Chloe loved skiing.

The jagged, towering peaks covered in snow, the smell of fresh pine, the rush of wind on your face — it was terribly addicting. And then there was the après-ski, of course, which was usually even better. Les Deux Alpes was known for its nightlife; there was an open-air bar on top of the mountain, as well as a nightclub in the shape of an igloo.

Yes.

She was looking forward to this weekend.

At least, she had been until just now.

"What is that?" she demanded.

Logan gave her a sheepish grin. He was propped up in the backseat of the Winters' black Audi, an air cast on his left leg. "I broke it."

"Doing what?"

"Rock-climbing."

Chloe groaned. "You idiot! Who am I meant to ski with now?"

Kate twisted around in the driver's seat. "I'll ski with you."

"Oh, no, you won't," Jack said, shooting her a look from the passenger seat. "You're staying in the lodge with me, remember? We're playing Scrabble."

Chloe scowled. Bit rude. He'd known Kate for what, like five seconds? She threw her luggage forcefully into the boot of the car. Chloe was meant to be his best friend.

The snake.

"Well, I'm not skiing on my own," she announced.

"Nonsense." Jack waved her off. "Mum will ski with you."

Laura and Richard Winters were flying out to the ski resort, leaving the children to tackle the 24-hour slog out to the mountains with all of the gear. Considering that they were paying for the chalet, however, Chloe would have happily towed a three-tonne trailer filled with explosives, if they asked her to.

Plus, Laura was an excellent skier; she even competed in GS as a teenager. Chloe personally thought that the idea of hurtling around large poles at high speeds was mental, so, you know — good on Laura.

"Good point," Chloe said, slightly cheered. "Scoot over, Logan."

She half-expected him to protest — Logan was known for his theatrics, after all — but he merely shrugged, making room for her in the backseat.

"Buckle up," he murmured, and Chloe shot him an odd look.

Weird.

Since when did Logan care about safety?

"Everyone ready?" Kate chirped.

Three voices chimed their assent.

They arrived at the chalet at sunrise.

Burnt crimson licked the sky, colouring all of the sloped wooden homes in a hazy butter yellow. Fresh powder crunched under their feet. Chloe could hear the telltale grinding of gears as ski lifts blinked their sleepy eyes, working out the kinks in their necks. The frozen air felt still. Peaceful, even.

Laura and Richard had — to no surprise — rented one of the most expensive chalets available. The three-bedroom luxury retreat was dug half-way into the mountain, equipped with heated boot warmers, a wood-burning fire place, and a hot tub on the terrace.

Chloe was also relieved to find that it came with WiFi.

Technically speaking, she had taken today off from work — but in the world of marketing, you were always on call.

"Darlings!"

Laura swooped in, kissing them all on the cheeks. She was already dressed in a fuzzy pink jacket, carrying orange juice that Chloe highly suspected contained alcohol.

She checked her watch.

10 a.m.

Fair play, Laura. Fair play.

"How was the journey?" Richard asked.

"Long," Jack yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Kate was an absolute star." He dropped his arms. "Oh. Speaking of which. Mum, Dad — this is Kate."

Chloe wandered to the window as introductions were made. The village below was framed in the vaulted glass, like a picture-perfect Christmas postcard. She could even see smoke puffing from several brick chimneys. Hell, she wouldn't have been surprised to see reindeer sauntering past.

Hang on. Were reindeer native to France?

She hoped they didn't eat reindeer here; that had certainly put a damper on the holidays when she was an eight-year-old in Finland.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

She jumped slightly. Logan joined her at the window, smiling slightly. Not his usual smirk, Chloe realized with some surprise, but a real smile. The kind that reached his eyes. Her stomach flipped over.

She nodded to his leg. "Should you be standing on that?"

Logan tapped his crutches. "That's what these bad boys are for." He shrugged. "Anyways, it's not that bad."

"Your cast says otherwise."

"Touché."

"Well, at least your bruise is healing," Chloe sighed. "That's good news."

Unthinkingly, she reached up to touch his temple. He half-closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. The light streaming in through the window softened his face, and a halo of dust motes circled his blond hair. One lock of hair curled slightly at the top.

"I'm happy you're here," he murmured.

"You'll be sick of me soon."

"No, I won't," he said solemnly. "I won't ever be sick of you, Chloe Cartwright."

She flushed. His eyes were aquamarine seas, the kind that you found only on distant, far-flung beaches, like Thailand or the Maldives. You could get lost in those kind of eyes. And the most dangerous part was that you wouldn't want to be found.

"Logan!"

She jumped, stepping back slightly. Jack appeared at their side.

"Mum and Dad are going skiing," Jack informed them. "We're going to get a few hours of sleep first, though; Kate's exhausted. Then we'll join them for lunch." He ruffled Chloe's hair. "Sound good, Chlo-ster?"

She blinked at him. "Since when do you call me Chlo-ster?"

Jack froze, just for a second. Then he grinned. "What can I say?" He nudged his brother. "Logan's a bad influence."

"Careful," Chloe hissed.

Her hand shot out to steady Logan's crutches, and she glared up at Jack. Christ. It wasn't like Jack to be so reckless. What the hell had gotten into him lately?

"Sorry," Jack muttered, sounding totally unapologetic.

"Right." Logan glanced down the corridor. "Where's our room, then?"

"Whose room?"

Logan stared at him. "Yours and mine, dipshit."

"Oh, no." Jack smirked. "I'm sharing with Kate."

"What?"

