Page 43 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

Adrenaline shot through him. His hands slammed into the rock on either side of her for balance. His helmet knocked into hers, but he was too overcome to do anything about it. The heat – the softness. Her lips moving over his, drawing him out and pulling him in. The fire in his skin, the fog in his brain. Her fingers insistent on the back of his neck.

The drag of her mouth over his, her shudder of response when he pushed back, when he inclined his head and opened his lips, sparking a heavy craving. One hand made it to her head, his thumb chafing her cheek as his fingers curled under her ear.

God, he’d forgotten how he could lose himself in kissing her – or he’d blocked it out. She’d always been so sweet and eager and he’d wallowed in the simplicity of it.

She straightened, lifting her head as she deepened the kiss further with a tease of her tongue. A rasping, pent-up groan rose from his chest and he let her drag him closer, her hand curling in his harness.

He was light-headed, his blood rushing, his mind full of Sophie and his lungs protesting the lack of air. When her lips broke away from his, he should have been relieved. His body felt lit up like the June bonfires back home. But he wanted her.

Her face was close enough that he could see the imperfections in her skin; he noticed he’d smudged dirt on her cheek.

‘Andreas,’ she said, her voice low. Whether it was a warning or an invitation, he couldn’t tell. ‘Do you think that was a bad idea?’

‘I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.’

It wasn’t an answer, but she took it as one, lifting her hands to his face and starting the process all over again.

Her fingertips light on his cheeks made him lose orientation. All he knew was that he needed to stay right here where she was. The second kiss was slower, without the bite of adrenaline but with an aching tenderness that stripped him of some necessary safety equipment and sent him freefalling.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but the path where they were standing was too narrow, so he propped himself up on the rock again and leaned close, letting her hands glide over him.

‘Achtung Stein! Attenzione!’

Hearing the shout from above, Andreas reacted in a heartbeat, tugging Sophie away from the bottom of the via ferrata as a shower of rocks clattered down. They weren’t sizeable or dangerous, but the climber above had done the responsible thing and shouted the usual warnings in German and Italian.

When the danger had passed, he found Sophie watching, trying to stifle a smile. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing they dislodged some rocks,’ she whispered, ‘otherwise they might have got a surprise when they reached the bottom.’

He could hear the other climbers scuffling down quickly. ‘They can still go to hell for interrupting,’ he grumbled in response. He settled his helmet against hers and breathed out deeply. ‘I don’t care who sees us.’

‘We have a whole apartment back in Marniga, Andreas,’ she said with a smile. ‘We don’t need to make out on the via ferrata.’

His gaze snapped to hers, amused, hopeful, slightly wary. He pressed one last, heavy kiss to her mouth. ‘Are you serious? You want to do this again back at the apartment? What about?—?’

‘I’m not going to ask you to marry me afterward,’ she said drily.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ he protested. ‘But what happens when we leave here?’

‘I’m not the fangirl I was back then. I understand you don’t want commitment and for a week in Italy, I can forget that I do. For one week.’

Andreas tried to ignore the way his stomach dropped at her words, the way memories from the day everything had gone wrong shivered through him again.

The first climber from the other group took the last few footholds down, unclipping her carabiners. Andreas pulled Sophie to the side of the path, his arm around her waist –where it belonged, some forlorn part of him added. Three climbers squeezed past with casual greetings in two languages, which he acknowledged absently in German.

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ he asked softly.

Her brow quirked. ‘Are you?’

‘How quickly can we get back to the apartment?’

17

Andreas fumbled with the keys when they raced up the steps to the apartment door later in the afternoon. Sophie laughed at him and he shot her a wry grin in return. When he finally got the door open, he drew her inside with firm hands around her waist and kicked the door shut behind them.

Without another word, he was kissing her.

While Sophie was certain this had been the plan – her idea even – she hadn’t expected measured, practical Andreas to immediately fall on her like a starving man. But starving he appeared to be. His hands on her face, he pressed his mouth to hers, quickly deepening the kiss as his fingers speared through her knotted hair.

It was rough, desperate and the hottest kiss of her life.

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