Page 69 of Ice To Meet You

His voice pulled me from my stupor. “Yes?”

“Can you take this off?”

I swallowed hard. Could I? Probably. Should I? Probably not. But as the sting at my bottom pulsed in time with my racing heartbeat, I found myself fresh out of reasons to say no.

With trembling fingers, I undid the sash and shrugged it off, tossing it to the nearby couch. I looked back at our reflection in the window and saw the hungry look on his face. My heart kicked up to a drum roll.

Matteo was about to touch me.

Did I want him to touch me? The thrum in my body answered that question.

“Es,” he said, meeting my eyes in the reflection. “May I?” Hemotioned to the tiny pyjama shorts I wore. “I can’t get to … it’s too …”

He stumbled on his words and my heart went out to him. He sounded vulnerable. Unsure. I was used to his bravado and teasing. He cleared his throat softly. “May I touch you?”

If he didn't, I swear the taut pull of air in the room might shatter around us. Against all my common sense and better judgement, I nodded, pulling my shorts aside to reveal the line of burn underneath my buttock. I swear his cheeks reddened. The apple at his throat bobbed as he brought his fingers to my skin.

The second he touched me, I closed my eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Damn my traitorous lungs. Had they no shame?

I didn’t want Matteo knowing how much I’d dreamed of this moment. When he’d touch me—melt me—and I could throw away all my doubts and fears; all the reasons I’d told myself we couldn’t be a thing. Right now, as his skin softly brushed over mine, I was ready to throw in the “sensible” towel and step aboard the crazy train.

While his fingers worked the sticky paste into my skin, my brain catapulted from pillar to post. From desire to reason. My heart hammered hard in my chest, thundering in my ears. How could he not hear? How could he not know the effect his touch had on me?

I bunched my fists and held my breath. I’d fought my desire so far. Since our crazy meeting on the chairlift, our accidental kiss, and the shower Matteo took here, I’d played my cards like a pro.

Being with him every day, I’d denied the glances he sent me across the gallery when he thought I wasn’t looking. Denied the intensity of being near him. I’d even denied the way just his smile sent a delicious tingle to the bottom of my belly.

And now he was touching me, his thumb drawing the softest line at the top of my thigh.

Heat bloomed beneath his touch, radiating outward until it tangled with my breath.

I should stop the madness now. Slow down my heart and back away from the danger. But as his fingertips moved over my skin, I couldn’t find the will or the words. But no, I had to keep control—had to distract myself. Blindly, I grasped at the first thing that came to mind.

“Do you compete?” I asked, my voice high and tight. I kept my eyes closed, not daring to look at him.

“Sorry?” His voice was as tight as mine.

“You’re some kind of extreme sports superstar.”

He let out a throaty chuckle. “Hardly.”

“Well, you’re a minor celebrity, at least. You said on the course that you don’t post your crazier content anymore. Do you race or anything like that?”

“No. I spend my time finding smooth, virgin snow on the highest mountains in the world.”

Coming from his lips, why did that sound so wrong? So, naughty. Like melted chocolate on hot skin. I licked my lips. “How do you do that?”

He paused. “By helicopter.”

“You jump out of helicopters looking for snow?”

He chuckled. “We don’t jump. But a helicopter gives us access to the most pristine powder and the highest peaks. The rush of descending the mountain is incredible.”

“You’re a heli-skier?” That would account for him being so comfortable on the snow. I saw an article recently in a travel magazine. Young, attractive skiers; gleaming, new equipment. Not a Pikachu sticker in sight. Matteo was in good company.

“That’s it,” he said, as if his “hobby” was on a par with gardening or stamp collecting.

His breath brushed the skin of my buttock, and I closed my lashes tight. His lips must be only millimetres away.

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