It wasn’t as bad when his father was at home. Then he just had to listen to the noise. The drinking, the laughing, the noisy lovemaking. But his father was so seldom home.
He didn’t know what was worse. The way he had dreaded the creak of the door when his stepmother came in to ‘check on him’—or the way he had anticipated it. The musky smell of her shampoo. The way the bed dipped where she sat. The cool caress on his cheek. Her whisper. ‘Alex, are you awake?’
And so he had practised his breathing, kept his eyes lightly closed and pretended that he wasn’t. He didn’t think he ever had her fooled. And in the end she stopped asking if he was awake. Stopped waiting for permission.
In the end he had stopped pretending.
No. He rolled over, the narrow sofa uncomfortable beneath his hip. No. He mustn’t think of his stepmother and Flora in the same way, at the same time. They were nothing alike. He couldn’t, wouldn’t taint Flora with that association. She was better than that. Better than him.
Far too good for him. He had always known that.
And that was why he had to step away. Just as he had all those years ago. He’d broken up his childhood home with his out-of-control desires. He’d been so lucky that Flora’s family had stepped in and offered him a second home, an infinitely better home. He couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t let desire infiltrate that space. No matter what.
He opened one eye, relieved to see the room turning grey with the pre-dawn light. Slowly, stealthily he slid off the sofa, wincing as he straightened his legs; he felt like the princess must have after her night sleeping on a pea—if her bed had also been too narrow to allow her to turn and a good foot too short. He tiptoed to the door and slid it open. He could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief from Flora as the door slipped shut behind him.
He needed a run. He needed a swim. And most of all he needed a very long and very cold shower while he figured out just how he was going to survive the rest of the week.
* * *
‘I hope you slept well?’ Camilla smiled in welcome when Alex walked into the dining hall two hours later. Darn, he had hoped to have more time to gather his thoughts but it was too late. They were on. Time to be convincing.
‘Like a baby,’ he lied, searching for a subject that didn’t involve sleep, Flora or the suite they were now sharing. ‘Look at the morning light in here. It’s spectacular.’
‘It should be. You designed it that way.’
‘That’s true, I did.’ And he had. But it was always an unexpected joy to see his dreams made real.
The hotel was on the western slopes facing Innsbruck and so the huge windows were always most effective in the evening when the sun hung low in the evening sky and began to set. To counter this and to ensure the dining room didn’t feel too dark during the day, Alex had designed it as a glassed-in roof terrace with dramatic skylights positioned to capture as much morning sun as possible. Balconies ran around the entire room so summer visitors could enjoy the warm Alpine sun as they ate.
Like the rest of the hotel the floor was a warm, golden oak, the same wood as the tables and chairs and the long counters that ran along one side. Guests could help themselves to juice, fruit and a continental breakfast; discreetly hovering staff were there to take orders for hot breakfasts. There was no menu; the kitchen was prepared for most requests.
Alex strolled over to the counter and poured himself some orange juice before spooning fresh berries into a bowl. ‘Coffee, please.’ He smiled at the hovering waitress. ‘And scrambled eggs, on rye bread. That’s all, thanks.’
He took his fruit and drink over to the square table where Camilla sat, basking in the sunlight like a cat. Her plate was bare and she had a single espresso set in front of her. In the two years they had worked together Alex had never seen her eat. He suspected she ran off caffeine, wine and, possibly, the blood of young virgins.
Camilla took a dainty sip of her espresso. ‘I think I made the right call on the mattresses. I know they were expensive, but a hotel like this needs the best, hmm?’
Alex nodded, wishing he had had the opportunity to sample the mattress himself. ‘Of course. Your guests wouldn’t settle for anything less.’
Camilla eyed him shrewdly. ‘A hotel tracksuit? Very good of you to live the brand, Alex.’
He speared a blueberry on a fork. ‘Early morning workout. I didn’t want to wake Flora. Good idea to have them where anyone could borrow them. I wonder how many people will slip one into their suitcase?’
She shrugged dismissively. ‘Let them. They pay enough—and it’s all good branding.’ She looked over at the door. ‘Good morning, Miss Buckingham.’
‘Good morning.’ Flora wandered over to the table, a glass of juice in her hand. Alex gave her a quick critical look. She had on more make-up than usual, as if she was trying to conceal the dark shadows under her eyes. It might fool anyone who didn’t know her. It didn’t fool him for a second.
Had she been pretending to sleep as well?
A little belatedly Alex remembered his role as adoring lover and got to his feet to give her a brief peck on the cheek. He closed his eyes for a brief second as her warm, comforting scent enfolded him. ‘Morning.’
Her eyes flew to his. He couldn’t read her expression at all. He expected anger, discomfort maybe. Instead all he saw was determination.
Interesting—and very unexpected. She looked different too. Her dark hair pulled back into a loose bun, the dark green tunic belted over her jeans not left to hang shapelessly. She’d accessorised the whole with a chunky silver bead necklace and earrings. She looked smarter, more together.
And, yep, she looked determined. For what he wasn’t entirely sure.
‘I need to go into Innsbruck this morning,’ Flora said after giving her breakfast order to the waitress. Alex’s coffee arrived as she did so and he gratefully poured a cup of the delicious, dark, caffeinated nectar, offering it to Flora before pouring his own.
It was all very domesticated.
‘I only brought work clothes. I didn’t realise that I would be participating in the week’s activities.’ She smiled over at Alex. ‘Apparently I won’t be able to avoid learning to ski any longer although I’m sure I’d be far more useful concentrating on all the lovely après-ski activities.’
Camilla drained her cup. ‘I think learning to ski is an excellent idea. You really should look at the hotel’s ski lodges. I’d be interested to hear what you think of the materials and colours. They’re accessible by ski lift but the only way back down the mountain is on the slopes.’
Flora grimaced. ‘I can’t wait to see them but I have to admit I’m a little nervous about the whole “two bits of plastic on snow” part. I can ice skate but other than that my balance is decidedly wonky. But hey, carpe diem and all that. It’s good to try new things.’
Alex looked up. What was going on with her? Something was definitely different. Her tone, the way she was dressed. Did this have anything to do with yesterday? Their disagreement—or what happened later?
He should step back. This was what he wanted for her, right? For Flora to be more confident, to start living. And he could do with his space too. To make sure he cleared any lingering sentiments from that darned kiss from his system so they could go back to being easy with each other.
He looked out of the window. It was a glorious day, the sun already high in the blue winter’s sky, lighting up the snowy peaks in brilliant colour. He should stay in and work—but the contrast