he’s staying right here at the complex,’ his wife snapped.
‘Then ask the manager who he is,’ Joanna’s father dismissed.
‘I will not!’ her mother said indignantly.
Joanna left before she could hear her mother’s outraged reply, knowing she wouldn’t stand for her husband’s uninterested attitude towards the stranger any longer. Well, Joanna had decided that today he was going to stop being a stranger to her!
She took her skis and boots up to Mount Norquay as usual, her mother insisting that she couldn’t possibly use the rental gear available, that she must have all her own equipment, even though the whole thing had cost a complete fortune. But money had never bothered her parents, and Joanna had grown up knowing she could have anything she wanted. And now she wanted a tall dark stranger with enigmatic grey eyes that could be silver with amusement and like a storm-tossed sea in anger. She had seen the latter once when one of the young skiers came hurtling down the slope so fast he had lost control and almost ploughed down a young child in his way, only just managing to avoid her at the last moment by falling down. The man with the storm-tossed eyes had verbally ripped into the teenager, the young boy’s ears burning red at the justification of the reprimand.
But today Joanna was determined the eyes should be silver, with laughter, for her. She had never been denied anything before, and she had never waited so long for anything before either.
She could hardly believe her luck when she reached the ski area and saw the man was also in the locker-room putting on his boots. And they were completely alone. It was all turning out so beautifully!
She saw him glance over at her, but his interest wasn’t held in any way as he once again concentrated on his task. She would make him notice her! And luckily she had just the way.
‘Oh damn,’ she muttered loudly as she put on her own boots. ‘Now what am I going to do?’ She spoke as if to herself, but made sure she was loud enough to be heard by the man. She could see him moving towards her out of the corner of her eye, and was amazed at how easily he could move in the restrictive boots, always feeling ungainly in them herself until she had her skis on. But he suffered no such inhibitions, he moved easily and smoothly. Joanna looked up as if surprised to see him there. ‘Oh, hello, I thought I was alone,’ she smiled at him warmly.
He didn’t smile back. ‘Anything I can do to help?’ His voice was deep and husky, and as her mother had said, he was English.
She straightened, overwhelmed by the sexual magnetism of him now that she was this close to him, realising that he was older than she had thought, must be in his early thirties at least, that he smelt of tangy cologne and sandalwood soap. ‘I—–’ she wet her lips nervously. ‘One of the straps on my boot has broken. Do you happen to have a spare?’ She ignored the spare straps that were burning a hole in the side of her carryall.
‘I think so, yes,’ he nodded, going back to his own bag and coming back with a blue strap. ‘Will this do?’ He held it out to her.
‘I’m sure it will,’ she confirmed huskily. ‘Would you mind putting it on for me?’
Dark brows rose beneath the blue woollen hat, but he made no demur, bending down to fit the strap easily, clipping the clasp into place. ‘All right?’
‘Er—Could you tighten it a little for me?’ As he bent forward so did she, her long blonde hair softly brushing the hardness of his cheek.
He glanced up at her, his eyes silvery grey. ‘Would you mind…?’ He brushed her hair away.
Joanna sat back, sighing her chagrin, trying another approach. ‘I’ve watched you ski,’ she told him with breathless admiration. ‘You’re very good.’
‘Thank you. Better?’ He sat back on his heels, the blue insolated suit fitting tautly to his muscular body.
She blinked. ‘Better…? Oh—oh yes,’ she blushed, making a show of testing the comfort of the boot. ‘Thank you.’
He nodded and stood up. ‘Then if you’ll excuse me…’
‘Of course.’ Once again she smiled, her eyes almost the colour of violets. ‘And thank you once again, Mr—–?’
‘Radcliffe,’ he drawled. ‘Joshua Radcliffe.’
‘Joanna Proctor,’ she returned invitingly, looking at him beneath lowered lashes.
‘Miss Proctor,’ he acknowledged curtly, and instantly left the locker-room.
So much for getting him to notice her! Oh, he had noticed her, all right, and just as soon dismissed her, she thought indignantly. Well, Joshua Radcliffe was about to find out that she only became all the more determined when something was constantly denied her.
But he seemed equally determined to ignore her, barely acknowledging her cheery greeting and hand-waves if they should ‘happen’ to meet. The day she stopped him to return the strap was the day he couldn’t just walk away from her.
It was lunchtime, and the cafeteria was crowded as Joanna pushed her way through to the vacant seat next to Joshua, hardly able to believe her luck as she glanced round the room. He had almost finished his coffee and sandwich, but she hurried to the seat before he could leave.
‘May I?’ She looked down at him expectantly, knowing the light blue ski suit she wore showed off the slenderness of her figure and deepened the colour of her eyes.
His shrug wasn’t encouraging. ‘I think it’s a question of sit where you can today.’
Not very encouraging at all. And she was very conscious of the other couple sitting at the table as she put her fruit yoghurt and coffee on the table before disposing of the tray, smiling as she sat down next to Joshua Racliffe. ‘I’m glad I ran into you today,’ she told him breathlessly.
Puzzlement flickered briefly in the dark grey eyes, one brow raised in query. ‘You are?’
Her confidence wavered for a moment, although she quickly recovered. ‘Yes. I have a new strap for you.’ She had been walking about with the strap zipped in her pocket for days in the hope that she would be able to use just such an occasion to sit and talk to him.
‘New strap?’ he frowned.
‘Yes, I—–’ The man didn’t even remember her, there was not a flicker of recognition in the stormy depths of his eyes! She reached up a hand to release her hair from the restrictive hat, its honey blondeness cascading down her back. ‘I’m Joanna Proctor, we met in the locker-room the other day,’ she prompted as he still looked puzzled. Well, no one had ever accused her of being defeatist!
‘Ah yes, Miss Proctor.’ His words were obviously spoken out of politeness, still no recognition in his expression.
She didn’t know what to say now, and was glad of the diversion of the other couple leaving to shield her dented ego. Luckily the lunchtime rush was over now, so she had Joshua to herself. But he appeared to be getting ready to leave too, picking up his gloves and ski-goggles.
‘I have a new strap for you here.’ She unzipped her pocket and handed it to him. ‘I bought it in town.’
He made no effort to take it. ‘There was really no
