Page 30 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

Flustered, Sophie replied in English. ‘Oh, he’s not— Actually we’re working. I’m a wedding planner and I’m trying to see if it would be possible to hold a small ceremony up here. I was just getting a few mock-up shots using him as… um… a groom.’

She didn’t dare meet Andreas’s gaze.

‘I love that idea! Allora, let me take a photo with the two of you and you can take a photo for us.’ She gestured for Sophie to hand over her phone, but Sophie could move only sluggishly as she processed the suggestion. Andreas as a fake groom was amusing, but the two of them together? She made the mistake of meeting Andreas’s equally horrified gaze as the woman continued, ‘Then there can be a brideandgroom in your photo.’

12

‘Bellissimi! You are beautiful!’

It turned out the climber, who had introduced herself as Cristina, was an avid amateur photographer – and Sophie had a penchant for torture that Andreas had never suspected. She must realise the pang of emotion that shot through him as she faced him in front of the cross.

His life flashed before his eyes: the jubilation of summiting an eight-thousander; the apple farm where he’d grown up, always looking up and away from the valley; pain and bitter cold that was somehow addictive; Sophie’s face.Sophie’s face.

There’d been a stage in his life when he’d seen her every time he closed his eyes.

Now, he was looking at her again – slightly rumpled, the way he liked her best. Her top lip was finely drawn, narrow and expressive. Verdammt, he shouldn’t be looking at her lips while they acted out a bizarre non-wedding in preparation for another non-wedding.

‘You hold hands for a wedding, yes? Try that!’

Hoping it would all be over soon, Andreas snatched Sophie’s hands from her sides, gripping them more tightly than he’d intended. How he’d come to stand in front of this cross, facing Sophie while his heart drummed a driving rhythm in his chest, he still couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t a church altar, but it felt every bit like a wedding – which was why his throat had closed and he wanted to crawl out of his skin with discomfort.

‘Idefinitelywant to be married like this!’ Cristina gushed as she peered at the screen, lining up a new shot, pausing only to wink at her partner. ‘A little closer together I think. It’s more natural. And don’t stare at your feet! So many more beautiful things to look at!’

Andreas followed both instructions at the same time, his gaze colliding with Sophie’s just as they found themselves standing as close as they’d been that night in Weymouth when he’d nearly kissed her. She wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were wary, but that only sharpened the impression that this moment meant something.

He gulped, the sound loud in his own ears. He’d just taken a drink from his canteen, but now his mouth was dry as he wondered what she’d look like if she were truly standing up here facing the man she loved – someone who deserved her and would treasure her properly. He wondered if she’d looked happy with Rory and clenched his jaw at the thought that she might have been at one time.

Then he wondered what she would have looked like if he’d just said yes eight years ago, if he’d stood in much the same way in a chapel somewhere back home, taken her hand for real and showered her in promises.

The clarity of the image shook him, as well as the way he could picture raising his hands to her head, gently holding her still while he kissed her and kissed her.

He was light-headed, as though they were at altitude rather than the measly 870m this summit actually was. He had to put some distance between them before he removed all distance entirely.

Sophie’s sudden laugh – breathy and a little wobbly – snapped him back into the present. ‘Your scowl makes this look like a ritual human sacrifice. Only, I don’t know whether you’re sacrificing yourself or getting ready to toss me over the side.’

His hands tightened on hers reflexively as he made a frustrated groan. ‘I’m not thinking about tossing you over the side,’ he growled, pulling on her hands for emphasis and accidentally dragging her closer. Endorphins rushed in his brain in anticipation.

‘You may kiss the bride!’ Cristina announced with a chuckle. ‘It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.’

To Andreas’s horror, he thought for a moment that she really meant a wedding between him and Sophie and the rollercoaster in his chest started off again. All this talk of weddings was making him lose his mind. Sophie’s cheeks went pink in an instant and Andreas stepped back hastily. But he tripped on a stone and teetered alarmingly close to the cliff edge.

With a cry, she fumbled for him, her hands swiping over his chest as she gripped his shirt in two fists and hauled him to safety. She could probably feel his heart bouncing against his ribs, but she’d assume it was because he’d lost his balance. He squeezed her hand with his.

‘Thanks. I’m okay.’

She let go with a grimace. ‘I hope that’s not a sign of what’s to come.’

‘I’m sure it’s just a sign of what would happen if I were ever a groom.’

‘Marriage would kill you, huh?’ she said with a withering look. ‘Maybe I need an “I survived” T-shirt.’ She patted him condescendingly on the chest and he wanted to snag her hand and keep it there – and land a good one on Rory Brent’s nose.

Instead, he turned away, perching on a stone to wait while she snapped a few shots of the two climbers in front of the cross – smiling like normal people, instead of pretending to be a bridal couple.

He had old photos of him and Sophie that looked like that: colourful helmets and wide smiles, a smudge of dust on her cheek, occasionally with Sophie poking out her tongue because she’d been embarrassed by the image of herself on the phone screen. As he watched her wipe sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, bringing her water bottle to her lips, he suspected she wouldn’t be embarrassed like that any more.

‘We should keep moving,’ he said. Ignoring the curious gazes of the climbers, he gave them a firm wave and hefted his pack before swinging himself down the rocky trail they’d climbed half an hour – and a lifetime – ago. They needed to descend quickly if they were going to make the second summit before the weather turned.

He glanced back at Sophie’s progress and found her stepping gingerly down, a long way behind him. She’d done well so far. She was level-headed and sure-footed. He’d noticed her flagging just before the summit, but she’d been able to push through, as he’d known she would.

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