Reckless Engagement. Daphne Clair
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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 blinked at him. ‘What do you mean?’
Zachary studied her face consideringly. ‘Never mind. Do you think you can stand, with my help?’
‘Yes.’ She could probably manage without it, but she didn’t fancy floundering round trying to get her balance if she was wrong. She manoeuvred herself into position, then stood up slowly while he steadied her. His hand remained on her waist and he was looking down at her with a slightly amused, knowing expression.
‘Thank you,’ she said tightly. ‘I can manage now.’
He didn’t move and she cast him a fierce glare. ‘I know I seem to have made a habit of looking to be in need of rescuing when you’re around, but it wasn’t deliberate. And I certainly didn’t come up the mountain with the intention of waylaying you.’ She was appalled that he might have thought so. ‘I don’t find climbers that fascinating, and anyway, in case you’d forgotten, I’m engaged to be married.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ he said. ‘Had you?’
Katrien drew a deep, furious breath. ‘No!’ She’d done nothing that could be construed that way, she assured herself.
She stiffened against his light hold and put a hand behind her to tug at his wrist, but that was a mistake, making her body curve towards his just as he bent his head and increased the pressure of his hand on her waist against her ineffectual resistance. And said softly, ‘Could I make you…forget?’
His voice, his face were those of the man in her dreams, and for a second she imagined that this was another night fantasy. Tongue-tied, she was possessed of a great curiosity. The air around them seemed stilled, waiting.
But when his mouth was a hairsbreadth from hers, she jerked away, assailed by a sudden shaft of familiar fear. ‘No!’
‘Okay,’ Zachary said easily, releasing her. He picked up the pole she’d lost and handed it courteously to her. ‘Only that isn’t the message I’ve been getting from you.’
She looked up from pushing her gloved hand through the loop on the ski pole to see him regarding her with quizzical enquiry. Flushing, she realised he was right. Somehow in her mind he’d got mixed up with the larger-than-life figure who had dominated her dream life since adolescence. It wasn’t his fault that she’d been giving out confusing signals. She was confused herself.
‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘you remind me of someone I…met a long time ago.’
‘Not your fiancé?’
Katrien shook her head.
‘Does he know about this…someone?’
‘There’s nothing to know.’
‘Nothing?’ He gave a short, breathy laugh.
Katrien looked at him angrily, and he said, ‘I’d say your fiancé has a problem on his hands.’
‘It’s not a problem,’ she said emphatically. ‘You don’t understand.’ Not that there was any need for him to do so.
‘Does What’s-his-name understand?’
‘Callum,’ she said. ‘He has nothing to worry about, and excuse me, but it’s none of your business.’
‘Maybe it isn’t. But I tell you what—if I were engaged to you and saw you looking at another man the way you look at me, I’d be worried all right. I’d be doing something about it.’
‘Like what?’ she shot at him without thinking.
He looked thoughtful. ‘You probably don’t want to know.’
Violence? Her lip curled with scorn. ‘Of course, you rugged mountain men are so physical!’
‘Yeah,’ he said, his eyes glinting. ‘We are.’ His hand reached over, so casually, and cupped her chin, turning her face towards him. And then he leaned down and kissed her thoroughly, his lips exploring hers, parting them, mastering her with a flair and panache that he hadn’t learned on any mountain slopes.
Anchored by her skis, hampered by the ski poles looped to her hands, she could hardly move. Pure panic fought with the hot sweep of passion that sent the blood racing in her veins and made her lips pliant and shamefully eager under his.
Someone swished by with a whoop of laughter and someone else whistled shrilly across the snow. Katrien made a protesting sound and tried to tear herself from Zachary’s hold.
He lifted his head and looked down at her. ‘If I were your Callum,’ he said, ‘I’d be very worried.’
She pulled herself away, keeping her balance with some difficulty, and trying to breathe normally. ‘That was…’
‘Wonderful?’ he suggested as she hunted for words.
‘Unfair!’ she snapped. ‘Contemptible.’
His lips pursed. ‘I didn’t think my technique was that bad.’
He was laughing