Page 174 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

Mateo frowned now and resigned himself to the fact that his wayward mind was just going to carry on travelling down memory lane. Maybe releasing pent-up thoughts wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe every so often he needed to pull them out from whatever vault he’d stashed them in and examine them, remind himself why he was the person he was—someone who would never take on commitment again or think that love was something that actually existed.

Maybe it paid sometimes, such as when a perfect stranger somehow put him on the back foot, to remember the ex-wife who had resurfaced five years after their divorce to try and squeeze money out of him. He’d been on the up and she’d been pregnant with another man’s baby but that hadn’t stopped her from trying to emotionally blackmail him into handing over money to her.

He was just managing to get back in control, and beginning to be just a little amused by his own temporary bout of introspection, when he heard Alice clear her throat from behind him. He turned round to see her standing in the doorway and this time she wasn’t in tight, wet ski gear. No snug thermals were lovingly stretched across a body that was sex on legs.

She was wearing his clothes and it felt incredibly intimate. He felt a rush of blood to his head as he looked at her from under lowered lashes. She wore black joggers, and a striped jumper, everything rolled, cuffed and tugged tight, yet still swamping her.

Jesus.

He felt faint.

‘Smells delicious...and thank you for the clothes. Not quite my size but I actually feel like a human being again.’

Mateo watched as she smiled and edged into the kitchen, all tension from earlier gone as a naturally upbeat nature was revealed. He was lost for words.

‘Sit.’ It was more of a command than he’d intended and he flushed darkly. ‘Make yourself at home,’ he countered roughly. ‘And then you can begin to tell me what brings you to this part of the world—by which I mean the wrong side of the mountain.’

He reminded himself that this wasn’t a social visit and he wasn’t playing the part of Prince Charming looking for the owner of a glass slipper. She’d landed on his doorstep through her own foolish risk-taking, and in so doing had interrupted his very much anticipated time-out here.

‘Because, just in case you didn’t know,’ he went on, ‘This part of Mont Blanc takes no prisoners. For future reference, it’s easy to end up a casualty of nature here unless you happen to be an experienced skier.’

‘And I will duly remember your words of warning.’ She gave that smile again, this time pretending and failing to be contrite. Mateo frowned, irritated to be taken off-guard once again.

‘I promise: Scout’s honour. And now, before I explain why I ended up banging on your door, let me help you do something. I may not be the best cook in the world but I’m a dab hand when it comes to chopping stuff.’

She walked towards him and Mateo looked at her narrowly, taking in everything and finding it difficult to drag his gaze away.

CHAPTER TWO

‘ICANHANDLEONIONS.’

‘There’s no need for you to earn your keep by helping, Alice. Sit, relax—recover from your ordeal.’

‘Honestly, I like to help out.’ Alice smiled when she thought about her parents. She had grown up with people coming and going; helping out wherever and whenever was ingrained in her, which was probably why she had become a teacher. She enjoyed kids, and enjoyed the business of having a job where she felt she might be making a real difference. ‘Now that we’ve established that you’re not an axe-murderer,’ she teased playfully, ‘can you tell me what you do?’

Out of the corner of her eye she could see his hands, strong and bronzed, as he expertly continued to prepare whatever meal he had been preparing before she had ruined his peace.

‘I... I’m self-employed, you could say.’

‘That’s tough, but you’re obviously good at what you do, if you can afford a chalet out here.’

‘Tough?’

‘I’d hate the insecurity—never knowing where your next meal is coming from. I teach. It’s the most secure job in the world.’ Her eyes were beginning to water and she blinked and stepped back a bit.

‘You’re a teacher? Shouldn’t you be at a school somewhere?’

‘Half-term; I’m here with three friends. I can’t tell you how relieved they were to hear from me! Anyway, we’ve been planning this trip for ages, and just going back to when you told me about being an idiot for skiing on this side of the mountain...’

She grimaced and looked sideways at him. ‘I’m actually a pretty experienced skier,’ she confessed, resuming her work on the onions, but half-heartedly, because she was so conscious of him next to her. She was buzzing with curiosity but knew better than to indulge it. Whoever he was and whatever he did, he didn’t seem to be the sort of open, talkative guy she was used to. She felt way out of her comfort zone just being around him and that was weirdly exciting. She wondered whether she was getting on his nerves with her chat but then what else was she supposed to do? She was talkative by nature and the thought of standing there in a state of repressed silence filled her with horror.

Actually, she just didn’t think she could do it.

‘I taught skiing on these very slopes for six months... Well, notthesevery ones—the easier runs on the other side—before I started my teacher training course.’

‘Right.’

‘So I’m accustomed to difficult runs but that blizzard just dropped out of the sky like a snow bomb. By the time it hit, there was no one else around on the slopes.’

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