Page 34 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
His gaze dipped, roaming her face from under his lashes. ‘Mmm?’
His voice should have come with a warning label: Do not listen unless you wish your heart to leap out of your chest. Her thoughts were well ahead of her actions, wondering how it would feel to kiss him, if it would be above average because it had been a while for her or because he trained his lips as part of his job. The above average part was not in question, despite the fact that he was clueless in the snow, as bright as the bloody sun and probably still hung up on his ex.
Her phone peeped, making him jump. The half a second of distraction was enough time for Kira to tear herself away. She tugged the device out of her pocket to find a message from Ginny:
Well that didn’t work out as planned.
Ginny had no idea.
Kira’s skin felt tight and jitters tempted her hands as she washed them and then packed up the first aid kit. She didn’t want to think about what had just happened – or nearly happened – but her mind wouldn’t stop replaying the firm pressure of his fingers on her face. Falling into bed with someone, scratching an itch, would be unwise in the circumstances, but understandable. Touching her face, a prelude to a kiss that wouldn’t go anywhere, however…
The sensation of being out of control, at the mercy of her own feelings, shook her. She had to see Christian again in a few days. She had to prove – if only to herself – that she wasn’t the fool she’d been twelve years ago. It wasn’t a great time to discover she could still be susceptible to these idiotic flutters.
Part of her still wished he’d kissed her.
Angry with herself for succumbing to weakness – if only in her own head – she wrenched her rucksack closed and stomped for the exit.
‘Kira!’
She heard the curiosity in his voice and ignored it.
The queue for the second gondola was mercifully short and she hoped he’d let the subject drop by the time they’d got through the turnstiles and into the cabin, but as soon as he settled next to her on the leather bench seat, he said, ‘I’m sorry if I did something wrong.’
‘It was just a scratch. No harm done. Next time, choose a low-hanging icicle,’ she insisted, purposefully misunderstanding.
‘I wasn’t talking about the icicle.’
Goosebumps raced up her arms.
‘I am glad it’s you who stayed back to babysit me.’
That was too much. ‘You know what? You shouldn’t be glad. Alessandra wanted to give you and Carla a moment alone. You have unfinished business with her.’ She tugged off her beanie and ran a hand through her hair.
‘I told you what happened with Carla.’
The cable whisked the gondola up at sudden speed and Mattia cut himself off with a startled choke, falling back against the seat. His shoulder pressed into hers; it was no touch at all, but Kira felt it in the whoosh of her stomach.
‘You told me you regretted how it ended. Looks like she’s keen for a do-over.’
He was so close to her, she heard the deep, disgruntled noise in his throat at her comment. ‘That doesn’t mean I can just go back.’
‘Urgh, you said you were afraid you’d missed out on something amazing! Here’s your chance.’
Tension was rolling off his tall frame as he leaned his head back against the Plexiglas. ‘Why do you want me to give Carla another chance?’ he asked, his tone strained.
‘Alessandra wants romance at her wedding.’
The honey and citrus scent of him reached her nose. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
‘I asked why you want me to give Carla a chance?’
She froze, her gaze fixed on his face as he stared blankly past her. She did want him to get back together with Carla so she could forget all of the ways he imposed on her emotions – and she vehemently didn’t.
‘You want a partner – commitment, love.’ She flapped a hand dismissively. He wanted all those things that had given her hives for… oh, about as long as it had been since she’d last seen Christian. ‘You thought you’d found all that with her. Why not try to fix it?’
‘Because I don’t think she’s the right person for me after all,’ he said, sounding far more rational than he should have, making a pronouncement like that.
‘People aren’t “right” and “wrong”,’ she insisted, tearing her gaze away from him. If that were true, then she was always ‘wrong’.
