She couldn’t let him slip back to that place, wherever it was. She had been too shy, too unsure to ask questions then, to demand answers.
But maybe he needed her to ask them? Maybe by letting whatever had happened lie festering all these years she had done him a disservice. It didn’t mean he would end up declaring his undying love for her, she knew that. It might change things for ever. But if she loved him then she needed to be strong, for once in her life. No matter what the personal cost.
And she wouldn’t get anywhere lying in this bath, tempting as it was to stay in here all night long.
Although she wanted to try out one of the dresses she had bought that day, the prospect of a potential sledge ride made her think again and in the end Flora opted for her smartest black skinny jeans and a long, soft grey jumper with a snowflake motif. She started to automatically twist her hair into a ponytail but instead she let it flow freely across her shoulders, thankful that the wave had held and it hadn’t been too flattened by the hat.
She stood before the mirror and looked down at the last purchase of the day, an impulse buy urged upon her by the shop assistants in the vintage shop. There was no way, they told her, that she could team her formal dress with her usual, insipid shade of lipstick.
She untwisted the top and stared down at the deep, dark red. A colour like that would only draw attention to her mouth and Flora had done her best to disguise its width since the day she had bought her first make-up. It had been the first thing she had been teased about—the kids at school had called her the wide-mouthed frog until she’d started to develop. The names after that had been cruder and even less original.
A sigh escaped her. It was just a colour. And nobody here knew her, would think twice about what colour she chose to paint her mouth. That was it, no more thought. She raised the small stick and quickly dabbed it across her lips, blending in the deep, rich colour. Then before she could backtrack and wipe it off again she turned on her heel and walked away from the mirror. No more hiding.
* * *
‘This one seems to be ours.’ Alex reached out and helped Flora into the old-fashioned, wooden sleigh. She climbed up carefully and settled herself onto the padded bench, drawing the fleecy blankets closely round herself, her feet thankful for the hot bricks placed on the floor. ‘Four horses? They must have heard about the six cakes you put away during Kaffee and Kuchen.’
‘At least I stuck to single figures,’ she countered as he swung himself in beside her. Very close bedside her. Flora narrowed her eyes as she tried to make out the other sledges, already sliding away into the dark in a trample of hooves and a ringing of bells. Were they all so intimately small?
The driver shook the reins, causing a cascade of bells to ring out jauntily, and the sledge moved forward. She was all too aware of Alex’s knee jammed tight against hers, his shoulders, his arm. The smell of him; like trees in spring and freshly cut grass, the scent incongruous in the dark of winter.
‘Have you had a good time at the reception?’ He was as formal as a blind date. It was the first time they had spoken this evening, the first interaction since she had taken a long deep breath and walked into the buzzing lounge. To her surprised relief the reception had been a lot less terrifying than she had anticipated. It was informal, although waitresses circled with glasses of mulled wine, spiced hot-chocolate rum and small, spicy canapés, and most people were more than happy to introduce themselves. The vibe was very much anticipatory and relaxed—the whole hotel felt very different, felt alive now that it was filled. It was no longer their private domain.
‘You know, I actually have.’ She turned and smiled at him. ‘I had a lovely chat to Holly, she writes travel blogs and articles. Did you know her parents are journalists too? Her mum writes one of those family confessional weekly columns and Holly spent her whole childhood being mercilessly exposed in print as well!’
‘That’s great. I can see why you’re so thrilled for her.’
‘Obviously not great for her,’ Flora conceded. ‘But it was so nice to meet someone who understands just how mortifying it is. Her mum still writes about her—only now it’s all about how she wishes she would stop travelling, settle down and pop out grandkids. At least mine hasn’t gone there—yet.’
‘No, but leave it more than five years and she might do a whole show about women who leave it too late to have babies.’ His mouth quirked into a wicked smile.
‘If she does I’ll get her to do a companion show about aging sperm count and use you as her patient,’ Flora countered sweetly and was rewarded by an embarrassed cough.
Silence fell, a silence as dark and impenetrable as the night sky. They were both sitting as far apart as possible, almost clinging onto the side rails, but it was no good; every move of the sleigh slid them back along the narrow bench until they were touching again.
It was all too horribly, awkwardly, toe-curlingly romantic. From the sleigh bells tinkling as the proud-necked white horses trotted along the snowy tracks, to the lanterns the hotel had thoughtfully placed along the paths, the whole scenario was just begging for the lucky passengers to snuggle up under the thick blankets and indulge in some romance beneath the breathtakingly starry sky.
Or, alternatively, they could sit as far apart as possible and make the kind of stilted small talk that only two people who very much didn’t want to be romantic could make. Remarks like, ‘Look, aren’t the stars bright?’ and, ‘The mountains are pretty.’ Yep, Flora reflected after she had ventured a sentence about the height of the pine trees that stretched high up the mountainside, they were definitely reaching new depths of inanity.
If things were normal then they would be curled up laughing under the blankets. She would tease him about the women who had been clustered around him at the reception; he would try and cajole her to be a little more open-minded about her first ski lesson. They would probably refresh themselves from a hip flask. Completely at ease. But tonight the memory of that almost-kiss hung over them. It was in the clip clop of the horse’s hooves, in the gasp of the sharp, cold mountain air, in the tall ghostly shadows cast by the lantern-lit trees.
