Page 56 of Ice To Meet You

Before I could pass judgement—or ask what was on themenu—I moved to the ladder suspended from the tree overhead. The wooden platform was level with the top of my head, and I loosened my shoulders.

When Matteo had talked about the course, he made it sound like we’d be swinging around in the treetops. Like Tarzan and Jane. This first level was only a little higher than your average A-frame ladder. No higher than when I hung paintings at the gallery.

Admittedly, I usually sent Maurice up where possible. But I liked to think I could stomach a tiny amount of risk.

Matteo drew level with my shoulder. He folded his arms across his chest and raised one of his dark eyebrows in my direction. "You know this is the kids’ course, right?"

I scoffed. “No, it’s not.” I pointed to the placard nailed into the logs. "It’s called anintroductorycourse.”

He chuckled. "Introductory for eight-year-olds.” He brushed some dirt from the sign, revealing a height guide. He was right. To be allowed on this course, you couldn’t be taller than an Oompa Loompa. “But if this is all you can handle,” he said, “I’ll hold your lollipop while you go."

His eyes glinted in the light, and he bit at the corner of his lip, fighting a smile.

I tightened my eyes. He was teasing me again. "I don’t appreciate the mockery. Do you want me to back out? I’m quite happy to drive back to Paris. I have paperwork to do."

"Nope," he said, losing the battle with his grin. "But I was hoping for a bit more … adventure."

I opened my mouth, about to tell him where I’d prefer to shove my lollipop, when two women came down the path. As they passed, one giggled quietly while the other nudged her in the ribs. They both stared at Matteo for longer than socially healthy.

“Do you know them?” I asked, watching their progress down the path into the forest.

“No.”

I pressed my lips together. “Well, they certainly look like they know you.”

He shrugged, playing with the rope attached to the ladder. “Maybe I have one of those faces that looks familiar.”

I clamped my jaw tight. I’d describe his face as less familiar, more devastatingly handsome; but I didn’t think he needed the ego boost. The women put some distance between us. But when they glanced back, giggling this time, my gut gave a subtle twist.

I looked down. Was my fly undone? Was Matteo’s? One quick check reassured me that no wardrobe malfunctions were currently taking place. Maybe the women thought he was somebody famous? His face was chiselled enough to rival any A-list movie star. But the longer they stared, the more my skin prickled.

Come to think of it, the instructor who greeted us had gawked at Matteo like he was the second coming.

“Come on, slowcoach,” he said, placing a palm at the small of my back, moving me towards a sign announcing the start of the proper course.

Any memory of the giggly women or the instructor vapourised with Matteo’s touch and the sight of a much longer, much scarier ladder looming in the distance.

We’d reached the real first platform. It was significantly higher than the kid’s one. I stood frozen at the base, feeling like Jack when he found the beanstalk.

With trembling fingers, I clutched the first rung so tightly my knuckles turned white. I stared at the platform above, my breath shallow and quick, my vision swimming.

Although anchored to the ground, when I touched the rope of the ladder it wobbled and twisted under the slightest pressure.

I sucked in air, this morning’s breakfast hovering dangerouslynear my larynx. “I can’t do it,” I said, my voice wavering. “It’s too high. I’m too scared.”

Matteo stepped closer; his expression softer than I’d ever seen. “Hey, look at me,” he whispered.

I darted a glance in his direction, and he gave me a small, reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to rush. One step at a time, Esmé. That’s all it takes.”

I shook my head. “What if I can’t even take the first step?” My voice cracked as it left my mouth and I stepped back, straight into Matteo’s chest.

The minute I made impact, his gloved hands were at the top of my arms applying light pressure, sending me warmth. His breath grazed at my ear. “I get it,” he said, as if my fear made perfect sense. “Let’s just stand here for a second. No pressure, no hurry.”

His voice was low and steady, grounding me. “I know you’ll be able to climb, but do me a favour. Don’t look up and don’t look down. Just focus on the ladder in front of you. Can you do that for me?”

After three quick heartbeats, I nodded, my gaze dropping to the first rung.

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