‘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 knew the feeling. She was looking up at him with big blue eyes. His heart missed a beat and he felt like he was falling too. ‘I’ll have to remember to watch out for you on the slopes,’ he said as he took her hand. It was small but fitted perfectly into his grip and he tucked it into his elbow. ‘I have a feeling you could be dangerous.’
‘I’m usually okay on skis,’ she replied, completely missing his meaning, ‘but I am very wobbly today. I’m sure I’ll be all right after a decent sleep. Are you skiing tomorrow?’
He shook his head. ‘Unfortunately not.’
‘Do you work here? I saw your friends were all wearing the same uniform.’
‘Not exactly,’ he said as he changed direction, taking a path to the right that turned past Ironbark Lodge and headed down the hill to Snowgum Chalet. ‘We’re all paramedics, we’ve been doing alpine training exercises here. We’re part of the High Country Special Operations arm.’
‘That sounds exciting. What did you have to do?’
‘Avalanche training, helicopter drops into the back country, abseiling down cliffs, that sort of thing.’
‘Exciting and exhausting.’
He supposed it was both but there was nothing unusual in the hectic pace of his life. Working as a Special Ops paramedic meant his life moved rapidly from one disaster to another and he embraced the pace, especially over the past two years. Being busy meant he didn’t have time to think. Didn’t have time to dwell on things.
‘It’s been challenging,’ he admitted as they reached the front door of her lodge, ‘but it’s exhilarating too.’
It had been busy and he was knackered. He should be going home to bed, not chatting up pretty strangers in the snow, but he’d been powerless to resist her. He could count on one hand the number of women he’d bothered to look at twice since losing his wife two years ago. There had been no shortage of offers, plenty of women seemed to find the idea of a widower romantically attractive, but he had barely given any of them the time of day. Initially he’d been too grief-stricken, then he’d felt as if he was being unfaithful, and lately he’d been too busy. But something about Charli had struck a chord with him; something about her had made him sit up and take notice.
He was getting lonely. Shift work and a three-year-old daughter occupied a lot of his time but there were nights when he was home, alone on the couch while his daughter slept, and he missed adult company. Female company. He wanted a connection, it didn’t need to be permanent, but finding someone attractive was an unusual experience for him and that flutter of anticipation, that curiosity, that tremor of excitement, had been enough to galvanise him into action. When he’d seen her heading for the door he’d known he couldn’t let her leave without