boyfriend material. He‘s impulse- driven. It‘s what makes him brilliant on the mountains, but I don‘t want to be tonight‘s impulse. Tonight‘s impulse is tomorrow‘s ‚that Scottish girl I shagged‘.
I‘m smarter than that.
‘But, being serious, I can‘t …’ I break off. It actually pains me to say it, especially as unsatiated desire has me reeling.
‘Can‘t do this ever or can‘t do this tonight?’ Seb quirks a dark eyebrow.
‘Can‘t do this tonight.’ I bite my lip as I step out of reach. My body screams that I‘m crazy. Who cares if he wants to use me and forget me the next morning? Seb would be mine for one glorious night.
But I do care and I can‘t do this. I‘d despise myself afterwards for selling out for a few hours of pleasure.
‘You are a very unusual girl, Lucy Lu.’ Seb looks regretful but not annoyed, thank God. Any sense of irritation and I would‘ve walked away. Permanently. ‘Anyone else and I‘d think you were playing hard to get but you‘re serious, aren‘t you?’
‘I don‘t play games.’ I make my way to the terrace steps, but each step away from Seb is a wrench.
‘So, when can we make love, Lucy Lu?’ Seb asks, a lot louder than I‘m comfortable with.
I turn around to check the terrace is still clear and no one I know is listening. Then I turn back to face him.
‘When I believe this is for real,’ I smile regretfully, and make my way down the steps. When I look back, Seb salutes me and blows me a kiss.
‘See you soon, Lucy Lu,’ he grins. ‘I feel it‘s only fair to warn you I plan to have a truly filthy dream about you tonight.’
I laugh as I walk away. I should go and find Tash or the others. It‘s rude to head off without saying goodbye to Sophie, but if I stay at the party any longer I‘m scared I‘ll cave in and end up going home with Seb.
I barely notice the cold night air as I walk back to Chalet Repos. My skin is still flushed and warm, a heat that intensifies when I remember Seb‘s hands caressing me and how good it felt to kiss him.
He won‘t be the only one having a filthy dream tonight.
Oh crap, I‘m in serious trouble.
From: [email protected]
Re: MIA
Hello daughter. Could you drop your mother a quick line?
The thing is, if you don‘t reply soon, I won‘t be able to stop her reporting you missing again. We all know how embarrassing that was the last time!
So please email, unless you fancy a visit from Interpol.
Bye for now,
Dad
From: [email protected]
Re: Wedding Plans (1 attachment)
Sophie darling, it was lovely to hear from you finally. It‘s good to know we don‘t have to send a search-and-rescue team out to Switzerland to find you after all. Ha ha.
However, I really can‘t agree there‘s ‚no rush to decide things‘. If we don‘t take the May slot at The Lodge I honestly don‘t think we‘ll be able to get in anywhere half decent.
Also, and you won‘t like me saying it, but you‘re not getting any younger. The trend may well be for women to have their babies later these days but the risks are so much greater the longer you leave it.
It might be old-fashioned of me, but I think it would be best if you marry before you get pregnant. You agree, don‘t you, darling? I know how much you want to be a mother. You always did love babies, even when you were a little girl. Do you remember when you were asked what you wanted to be when you grew up you said you wanted to be a mum?
I‘ve attached an article from the Daily Mail with all the statistics about the risks for older mothers. I hope that will persuade you of the wisdom of getting on with things quickly.
Let us know if you want to reserve the May slot at The Lodge after all. It might not be too late to change your mind and it does have such lovely lakeshore gardens. Wouldn’t they make a fantastic backdrop for the wedding photos?
Love,
Mum
SOPHIE
The Lodge Hotel, the Lake District and Mum all seem a million miles away as Luc negotiates the hairpin bends leading to his parents‘ mountain village. I wish I could pack up all my problems and ship them back to England.
Luc is gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are as white as the virgin snow blanketing the jagged peaks of the Alps. Other than that, and a tension around his jawline, there‘s no outward sign he‘s affected by the dreadful news we received this week.
The news I‘m still reeling from.
I hug myself and stare fixedly at the view. Normally the combination of the picturesque scenery of the country I‘ve adopted and being with Luc would lift my spirits but a black cloud has been trailing us since we left Verbier.
I don‘t know how to fix this. Or even if it can be fixed. By the time we reach Vex and Luc parks the car I‘m grinding my teeth. I do my best to unclench my jaw and breathe.
We‘ve agreed not to tell his parents, there‘s no point until we know for sure there‘s nothing that can be done. I want to go along with it, to help protect his parents from unnecessary worry. Especially given they‘ve got their own stress to deal with. The problem is, I can‘t remember how to be normal. I‘m rigid, wired for fight or flight. But there‘s no one to punch and no matter how far we run our problems would just come with us.
Luc guides me by the elbow across Vex‘s main square to the Café du Place. It‘s a gesture he means to be comforting but it makes me jittery. His awareness I‘m struggling only highlights my awkwardness and makes the painful emotions harder to suppress.
Today was going to be difficult enough already, but now I have more than one minefield to navigate.
‘Sophie, ma chère.’ Thérèse, my future mother in law, greets me with an enthusiastic double kiss as soon as we‘ve pushed our way through the café‘s heavy swing doors.
‘Bonjour.’ I attempt my ‚everything‘s just fabulous‘ smile, but my face feels tight and strange.
It‘s only as I lean in to kiss Luc‘s dad that I see Thérèse is wearing a similar strained smile.
Oh crap.
We‘re