‘I feel like I should apologise,’ she said after a while. ‘And I am sorry for being drunk and silly, for putting you in a difficult position with Camilla. I am really sorry that you are having to sleep on the narrowest, most uncomfortable sofa I have ever had the misfortune to sit on in my life. And I’m sorry I kissed you.’ She swallowed. ‘I should have taken the hint when you stopped me all those years ago. But I’ve wanted to know what we’d be like most of my life. And when you told me I couldn’t live in fear of rejection I just had to try, one more time...’
‘And?’ His voice was husky, as if it hurt him to speak. ‘Was it worth it?’
‘You tell me.’ Flora shifted so she was sitting side on, so that she could see the inscrutable profile silhouetted against the dark night by the lantern light. ‘Because I think actually that you wanted to as well. Maybe you have always wanted to. Even back then.’
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Flora’s heart speeded up with every second of silence until she felt as if it might explode open with a bang.
‘You’re right. I did. And it was...it was incredible. But you and me, Flora. It would never work. You know that, right?’
Her heart had soared with the word incredible, only to plummet like an out-of-control ski jumper as he finished speaking.
She wasn’t good enough for him. Just as she had always known. ‘Because I don’t have aspirations?’ she whispered. ‘Because I mess up?’
‘No! It’s not you at all.’
The denial only served to irritate her. Did he think she was stupid? ‘Come on, Alex. I expected better from you of all people. You don’t have to want me, it’s okay, but please respect me enough not to fob me off with the whole “It’s not you, it’s me” line. Do you know how many times
I’ve heard it? And I know you trot it out on a regular basis.’
‘But this time I mean it. Dammit, Flora. Do you really think I’m good enough for you? That there’s anything in my soulless, workaholic, shallow life that could make you happy?’
‘I...’ Was that really what he thought? ‘You do make me happy. You’re my best friend.’
‘And you’re mine and, believe me, Flora, I am more grateful for that than you will ever know. But you’ve been saving me since you were eight. Now it’s my turn to save you. From me. Don’t you think I haven’t thought about it? How easy it would be? You’re beautiful and funny and we fit. We fit so well. But you deserve someone whole. And I haven’t been whole for a long, long time.’
How could she answer that? How could she press further when his voice was bleak and the look in his eyes, when the lamp highlighted them, was desolate? She took in a deep breath, the cold air sharpening her focus, the icy breeze freezing the tears that threatened to fall.
‘I break everything I touch, Flora,’ Alex said after a while. ‘I can’t, I won’t break you. I won’t break us. Because if I didn’t have you in my life I wouldn’t have anything. And I’m just too selfish to risk that.’
What about me? she wanted to ask. Don’t I get a say? But she didn’t say anything. Instead she slipped her glove off and reached her hand across until she found his, looping her cold fingers through his, anchoring him tightly. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she whispered, her head on his shoulder, breathing him in. ‘I promise, you don’t get rid of me that easily.’
He didn’t answer but she felt the rigid shoulder relax, just a little, and his fingers clasped hers as if he would never let her go. Maybe this would be enough. It would have to be enough because it was all he was offering her.
CHAPTER SIX
‘YOU ARE NOT seriously expecting me to get down there?’ Flora pushed up her goggles and glared at the ski instructor.
He shrugged. ‘It’s the only way down.’
‘Yes, but I thought we would stay on the nursery slopes until I could actually ski! This is a proper mountain. With snow on it.’
‘Flora, you were too good for those within an hour and you nailed that blue. You are more than ready for this. Come on, it’s an easy red. End the day on a high note.’
‘Red!’ She stared down the icy slope. Easy? It was practically vertical. Her palms dampened at the thought of launching her body down there. She glared at a small group of schoolkids as they enthusiastically pushed off. They were smaller, more compact. Had a lot less further to fall...
A figure skied easily down the higher slopes towards them and pulled up with a stylish turn, which made Flora yearn to push them right over.
‘Having trouble?’ Alex. Of course. He was annoyingly at home on the slopes. Although, she reflected, he had an unfair disadvantage; after all he’d gone skiing with his school every year since he was eight. After he had left home and put himself through college and then university, his one extravagance was skiing holidays—although a host of rich school friends with their own chalets helped keep the costs down.
‘She won’t go,’ her instructor explained. ‘I tell her it’s more than doable but she refuses.’
‘So how are you planning to get down, Flora? Bottom first?’
She glared at the two of them, hating their identical, idiotic male grins. If only this particular slope had a nice cable car, like the one that had brought them up to the nursery slopes from the hotel. Then she could have just hopped back in and had a return ride. But no, it was a one way trip up in the lift and no way back down apart from on two plastic sticks.
Or she could wait here until spring and walk down in a nice sensible fashion.
The surprising thing was that she had been doing okay, that was very true. Surprisingly okay in fact. But not so okay that she wanted to take on such a big run. Not yet.
‘The only way to improve is to test yourself,’ Alex said, still annoyingly smug. ‘And this looks far worse than it is. Really it’s just a teeny step up from a blue.’
