Page 175 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

‘Perhaps they’d wisely noticed the darkening skies, because I’m really struggling to believe that a blizzard can strike within seconds. Somehow that seems to defy the laws of nature.’

‘That’s a possibility,’ Alice conceded thoughtfully. She paused and then swivelled so that she was leaning against the counter, her hazel eyes pensive as she stared off into the distance. ‘I’m normally really clued up when it comes to changes out here but...my mind was a million miles away. What seemed sudden may not have been quite as sudden as I thought.’

Mateo took over the onions. He looked down at her, primed to discourage any unwelcome outpouring of personal back-stories, but hesitated at the expression on her face, which was a mixture of sadness and resignation.

Something in his gut made him think that she was too young and too inherently upbeat to be sad and resigned. Suddenly he felt a hundred years old. He was thirty-three. He couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than her but he felt jaded, cynical and ancient.

He knew how that had happened, and knew that there was nothing wrong with being cynical, because cynicism was a great self-defence mechanism. But for the first time he uneasily wondered what another road might have looked like. Disillusionment and the bitterness of divorce had taught him the value of being tough and keeping out the world, but what would that world have looked like if he had kept doors open to it? The openness of the woman looking at him seemed to encourage restless thoughts that had no place in his life.

Impatient with himself, he told her to go and sit.

‘There’s not much left to do,’ he said shortly. ‘Dinner will be ready in half an hour.’

‘Okay.’

‘And help yourself to more wine.’

He’d opened a bottle of red and poured them both a glass. She’d sipped her way through half of hers.

‘I’m annoying you, aren’t I?’

‘What sort of question is that?’ Mateo turned to look at her. She had subsided into one of the chairs at the table, a small thing bundled in clothing too big for her, nursing her glass and staring mournfully in his direction.

‘I don’t suppose you expected to end up having to cook food for someone you don’t want in your chalet.’

‘Life throws curve balls.’

‘You don’t strike me as the sort who does curve balls. A bit like you don’t do movies.’

‘Come again?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Alice shrugged. ‘I don’t blame you for being annoyed that you’re stuck with me. Hopefully this blizzard will die down tomorrow and I can be on my way.’ She rose to stroll towards the bank of windows and peered through the wooden shutters that concealed the vast space outside. ‘Doesn’t look like it,’ she said on a sigh. ‘When you’re in here, you don’t think it’s as wild outside as it is.’

‘Your friends...’ Mateo said awkwardly, sipping his wine and staring at her over the rim of his glass but remaining where he was, leaning against the counter, keeping a safe distance between them. He didn’t like the way he was distracted by her. ‘Is one of them your partner? If so, no need to be depressed about it. I’m sure this will blow over and I’ll make sure you’re safely delivered back to your lodge.’

‘Thank you. I’m an excellent skier; I certainly don’t need to be delivered anywhere safely by you! The days of damsels in distress needing to be rescued by knights in shining armour, who think they’re better skiers than they are, are long over.’ She grinned.

Mateo shot her a reluctant smile. He was tempted to tell her that he couldn’t think of any woman who would have rejected his offer and a lot who would have tried to engineer that exact situation. However, something told him that any comment along those lines wouldn’t go down well, which made the temptation to voice it even stronger.

‘But what about the anxious boyfriend wringing his hands and waiting for you to show up? Is he as experienced a skier as you?’

Food ready, Mateo began bringing dishes to the table, proud of the way he had risen to the occasion without resentment and only a little bit of initial hostility. The woman might have something about her he found a little unsettling, but it hadn’t put too much of a dent in his basic manners. He’d stepped up to the plate and not allowed his own personal annoyance at her invasion of his privacy get the better of him.

He wondered whether it helped that she was so straightforward and not interested in him as anything other than someone who had come to her aid. Maybe her sheer novelty value had lowered his defences, or maybe the unexpected situation had in turn generated unexpected reactions—unwelcome, uninvited but oddly energising, intoxicating reactions.

Alice’s stomach rumbled. She didn’t want to appear rude but she honestly couldn’t wait to dive into what he had produced from some onions, tomatoes and other bits and pieces that would probably have confounded her. Her culinary skills were basic to say the least. She watched as he helped her to the breaded chicken and pasta in a sauce that made her mouth water. She saw a shadow of a smile on his face.

‘That’s quite enough,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I couldn’t possibly eat any more.’

‘What about some cheese?’

Alice hesitated. He was here on his own and he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, not that that meant much. But was there a girlfriend in the background somewhere—even a wife? Whoever he was going out with, she was pretty sure that person wouldn’t have wanted to tuck into a plate piled high with food topped with a generous dollop of fresh parmesan on top.

‘Okay but just a bit. For the record, I’m here with three girlfriends. I... I don’t have an anxious boyfriend waiting for me anywhere.’

‘So what propelled you to make a headlong dash to this side of the mountain without your friends?’ He shot her an astute look that was discomforting, because it seemed to bore straight into her. ‘If I were the sort to indulge in guessing games, I’d have said you would have shot down here because of boyfriend troubles.’

‘I...’

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