It was hard to say who spoke the loudest: Chloe, Logan or Kate.

Chloe blinked. No. Surely she had heard Jack incorrectly. He got so nervous on first dates that he had to do a tequila shot before he left his flat. He wasn't planning to share a bed with Kate when he'd known her for less than a week, was he?

And where the hell did that leave Chloe?

With Logan?

She glanced sideways at him. It wasn't that she was opposed to sharing a bed with him — far from it, actually — but it seemed a bit soon. Even for her.

"No," Logan said vehemently. "Absolutely not."

Chloe scowled. Christ. Well, he didn't need to sound so totally against it. What was she, Attila the Hun?

"I second that," Chloe said, clearing her throat. "I'm not sharing with Logan."

Maybe Jack. At a push.

But not Logan.

"Count me out, too," Kate said, glaring at Jack. "But nice try."

Jack didn't look remotely bothered. "You'll change your mind eventually, darling."

And then he winked at her.

He winked.

Chloe stared at him. Did those words just come out of Jack Winters' mouth? Was the whole world going mad?

"Well, I'm sharing with Kate," she declared. "And we're taking the bigger room." She moved to stand beside her in a show of solidarity. "Or whichever one comes with an ensuite."

Fortunately, Jack knew when he was beat.

Kate and Chloe claimed the room with the larger windows, dragging their suitcases down the corridor. Kate was asleep in ten seconds flat, snoring away with unashamed abandon. Chloe, on the other hand, stared up at the vaulted wooden ceiling.

Something wasn't right with Jack.

What the hell was up with him?

She rolled over, pillowing her head on her hands. Was he trying to show off to impress Kate? Maybe. But then he'd volunteer to go skiing, wouldn't he? Besides, Kate didn't seem like the type to fall for arrogance and bluster.

Maybe Jack hit his head recently.

Or his body had been hijacked by aliens.

Yes. That seemed like the most likely possibility.

Chloe rolled on to her back. Oh, sod it. She wasn't going to be able to sleep, was she? Not with Jack on her mind. She might as well hit the trails. It wasn't like any of the others were going to join her, anyways.

She yanked on her new ski pants and a jacket, scooping up her goggles, mitts and helmet. God, there was a lot of gear. She padded towards the living room. She probably resembled a snowman. Or a marshmallow. A tiny, round—

She paused.

Hang on. Someone was awake.

Chloe peered into the living room. Jack was fiddling with the fire, a determined look on his face. No, wait; it was Logan. One foot was propped up on the sofa, still bound in a cast, and yes — there was the missing eyebrow.

She blinked. So why the hell were there University Challenge cards spread across the coffee table?

Logan was a lot of things. Sporty. Charming. Funny.

Academically inclined, however...

Chloe cleared her throat. Logan didn't turn. She was about to try again when a piece of gold tinsel suddenly snapped, rocketing down from the eaves.

She watched it all in slow motion. Gold tinsel. Open fire. Big flame.

Logan cursed like a sailor, springing to his feet. He shot to the kitchen, rummaging through drawers until he found a fire extinguisher. Chloe stood, frozen, as Logan sprayed white foam all over the wood-burning stove, smothering the flames. Black ashes smoldered in the grate.

He stood back, wiping his brow.

Hang on. Chloe's eyes narrowed. He was standing.

On his bad foot. Without his crutches.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

Logan spun around. He looked so guilty that it would have been funny if Chloe wasn't absolutely fuming. He ran a hand through his blond hair.

"Chloe!" he sputtered. "What are you—? I mean, I thought..."

"I was sleeping?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm not," Chloe said coolly. "And neither are you, apparently." She eyed the shriveled tinsel narrowly. "Considering a career in arson?"

"That was an accident."

"Oh, yeah?" She arched an eyebrow. "Like your rock-climbing one?"

Logan's eyes darted around the room, like a hunted rabbit looking for an exit. Fat chance. Chloe was about to make a house fire seem like a welcome Friday afternoon activity.

"You lied to me," she said sharply.

"I didn't—"

"Don't bother." She held up a hand. "If you didn't want to ski with me, Logan, you could have just said."

Ah, shit. Chloe could hear the hurt in her own voice. That wasn't part of the plan. Scary, she reminded herself firmly. Be scary. It was difficult, when you were only 5'1 and weighed as much as a small deer, but she could try.

"Chloe..." Logan's face softened. "I do want to ski with you."

"Then explain."

"I just..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I'm a little intimidated by you, okay? I don't want to make an idiot of myself on the slopes. Not in front of you, anyway."

Chloe's heart hammered. She could hear the sincerity in his voice this time, and she softened slightly. Instinctively, she stepped forward, taking his hand. A jolt of electricity went through her. Like she had drank too much coffee at once.

"You don't need to prove anything to me."

"Easy for you to say," he muttered.

"I mean it." Chloe squeezed his hand. "I like you just the way you are, Logan."

He flinched. "Chloe..."

"Everything okay?"

They both spun around. Kate stood in the doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes. Jack was a few feet behind her, and he sniffed the air slightly.

"Is something burning?"

"We heard yelling," Kate explained, yawning. "And a lot of noise."

"What's going on?" Jack demanded.

Chloe looked at Logan. Logan looked at Chloe.

"Logan's foot is better," Chloe said dryly. "It's a Christmas miracle."

Jack froze. "It is?"

"Yup." Chloe looked up at Logan, her eyes narrowing. "And to celebrate, we're going skiing. Just the two of us."

Take that, Logan Winters.