‘Stop throwing colours at me. It’s not helping.’ The truth was she had barely slept again. An early start and an entire day of concentrating on a new sport had pushed her somewhere beyond tiredness to exhaustion. Muscles she hadn’t even known she possessed ached, her feet hurt and all she wanted was a long, hot bath.
But she wouldn’t be able to relax even once back in the room. Because Alex would be there. Their conversation from last night had buzzed around and around and around in her head until she wanted to scream with frustration. It had told her so much—and yet it had told her nothing at all. Why did he think he was broken?
‘Look, I’ll take it from here,’ Alex told her instructor. ‘Why don’t you get going and you can start again tomorrow? I promise to return her in one piece.’
The instructor regarded her inscrutably from behind his dark lenses. He was tall, tanned and had a lithe grace that at any other time she would have had some pleasure in appreciating but it had been absolutely wasted on her today—she had been far too tired to attempt to flirt back.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ he said finally. It didn’t sound like a request. ‘You will be begging to try a black slope by the end of the week.’
‘Never,’ but she muttered it under her breath, just holding up a hand in farewell as he launched himself down, as graceful as a swallow in flight.
‘So, you know another way down?’
Alex shook his head. ‘It’s on your own two skis only. And we need to hurry up. It’s getting late.’
Flora bit her lip. She shouldn’t be such a wuss but staring down that great expanse made her stomach fall away in fear. It was the same reaction she’d had when Alex took her abseiling. She and mountains were not a good mixture. From now on she would stick to flat surfaces only. Like beaches; she was good with beaches.
‘Okay.’ She inhaled but the action didn’t soothe her at all, her stomach still twisting and turning. Did people really do this for fun?
‘I’ll be right next to you,’ he said, his voice low and comforting. ‘I’ll talk you through every turn.’
‘Right.’
She pulled her goggles back down. Alex was right. It was just after four p.m. and the sun was beginning to disappear, the sky a gorgeous deep red. The slopes had been getting quieter so gradually she had barely noticed, but now it was obvious as she looked around that they were almost alone. Ahead of her the last few skiers were taking off, leaving the darkening slopes, ready to enjoy the huge variety of après-ski activities Innsbruck had to offer.
‘It’s a shame I didn’t know you were here earlier.’ Alex adjusted his own goggles. ‘A couple of the hotel lodges are on this shelf. I’d have liked to show them to you.’
‘It is a shame you didn’t because I am never coming back here again.’
But he just laughed. ‘You wait, when you’ve done it twice you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about and be begging me to let you try something harder. Okay, count of three. One...two...three.’
Flora gritted her teeth and pushed off as he said three. The slope had been completely deserted as Alex began his countdown but as he reached the last number a group of snowboarders appeared from the slope above. Impossibly fast, impossibly spread out and impossibly out of control. Flora saw them out of the corner of her eyes and panicked, losing control of her own skis almost immediately as they swarmed by her, one of them catching her pole with his stick and spinning her as he sped by. She shouted out in fear and grappled for her balance, falling heavily, her ankle twisting beneath her.
‘Oi!’ But by the time Alex had caught her and yelled out a warning they were gone, their whoops and yells dissipating on the breeze. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I think so.’ But Flora couldn’t quite stop the little shivers of fear as Alex pulled her up. ‘I
thought they were going to run me right over.’
‘I’ll be putting in a complaint as soon as we get back down.’ He retrieved her ski and handed it to her. ‘Here you go, you’re fine. I hate to hurry you, Flora, but it’s getting pretty late. I don’t want to guide you down in the dark. That would send you over the edge.’
‘I know...’ How long would it take? Her instructor had said that it was a ten-minute run but if Alex was going to talk her through it surely that would add on a few crucial minutes. She looked anxiously at the sky; the red was already turning the purple of twilight. Did they have fifteen minutes?
She put the ski down and slid her foot into the binding, wincing as a spasm of pain ran across her ankle. ‘Ow!’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I must have twisted my ankle as I fell. It’s not too bad. I should be able to walk it off...’
‘But you can’t ski on it.’ His mouth tightened. ‘Those damned idiots.’
‘Can’t we ask for help?’
‘We could. But I hate to ask the rescue guys to come out in the dark for a twisted ankle—especially as we took so long to get started. We’re going to look pretty silly.’
‘But we can’t stay here all night.’ Or did he still think she was going to make it down while they could still see? Flora swallowed. She was not going to cry.
Alex grinned. ‘Panic not. I have a solution. Remember I said the ski lodges were on this shelf? This kind of situation is exactly what they’re for. They should be completely kitted out because I know Camilla is hoping that some guests will try them out. It’s hard to get permission to build anything up here so they’re pretty special. Warm, comfortable and there should be food.’
‘You built them for guests who got stranded on the slopes?’ Now she thought she really might cry. Salvation! If the lodge only had running hot water then she would never ever complain about anything ever again. Her ankle was beginning to throb in earnest now and, standing still, Flora was all too aware of the chill bite of the wind.
Proposal At The Winter Ball (Harlequin Romance) Page 7
