—and it felt real, not like the practiced chortle she’d heard him make on his many news interviews.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot. You don’t seem to have such a good impression of me.” He laughed, this time self-deprecatingly, but Scarlett refused to join in.
“How could I?” she demanded as she rose to a standing position and faced him nose-to-nose. “Seeing how you act like the world belongs to you? Knowing who you are?”
He sighed, his confidence shaken for the first time in her presence. “That’s where you’re wrong. You know who my family is, but you don’t know me from Adam.”
“Whoever Adam is, I’m sure he’s a nicer guy than you,” she spat as she continued to examine her sled and prepare it for its next run. The work kept her mind focused, which is exactly what she needed to ignore the strange feelings that flooded her senses whenever Henry was near. She traced her way back around and stood on the rack, her stance ready.
Henry followed her as she circled the sled and placed a firm hand on one of the holds beside her own. “Maybe. But could you at least let me explain?”
She shook her head and looked away. “I don’t owe you anything, and I doubt Lauren and Shane want you on their property. Besides, I have work to do.”
“Then let me help you,” he seemed to beg. But that was ridiculous. This rich, entitled boy had probably never wanted for a single thing in his entire life.
And Scarlett refused to give into him now. Rather than saying another word to this second-time trespasser, she yelled for the dogs to “hike!” The sled took off like a shot.
Less than a second later, something warm slammed into her from behind. In horror, she realized that Henry hadn’t let go of the sled, but had instead used his hold on the grips to pull himself aboard.
“You didn’t say no!” he shouted over the rushing wind.