“If anyone asks you can blame the ski shop. I’ll never tell.”
Despite our predicament, I giggled casting my eyes over the man’s features again. How old was he? He had a light covering of stubble on his chin, but with that cheeky grin, he was nowhere near ready to collect his pension. He must be one ofthe local instructors; his gear was shiny, new, and expensive looking.
Silence hung between us and with my eyes trained on his solid thighs, I scanned my brain for conversation. “As an instructor, you must get a lot of attention,” I said. “When I learned to ski, my instructor spent more time fighting off flirtatious students than teaching.”
He raised a dark brow, and my stomach dropped. Where hadthatcome from? We’d been talking about helmets and alpine hares. Now, I was practically asking if he had groupies.
“All of his students?” he asked. “Did that include you?”
“Sorry?”
“Did the ski instructor have to fight you off, too?”
The cheeky glint in his eyes set my heart drumming. “Oh, no. Not me—I was too busy trying to stay alive.”
He laughed, the sound deep and warm, wrapping around me like a blanket. “So, you’re a practical woman of moral character, then?”
Something fizzed in my chest. Did he think I was boring? “I’m not dull,” I blurted, “just … steady.” The moment I used the word, I regretted it.
His grin went full high beam. “Steady? Good. Then I won’t need to defend my virtue with my ski poles.”
I blinked, the air between us tightening. Time to pivot.“So, are you an instructor? You look the part with your shiny helmet.”
His eyes widened a fraction before that grin returned. “Let’s just say I know what I’m doing.”
His words lingered, heavy with suggestion. Heat prickled my neck. I shifted in the seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how little space lay between us and how little control I had of my brain and mouth.
As I grappled for a suitable response, a gust of windwhipped up the mountain, sending the chairlift swinging. My chest lurched. “Oh, no.”
He reached for my shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I promise.” His voice was soft and low next to my ear.
“You can’t guarantee that. People aren’t meant to be this high up. It’s unnatural.”
He chuckled. “Tell that to Superman.”
“He isn’t real. We could fall to our deaths.”
“Unlikely.”
“Then tell me. Do people bounce when they hit snow drifts?”
“No”
“Are there rocks on the ground underneath the snow?”
“Probably.”
“Well then, you can’t promise I’ll be okay up here, can you?”
He waited a long beat before replying. “No. But I can sacrifice myself in the event of a hard fall or impalement. I promise. I’ll look after you.”
Under assault of his dark eyes, the skin at the back of my neck prickled. Tiny snowflakes fell, landing on his shoulders, and an icy wind whipped around us.
“So why are you here, in Tiano?” he asked.
Did I want to tell him why I was in town? I’d never see him again and nothing I did in Tiano would affect him. “I’m on holiday,” I lied.
“Nice. Where are you staying?”