he’d been carrying. ‘What happened next?’
‘By the end of the summer she had stopped being cautious. I didn’t want... It was one thing at night, with the lights out—that was more like a dream, you know? As if it wasn’t real. I would be back at school soon and the whole thing would just disappear. But Christa didn’t want that. She started to try and kiss me in the house, run her hand over my shoulder in front of people. She wanted to make love in the pool, in the kitchen. The more I tried to pull away, the more determined she became. I was just a pet, her toy. She didn’t want me to have any say in where or when or what. She was in control. And she was out of control. It was inevitable, I guess, that we’d be found out. My dad came home early one day and caught us.’
‘He blamed you.’ It wasn’t a question. She’d seen the aftermath. Alex, white-faced, all his worldly possessions in one bag, determined to make his own way in the world.
‘He told me I tainted everything I touched.’
‘That’s not true,’ but he was shaking his head even as she protested.
‘My mother died because she couldn’t love me. My father hates me. My stepmother...there’s something rotten at the heart of me, Flora.’
‘No. No, there isn’t.’ She was on her knees and holding onto him. ‘I love you, my parents adore you, for goodness’ sake even Minerva loves you, in her own way. There is a darkness in your family but it’s not you. It was never you.’
But she wasn’t getting through; his voice was bleak, his face as blank as if it were carved out of marble. ‘I saw you look at me, back then, so hopeful. As if you were expecting something more. But I had nothing to give. Christa took it all, like some succubus, taking another piece of my soul every time we had sex. All those girls at the ice rink, and the girls I date now. I felt nothing. I am incapable of feeling anything real. That’s why I warned you to steer clear of me, Flora. There’s nothing real inside me.’
She kissed him, his eyes, his cheeks, the strong line of his jaw, tasting the salt of her tears mingled with the salt on his skin. ‘You are real,’ she whispered as she pressed her mouth to his cold lips. ‘I know you are.’
He didn’t respond for a long moment and then, with an anguished cry, he kissed her back; hard, feverish kisses as if he were drowning and she the air. Flora held on and let him hold on in return. She didn’t know who was saving who. And she wasn’t sure that it mattered.
* * *
Alex knew the exact moment Flora woke up. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, but he knew. He had kept watch over her through the night. A lone knight guarding his lady. Her breathing, so slow and steady, quickened. Her body tensed. Was she wondering what would happen in the harsh light of day? What reality would mean after the passions, the confidences, the outpourings of the night before.
He wondered that too. He knew what had to be done but how he wished things were different. That he were different. ‘Lukewarm left-over champagne or coffee?’
‘Hmm?’ She sat up unsteadily, brushing the long tangled curls from her face and scrubbing her eyes like a small girl, her eyes widening as she looked at him. Was she surprised that he was out of bed? That he was already dressed in jogging bottoms and his own top, showered, shaved and ready to go. ‘You’re not serious about the champagne?’
‘It seems a shame to throw it away,’ he teased, deliberately keeping his tone light. ‘No. If it was chilled then that would be a whole different matter. There’s eggs. We could make breakfast or would you rather have some back at the hotel? There’s time. I texted your instructor to arrange a later meeting time.’
‘A later time?’ She sank back down onto her pillows dramatically. ‘I was planning to spend all day in the spa today. I have barely slept...’ She stopped, her cheeks pinkening in an interesting way. He wondered just how far down her blush crept—and then pulled his mind resolutely back to the matter at hand.
‘Don’t forget you have to get down the mountain first,’ Alex said helpfully and was rewarded with a glare.
‘Can’t we just stay here for ever?’ There was a plaintive note in her voice. He knew with utter certainty that it wasn’t just the skiing she was thinking about. It was the aftermath. Of course she was.
His chest squeezed in sudden longing. Stay here for ever. Just Flora and Alex and a large bed and a supply of champagne. No facing the real world, no dealing with any situation. He inhaled long and deep, pushing the enticing vision away. ‘What would we do when the food ran out? Hunt squirrels and roast them on the stove?’
‘Not much meat on a squirrel.’
‘Then we’d better return to real life. Sorry, Flora.’
She put out her hand. Part of him wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen it, the other part was drawn to her, could no more walk away than he could stop breathing. He paced himself as he walked towards the bed, slow, unhurried steps, seating himself on the edge, deliberately not touching her.
‘So, we pretend this hasn’t happened.’ She made it sound like a statement but he knew she needed an answer. Was she hoping he’d change his mind?
‘That’s best, isn’t it? No need to complicate things further.’ All he had to do was reach across, across just a few centimetres of rumpled white sheet. But it might as well have been metres, miles, oceans. Would she see a casual touch as encouragement? As a declaration?
Would he mean it as such?
He couldn’t. He mustn’t. If he allowed the slight torch she had always carried for him to blaze into brightness then all would be lost. He didn’t know which would be worse—if it flickered and died when she discovered how hollow he really was for herself. Or if it continued to flame until he did something stupid, something unconscionable and broke her heart.
And he would.
His father’s voice echoed through his mind. Mocking him. You taint everything you touch. Nobody could care for you. You disgust me.
He couldn’t cope if he lost Flora.
She touched his arm, a small caress. ‘What are you thinking?’ Ah, the million-dollar question and one he had always hated. He never got the answer right.
But he was compelled to tell the truth. ‘I don’t want you to hate me.’
She rounded on him, eyes blazing. ‘I could never hate you. Why? Because of last night? You were very clear it was a one-night deal and I understood that. Don’t make this into some kind of melodrama. It was just sex.’
But her eyes fluttered as she said the words and she couldn’t look him in the eye.
‘Good sex,’ she amended. ‘But, you know, I’m not planning to join a nunnery because there won’t be a repeat.’
Alex didn’t feel quite as comforted by her words as he should have done. This was the result he wanted, wasn’t it? There was a little part of him that had always wondered what if about Flora Buckingham and, sure, he had pointed out last night that a teen grand affair was bound to crash and burn, but still. He had wondered.
Now he knew. And even better she had no expectations beyond a cup of coffee and that he guide her safely to the bottom of the ski slope. By the time
