her to her room. She touched her lips. Having returned with relief to the chalet, Luc had seemed almost eager to hand her over to someone else, while she was still obsessing over the ice crystals outlining his mouth, and the frosting of snow dampening the thick whorls of pitch-black hair escaping his ski hat. Having so recently been familiar with every naked inch of him, she found it strange now to think how awkward she would have felt if she’d reached up to push back his hair. She touched her mouth again, remembering.
As if she could forget.
The heated racks made the boot room a cosy space to strip off outer clothes, but Luc had shown no interest in conversation. Appearing lost in thought, he’d tugged off his gloves and tossed them on a chair. His boots had gone onto the racks, and he’d grunted at her to do the same with hers. Then he’d stilled and turned to look at her.
‘Well done, you,’ he’d murmured, frowning as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d insisted on going with him into the snow.
‘And you,’ she’d said. ‘Thank you…’
Another few long moments had gone by as they had stared into each other’s eyes, and then, enclosing her cheeks in his big, strong hands, Luc had kissed her, but not as Luc the lover, more as a caring friend, which had almost been worse than not being kissed at all.
‘And this will be your room while you’re staying with us, Señorita Winner.’
‘Thank you so much. It’s beautiful,’ she said, jolting back to the present as she realised Maria was waiting for a reaction to a most beautiful suite of rooms.
‘Please do remember what Señor Da Silva told you about the shower,’ Maria cautioned as she opened the door on a fabulous marble-lined bathroom.
‘I won’t forget anything Señor Da Silva said,’ Stacey promised, which was the absolute truth. Memories were almost certainly all she’d have to take away from here.
Climbing out of a deliciously warm scented bath some time later, she swathed herself in towels, and began to pace her room. Like everything else she’d seen in the chalet so far, the guest suite was the last word in luxury. Everything was operated from a central console by the bed. She would expect nothing less of a tech billionaire. Exactly like his expert kisses—kisses that conveyed so much, whether that be kisses of reassurance, or kisses in the height of passion—Luc was a genius. It was as simple as that.
She’d rather have that genius here at her side, celebrating life, than be raising the bed with the flick of a switch, and lowering it again, just because she could. It wasn’t enough to try and stop thinking about Lucas when he occupied every corner of her mind. It was all too easy to picture them both on the bed—intimate, close, loving, kissing. Turning her back on the offending mattress, with its lush dressing of crisp linen sheets and cashmere throws, she wished fervently he could open up enough for her to know if this ache in her heart was futile.
Had she given up?
She stared into the mirror. That wasn’t the question.
This was the question: Was she wasting her time pining for a man who might never reveal himself to anyone?
There’s only one thing for it…
Seduce him?
Honestly, sometimes her reckless inner self came up with some extraordinary ideas.
Why not? that same inner voice demanded. You’ve got the tools, now go to work!
She laughed as she pushed away from the console table beneath the mirror. Seducing Lucas Da Silva would certainly be a first.
Maria was as good as her word and had dropped off a set of sweats for Stacey to wear. Fortunately, they fitted, along with the underwear, which was still in a pack from the store. She took her time going downstairs to join Lucas, as she wanted to have a proper look around. Everything she’d imagined about Lucas Da Silva’s mountaintop eyrie was improved upon. She’d seen a lot of fabulous homes with the team, but nothing close to approaching this. Floodlights were on outside, revealing the smooth carpet of snow with its shadowy mountain peaks beyond. The sky had cleared and the moon was shining brightly, adding to the illumination that revealed a heated outdoor swimming pool with steam rising, and a veranda overlooking the ski slopes where the torchlit procession would take place.
‘Wow,’ she murmured.
‘You approve?’
She swung around. ‘You spying on me?’
Luc’s low growl came from a shady corner of the room. ‘I’m having a drink.’
Now she saw him properly, firelight flickering off the harsh planes of his face as he lounged back in a big, comfortable chair.
‘Come and join me,’ he suggested. ‘Unless you’ve got something better to do?’
She hummed, and then said lightly, ‘You’re in luck. I can’t think of anything better to do right now. Give me enough time, and maybe I will.’
‘Come over here. I’ve got a message for you.’
‘For me?’ She couldn’t resist crossing the room to sit by Lucas anyway. Hadn’t she vowed to bring matters between them to some sort of conclusion?
Padding barefoot over luxurious rugs that made the mellow wooden floor seem even homelier, she couldn’t help but marvel at the easy mix of tech and comfort he’d achieved in this house. In spite of the emotional turmoil raging inside her, there was a good feeling in the building. It was easy to see why Luc loved his mountain retreat. He could relax here.
‘Drink?’ he suggested.
‘Water, please.’ She needed her wits about her.
‘As you wish. I’ll open champagne, if you prefer?’
‘Perhaps after the party, when, hopefully, I’ll have something to celebrate.’
‘Hopefully?’ he probed with a keen look.
‘When we’ll both have something to celebrate,’ she amended in answer to his question. ‘You mentioned a message to pass on to me?’ she prompted.
‘Ah, yes. I spoke to mountain rescue and the team was full of praise for you. They wanted you to know, that’s all.’
‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t pretend that didn’t light a glow inside her. It was always good to be appreciated. ‘I hope you told them why I did it, and how scared I was.’
‘I didn’t need to.’ He shrugged. ‘Only fools don’t feel fear.’
‘If you can’t experience emotion, what do you have?’
‘You’re asking the wrong person,’ Luc assured her.
There was an ironic twist to his mouth as she went to warm her hands in front of the blazing log fire while he fixed their drinks.
‘I love your photographs,’
