Page 7 of One Weekend in Vienna

Either option is fine by me.

As we near where Ernst is positioned, he waves us over. I can’t help it, I flex my thighs, giving a power boost and twist my hips sending up an impressive spray of ice as I stop.

Ernst rolls his eyes. “This isn’t speed-skating Olympics, you two. You’re drawing a crowd. This is about the clothes and the ambience, so I need you to look less like you’re trying to race each other and more like you’re in love and having a fun time.”

“I am having fun,” I say, my chest lifting as Anna’s laughter echoes over the rink. It hits me harder than it should, her real laugh, and I spin quickly grabbing her red mitten and pulling her to me. My other hand drops to her waist and Ernst lifts the camera, nodding. The wind blows across the ice and tiny flakes of snow shimmer around us.

As we skate, I can’t help but watch her, the way she moves so in sync with me, we’re almost dancing. I know her smiles and soft touches are for the camera, but I can’t help tucking each one away with wonder, like a child trying to save an icicle.

The sounds of tourists and the excitement of children are part of the Christmas music playing in the background andAnna, with her blonde hair and red scarf floating in the breeze stands out against the lights and colors of the market behind her.

We skate in silence for a while, slipping into a rhythm that Ernst seems happy with and I’m not willing to break the moment with too many words. I should be focused on the rink, on my technique, on the fact that this is part of the job. But my eyes keep drifting to her, taking in the way her cheeks are pink from the cold, her breath visible in short clouds, her smile softer now than it was earlier.

Almost as if this is real.

As we glide past the market stalls, the scents intensify, cinnamon and vanilla, toasted almonds, and spices I can’t identify other than to say it smells like Christmas. The whole place feels like Christmas distilled, pure nostalgia and warmth, like being in a snow globe. Anna slows down arching an eyebrow.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing, just giving you a minute to catch your breath.”

I smirk, skating closer and taking her hand in mine. “You don’t need to worry about me, I can go all night.”

Her mouth opens the tiniest bit, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to kiss her. There’s something vulnerable in her eyes, something that pulls me in even though I know I shouldn’t let it. She doesn’t drop my hand and out of the corner of my eye I see Ernst taking rapid-fire shots. Our breath rises in soft puffs, curling together in the icy air, a visible reminder of just how close our lips are, and I wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s letting down her guard.

“Careful, Anna,” I murmur, letting my voice drop low. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you actually don’t hate me.”

She blinks before narrowing her eyes, lips curving into a wry smile. “If you’re fooled, then I’m clearly doing my job.”

But the way her gaze lingers for just a second too long tells me she’d forgotten about this being a job, and I grin, feeling a distinct flicker of victory as we skate side by side into the glow of Christmas lights.

4

ANNA

The wind whips high enough to send the bells at the entrance gate to the market jangling. Max goes down on one knee in front of me again, tugging off his gloves. My heart stutters, as this pose is too reminiscent of another all-to-familiar pose from my favorite romantic Christmas movies. Stupid, soft heart. I press a hand to my chest as he makes quick work of my skates, his strong hands massaging warmth into my feet before he slides my boots back on, zipping them up for me.

No one has put my skates on for me in a long time. The last person I remember doing it was my dad, here at this very rink, when Felix and I were children and we’d come down to Vienna to visit our grandparents for the holidays. The sweet memory makes me swallow hard, my throat tight.

I love Christmas but sometimes the happiest of memories also make me sad. Max glances up at me. “All done,” he says. He leans closer, a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.” I drag in a deep breath of icy air.

Max stares at me intently for a few seconds but to my relief he doesn’t push and stands, tipping his head up. “Is it always this cold here?” He pulls his hat down over his dark waves.

“In the winter, for sure.” The designer jacket might be a bit tight, but I’m grateful for the warmth. The wind bites my cheeks, mixed with the ice pellets that are starting to fall faster. “Vienna doesn’t get much snow, so this weather is an unpleasant surprise.”

Ernst got what he needed and left some time ago, but Max wanted to keep skating. I can’t say I’m angry about it. I don’t skate all that often anymore, even though I love it. Gliding across the ice tonight was wonderful, even with Max at my side.

I bite my lip. Who am I kidding. I love skating, but I can’t remember a time when I’ve had more fun and that was because of Max. There’s something exhilarating about sparring with him, and he might be a notorious hockey playboy, but it must come easy for him, because even I can’t deny how gorgeous he is. He’s almost too much to look at.

The market is clearing out and closing early because of the weather and I sigh when I see my favorite dessert café is already closed. Hopefully, this poor weather is short-lived because Luxx really wanted some market shots in their portfolio – some potential collaboration with the city to promote tourism at this time of the year, but we’ll have to see how it works out tomorrow. I’m craving some Christmas treats to take the edge off this hunger that grows every time Max flashes that too-perfect-too-dangerous smile.

The short walk back to the hotel is really unpleasant, with the wind burning my cheeks and the ice making the sidewalks a total hazard. Snow vehicles are out, but an alert on my phone warns me to stay off the roads and I reluctantly realize I’m going to have to book a room at the hotel tonight.

As I slip my phone in my pocket, I skid, my heart jumping into my throat as I jerk, arms windmilling to try and regain my balance. Strong arms wrap around me, steadying me as if I weigh absolutely nothing.

Max is holding me, his blue eyes bright. “I’ve got you.”

---