Page 19 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
For a seven-hour drive that should only have taken three, the trip passed surprisingly pleasantly – not that Kira would admit that, even to herself. Mattia was an excruciatingly congenial travel companion.
The road narrowed after Mayrhofen and she was now navigating through a white valley, the windscreen wipers on full against continued flurries. Chalets with wooden balconies dotted the meadows to her right and on their left, the mountainside rose steeply, rockfall barriers groaning under the weight of snow.
And her baritone companion was singing along with some Italian crooner, complete with air guitar, as though he were on stage in front of a crowd of adoring fans, his voice in a hundred colours, from lively and smooth to rough and aching. He made people feel things and while Kira didn’t want him to turn his magic onto her, she was a little in awe of it.
Ginny and Sophie and the others from I Do Destinations would probably want to keep him on their books for future events. He could probably make the pettiest jealous ex cry at a wedding.
‘I would applaud, except I think you’d prefer I kept my hands on the wheel,’ she said when the song finished.
‘What did you think? Honestly,’ he asked. She could almost hear him batting his eyelids hopefully at her.
‘I think your calling in life was opera after all. Too many wrong notes on the guitar,’ she joked.
He laughed, a deep sound from his stomach that reminded her of the powerful vibrations of his serious singing voice. ‘I meant of the song. It’s Eros Ramazzotti, a national treasure. Have you heard of him?’
‘I have to admit, there’s only one person I think of when you mention Italian singers.’
‘Ah, yes. The incomparable tenor. You know he couldn’t read music?’
‘Can you?’
‘Of course! I spent years of my life studying music.’
It was about as far as you could get from climbing crags. For a man who smelled like designer cologne, wore a gold chain and silky, patterned shirts that were nicer than anything she owned, and used his powerful, refined voice for a living, he was surprisingly sympathetic.
When the opening synthesiser of the next song filled the van, he grinned at her for long enough that she was forced to meet his gaze. Then the iconic opening chords came in and Kira recognised the song with a stifled smile. Not that it helped. Mattia could tell.
He beat his hands against the dashboard, bobbing his head as though it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing Kira had ever seen.
‘You know this, right?’
‘Of course,’ she mumbled in reply.
‘Can you sing along?’
‘No!’
‘It’s more fun if you do, I promise. Just the chorus!’
‘I’m concentrating on the road,’ she said, jerking her chin at the windscreen.
But she had no hope against his pout. He sang the section just before the chorus and it took some effort for Kira not to join in, although she needed a moment to gather her pride. But her fingertips tapped on the steering wheel.
At the first words of the chorus, he tossed his head and increased the volume of his singing, arms flailing. Kira snorted a laugh, but there was no way she could resist leaning towards him and singing, ‘Woah-oh, livin’ on a prayer!’
With a delighted smile, Mattia turned to her and they sang the rest of the chorus together, her voice rusty and barely in tune – not that that seemed to matter to him. Her chest was light and she laughed at him when he continued singing into a pretend microphone like Jon Bon Jovi in the music video.
‘Key change!’ he announced just before the final chorus and Kira could imagine him turning in a dramatic spin on stage. She was laughing so hard, she almost missed the navigation system telling her to turn left.
‘Whoops!’ She made the sharp turn, skidding slightly, but she resisted applying the brakes and the winter tyres quickly regained traction. Mattia had flung his arms out, bracing himself against the dashboard with his eyes squeezed shut.
‘We’re alive,’ she said drily.
He pried one eye open and released a breath. Then he peered out of the windscreen, ducking forward. ‘Are you sure? This place doesn’t look real.’
Kira followed the instructions Ginny had sent her towards the parking lot, ignoring Mattia and his dramatic gasps while she manoeuvred the van into a narrow space, her lip tucked into her teeth in concentration. When she’d pressed the park brake and sat back in her seat, she asked, ‘What?’
‘Look! At that!’ he said, his voice high.
