his skin was olive. His T-shirt hugged his chest and abdominals and was tucked into a pair of red ski pants that had some official-looking emblem on them, but she couldn’t make out what it said in the dim lighting of the bar.
‘You bet.’ He spoke in the same laid-back, friendly manner that Amy’s friends used. Unhurried, relaxed. She’d have to get used to the Aussie way of speaking.
He paid for their order but made no move to pick up his drinks and leave the bar.
‘Hey, Reeves, a man is not a camel!’
Charli saw him turn his head at the comment. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw a group of men, all wearing the same navy and red uniform, standing around a tall round table. ‘Are they talking to you?’ she asked.
‘Afraid so.’
‘I’d better let you go,’ she said, hoping he’d say he’d stay. ‘Thank you for your help.’
‘It was my pleasure…’ He paused and she knew he was waiting for her name.
‘Charli.’
‘Charli,’ he repeated. She liked the way it sounded when he said it. ‘Maybe I’ll see you around.’
She hoped so, she thought as she took the jug of beer and her lemonade back to the booth, sliding in next to her sister.
‘Who was that?’ Amy asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, realising belatedly that she had no idea. She had a name but no idea if it was his first or last.
‘I bet he could take your mind off your troubles for the next few days,’ her sister added.
Charli smiled but shook her head. She’d decided she was a terrible judge of character but even she could tell he had trouble written all over him. He was cute and confident and his smile had made her knees wobble, but she suspected he had that effect on a lot of women and she wasn’t about to let him add her to his list. ‘I’m not looking for someone from ski patrol to take my mind off things.’
‘You should be, he was hot. But he’s not ski patrol, their uniform is red and white, not red and navy.’
‘Do you know what he does?’ She should have got more information, she thought, even as she tried to tell herself she wasn’t interested. The last thing she needed was a rebound fling with a hot stranger. But she couldn’t deny he’d caught her attention.
Amy shook her head before she was dragged back into conversation with one of the other ski instructors, a handsome, blond Canadian. It looked as though Amy might get her own distraction tonight.
Charli scanned the room but she couldn’t see the cute guy or his friends from where she sat, and she wasn’t about to go looking for him. She needed to clear her head, not complicate it, but if she had been looking she suspected he was just the type she would have fallen for. It would be safer if she just took herself back to Amy’s apartment and got a decent night’s sleep. Tomorrow was another day.
She leant over to Amy. ‘I think I might call it a night,’ she said as she picked up her jacket.
‘Really?’
‘I’m tired.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Amy said as she started to stand.
‘No, no, don’t leave on my account.’
But Amy was already up and had tucked her arm through Charli’s elbow. ‘You’ve come all this way to see me, Canadian Dan will understand.’ She smiled and raised an eyebrow. ‘Unless you’re going to find that hot guy and don’t want me cramping your style?’
Charli shook her head. ‘No, I’m going home to bed, alone. I’m tired of being disappointed by men, I’d rather just go to bed with my fantasies than find out that the reality isn’t what I hoped for.’
‘Oh, Charli.’ Amy sighed as she hugged her younger sister close. ‘I know Hugo hurt you but not all men are bastards.’
‘Maybe not, but I’m not game to find out tonight.’
‘Well, let me know if you change your mind. There are plenty of cute guys here who will happily let you try out your fantasies on them.’
Charli laughed. ‘Seriously, I’m fine. I’ll go and tuck myself into bed and I’ll see you in the morning.’ She kissed her sister’s cheek and gently pushed her back into her seat. ‘There’s no need for both of us to have an early night. Stay, have fun.’
She’d meant it when she’d said she wasn’t looking for a man to take her mind off things but, even so, she couldn’t resist one last glance around the bar on her way out.
He was still there.
He was leaning against the wall, surrounded by his mates, but he was watching her. Her heart skittered as his eyes locked onto hers. He straightened up and her step faltered as he put his glass on the table and moved towards her. Somehow she managed to keep walking but her eyes didn’t leave his. He weaved through the crowd, his path at an angle to hers, and she knew he would reach her before she got to the door.
He waited for her and she stopped beside him, her feet deciding her course of action for her.
‘Are you leaving?’ His voice was calm and his dark eyes held her gaze, making her feel as though he could see into the depths of her soul.
She nodded.
‘Will you stay and have a drink with me?’
Should she? She wanted to but she really didn’t trust herself to make good decisions. Even when she wasn’t jet-lagged, she made terrible ones. ‘I don’t even know your name.’ She stalled for time.
‘It’s Patrick. Patrick Reeves.’
He continued to watch her closely and the rest of the crowd faded into insignificance as she hugged the sound of his name to herself. It was a nice name and he had an even nicer face and a fabulous smile. She was tempted, very tempted, but she was also exhausted. ‘I don’t think I’ll be very good company,’ she said, barely able to string two words together, although whether that was the effect of jet-lag or Patrick’s intense gaze she wasn’t sure.
‘May I walk you home, then?’
She hesitated, but only briefly. She knew she’d regret it if she walked out alone. She nodded. Decision made. ‘I’d like that.’
He held her jacket for her, helping her into it. ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked as they left the bar and he shrugged into his insulated jacket.
‘At Snowgum Chalet, with my sister.’ Her boots slipped on the icy path and Patrick reached out to steady her, wrapping an arm around her waist, catching her before she could fall. He lifted her slightly, settling her back on her feet.
‘Thank you.’ He still had his arm around her and her tongue felt too big in her mouth, making her stumble over the words. ‘I seem to have trouble keeping my feet around you.’
* * *
He
