Page 6 of Girl in the Snow
“Welcome to Winterbourne Lodge, Miss Michaelson.Or should I say, welcome back.”
Deanna stopped just inside the large wooden door in the foyer.She took off her coat, stuffing her gloves and hat in the pockets, glad to be rid of some of the layers of padding that made her feel like a polar bear.
She hung her coat on the wall hooks inside the entrance and then watched Cal remove his heavy coat and gloves.His back was turned, giving her the opportunity to ogle him properly.Such broad shoulders.How did he get shoulders like that?Did he chop wood all day?Or wrestle bears, for real?It was a mystery, but she’d like to unravel it.
When Cal faced her again, she was pretty sure he caught her checking him out.Her eyeballs had been frankly, quite busy with a thorough perusal of his nicely rounded butt.
Now he raised one eyebrow in a question, as if to ask:Can I help you, ma’am?
Deanna was too embarrassed to list the things she’d like him to help her with, even in her head.There were many.A heated ache spread deep in her belly, the kind it was difficult to deny.Suffice to say, it had been a while since she’d had anyoneogle-ablein her near vicinity.Let alone touchable.
She couldn’t help but notice Cal’s finer points.His chest was nicely defined in a soft-looking, emerald green cashmere sweater.Helooked touchable.Deanna’s face heated as she imagined peeling that sweater off him, maybe by the fire.Pressing herself against him.He’d be hard where she was soft, demanding while she’d be agreeable.She didn’t mind being bossed around in certain circumstances.
He was so delightfully grumpy, she wanted to surprise another laugh out of him.Deanna suspected he might soften when she got him going with some well-placed kisses.Maybe she'd take a love bite out of the meaty part of one of his shoulders.
Then her stomach rumbled, on cue.Possibly she was just hungry, not turning into a ravenous werewolf girl.She placed a hand on her stomach over her cardigan and then glanced up to meet Cal’s amused expression.
Really, they were micro-expressions, flashes of insight that allowed her to see through his serious mask.She was learning to read his tells.
“Hungry?”
Deanna laughed, a high-pitched sound that rang out in the quiet room.“Oh my god, how could you tell?”She grinned up at him, until a muscle twitched in his jaw.
“Right.Come and sit down near the fire and I’ll get us some sandwiches or something.Staff’s off for Christmas, I’m afraid.”
That confirmed her earlier concern.They were all alone, together, at the lodge.No-one around for miles, probably.If you wanted some peace and quiet it was perfect.But in an emergency, it could be a problem.
Cal left through a door to a hidden area leading to the kitchen, she guessed.
Deanna crossed to the middle of the large space, as the lodge’s open plan layout had a communal lounge area downstairs for guests, right near the feature, oversized fireplace.It was roaring now, orange flames dominating the entire room.She glanced around, matching the place she remembered from childhood with the actual room in the present.
The ceiling was double height, and thick wooden beams soared overhead, reminding her of old churches she’d visited in Italy.Everything was warm, wood-clad and rustic, in a way that wasn’t kitschy but made her feel at home.Whoever had decorated had used more modern soft furnishings in reds and oranges.Deanna approved.
The large rust-toned velvet sectional sofa called her name, so she found herself the prime position in one corner and stretched out her legs in front of her.She grabbed a knitted, cream wool throw blanket from the back of the sofa and spread it across her lap, enjoying the feeling of tucking herself in, snug and warm.This was why she’d come here.To feel cosy.Safe.
Deanna stared into the fire.The flames leapt and danced, copper and gold, then a touch of blue at the base of the hearth.The heat warmed her skin even from across the room.She touched her cheeks and found them warm, in contrast to how chilled she’d been a short time ago.
Then a clatter alerted her to Cal coming back through the door, backing his way into the room while carrying three plates at once.One was tipping precariously until he caught it.He didn’t seem to be an experienced server.
“Do you need a hand?”
He awkwardly pushed the door open with one shoulder as he made his way through.“I probably need three hands, but you stay there.”
In a moment he set down the plates on the low coffee table in front of her.There were layered sandwiches with a variety of fillings.Ham, chicken, cheese, and lettuce were poking out, and there was a separate plate of slices of iced chocolate cake.
Deanna sighed, mainly in gratitude.“Oh, this looks good.I really am starving.I haven’t eaten since the plane from London.That was…I don’t know when.Hours and hours ago.”
Cal stood in front of them, scratching his stubble-covered jaw for a second.“Please, help yourself.Wait, I forgot our drinks.I could grab a glass of wine, or something stronger?”
Deanna nodded, even as she stuffed a ham and pickle sandwich in her mouth.
He strode across to a liquor cabinet against one wall.“Whiskey, vodka, or red wine.What do you prefer?”
“Oh, wine please.There’s something about red wine by a fire… It just seems like Christmas.”
Cal fussed with getting wine glasses down from a shelf, uncorking a bottle of what looked like vintage wine, before turning to her.“Isn’t it hot in Australia at Christmas?You wouldn’t drink red wine or have a fire, surely?”
“True.But it’s been years since I had an Aussie Christmas.I mostly visited my mum in London or some friends in New York.But at my aunt’s back in Sydney, it was always cold ham and prawns, salads and champagne.Swimming in the pool after lunch.”
