of light in his eyes. ‘Hello,’ he said, ‘…Katie.’
‘It’s Katrien,’ she told him. ‘Katrien Cromwell.’
He nodded. ‘Katrien.’ The name left his tongue like a caress, giving the ‘r’ a slight burr so that it sounded exotic and foreign.
‘I saw you yesterday,’ she told him, ‘on the intermediate slope, but you seemed too good to be on that level.’
‘I did a cross-country run yesterday, then made my way down the mountain.’
‘I guess you have a lot of experience.’
Something changed in his eyes. He looked at her, standing there in her pink ski suit, her hair loose about her shoulders since she’d pulled off her hat when she entered the café. ‘Some. How about you?’ he asked.
Katrien wrenched her eyes from his and looked down the slope. ‘I came up here today thinking I might try this run but…I’m not sure I’m quite brave enough.’
‘Is your fiancé with you?’
She had to look back at him then. ‘He wasn’t able to get away. And anyway, he doesn’t ski.’
His mouth tilted up at one corner and he gave a brief nod. ‘I see.’ There was a small silence. ‘If you like, I’ll go down with you.’
‘I wouldn’t like to hold you up. I don’t suppose you want to spend your time nursing along a bunny skier.’
‘You’re no bunny,’ he argued. ‘You looked pretty competent yesterday.’ At her surprised look, he added, ‘I recognise the…outfit.’ He cast a glance over the figure-hugging stretch pants and the fleecy-lined shirt under her open jacket. ‘So…shall we go?’
It was a challenge, pure and simple. He waited for her to make up her mind whether to accept it, or to walk away and return to the less exciting lower slopes.
She stepped onto the snow and retrieved her skis.
The sound of their skis gliding on the slick white surface was like tearing silk. Katrien’s hair streamed behind her, the momentum of her downhill flight dragging it back from her face. She had left the café in such a hurry she’d forgotten to retrieve her woollen hat.
Zachary was a blur of blue and yellow at her peripheral vision, a couple of times swooping away in a half loop, then coming back to stay at her side, moderating his speed to hers.
‘Okay?’ he shouted at her once, and she risked a look at his face, saw his white smile, and smiled back.
‘Okay!’
When they reached the end of the run she fluffed the stop and ended up in a jumbled heap, laughing.
Zachary offered a gloved hand and helped her up. ‘How was it?’
‘Wonderful!’ She brushed snow from her arms and body, and he reached out to flick away flakes of white from her hair.
His hand touched her cheek, and even though he still wore gloves, she felt a tingling awareness that stopped her smile and made her veil her eyes with her lashes. A flash of unease assailed her, and she tried to step away, forgetting she was wearing skis.
She would have toppled again if he hadn’t caught at her arms. ‘Steady.’
‘Thanks.’ She was breathless, not only from the run. ‘And thanks for bringing me down. I might have chickened out otherwise.’
‘I don’t think so.’
She glanced up and into his eyes, uncertain what it was she read there.
Then he looked away up the slope and said, ‘Want to try again?’
Why not? After the thrill of that descent, the thought of returning to the easier slopes seemed very tame. She nodded. ‘Yes. But this time you don’t need to wait for me.’
They shared a T-bar back to the top, holding on and standing side by side while little puffs of their steamy breath mingled in the frosty air.
Zachary waited for her to go first. She was halfway to the bottom when she heard a shout from behind and then two young men, whooping in feigned panic, went flying past, much too close for comfort. A quick look sideways showed her a third, about to cannon into her. She took evasive action and he careered on down the slope, but Katrien lost control and went sliding and skidding to the edge of the run, hitting her head painfully on a hidden rock under the snow and landing in a tangle of skis and poles, one of which went flying from her hand.
‘Katrien!’ Zachary slid to a stop beside her, clicked his boots from his skis with his poles and knelt to grip her shoulder. ‘Are you hurt?’
The white world gradually steadied. ‘Banged my head,’ she said. ‘But nothing’s broken.’
He swore. ‘Bloody fools, they were all over the place. Keep still. Where did you hurt your head?’
She put a hand to a tender, sore lump, and winced.
Zachary swore again. ‘Let me see.’ He bent over her, stripped off his gloves, and gently parted her hair. ‘Mmm. That’s a nasty bump. Are you feeling dizzy at all?’
‘No, not really.’
‘Not really?’ He frowned and shifted his hands to either side of her face, lifting it so he could study her.
‘I mean, it’s gone now. I’m all right.’ Except for the way her heart was hammering away.
Another skier slid to a stop nearby. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Hang on,’ Zachary requested of the man. Turning to her, he said, ‘We can get medicos up here if you might be concussed.’
‘I’m sure I’m not, honestly.’
He studied her again, then nodded to the would-be Samaritan. ‘We’re okay, thanks.’ The man gave them a wave and carried on downhill.
Katrien scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it to the bruise.
‘You should wear a hat,’ he said.
‘I took it off in the café and forgot it.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’ He looked irritated. ‘If I’d known you had one with you I’d have made sure you put it on.’
She’d been afraid he might change his mind about accompanying her if she held him up. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve spoiled your run again.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I have another five days.’
Had he opted for the same cut-rate package that she had taken? ‘I haven’t seen you at the hotel.’
‘I’m staying at a friend’s private lodge.’ He paused. ‘Were you looking for me at the hotel?’
Katrien
