Proposal At The Winter Ball. Jessica Gilmore

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       CHAPTER THREE

      HE SHOULD HAVE walked away. No, he should walk away, there was still time. Only there wasn’t. Time was slowing, stopping, converging right here, right now on this exact spot, somewhere above Innsbruck. All that was left was this moment. The feel of her mouth against his, her hands, tentative on his shoulders. He shouldn’t, he couldn’t—and yet he was...

      Because it was all he had dreamed it might be, those shameful, secret dreams. The crossing of boundaries, the touching the untouchable. Her touch was light, her kiss sweetly questioning and despite everything Alex desperately wanted to give her the answers she was seeking.

      He stood stock-still for one long moment, trying to summon up the resolve to walk away, but the blood hummed through his veins, the noise drowning out the voice of caution; her sweet, vanilla scent was enfolding him and he was lost. Lost in her. Lost in the inevitable.

      With that knowledge all thought of backing off, backing out disappeared. One hand slipped, as if of its volition, around the curve of her waist, pulling her in tightly against him, the other burying itself in the hair at the nape of her neck; a heavy, sweet smelling cloud. And Alex took control. He kissed her back, deepening, intensifying the kiss as the blood roared in his ears and all he could feel was the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her body, pliant against his.

      Her touch was no longer tentative, one arm tight around his neck. Holding his head as if she didn’t dare let him go. The other was on the small of his back, working at the fabric of his shirt, branding him with the fevered heat of her touch.

      If she touched his flesh he would be utterly undone.

      Like the animal he was he could take her here and now. Not caring about the consequences, not caring that they weren’t in a private space. That the staff could walk in any minute. That once again there would be no going back.

      That once again he could take things too far. And once again he could lose everything.

      He had learned nothing.

      Alex wrenched his mouth away; the taste of her lingered, intoxicatingly tempting on his tongue. But he had to sober up. ‘Flora.’ His breath was ragged as he stared into her confused dark eyes. ‘I...’

      ‘Am I interrupting something?’ Both Alex and Flora jumped slightly as the rich, Italian tones, tinged with a hint of mockery, floated across the hotel lounge. Alex didn’t need to look around to know who he would see—the owner of this hotel and the woman who had employed him to design three more, Camilla Lusso.

      ‘Buongiorno, Camilla.’ He took a deep, shuddering breath, willing his overheated body to cool, his spinning brain to slow. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.’ He turned, fixing a cool, professional smile on his face as he greeted his biggest and most influential client.

      ‘That’s rather clear.’ Still that hint of mockery in her voice, her eyes assessing and cool as she looked at Flora, clearly not missing a single detail as she took in the mussed hair, the swollen lips, the wrinkles in the baggy dress.

      Camilla Lusso could have been any age between thirty-five and fifty-five although Alex suspected she was at the top end of the age range, but her expensively styled hair, subtle make-up and chic wardrobe made her seem timeless. A glossy, confident and successful woman. A professional woman who demanded top-class professionalism from everyone who worked with and for her.

      Flora was supposed to be impressing her, not being found drunkenly making out with the architect.

      Why now? Why tonight after all these years? He could blame the schnapps, he could blame the mountains framed through the windows, the warmth of the fire burning in the stove. It was a scene out of Seduction 101. But the only person he could really blame was himself. He should have backed off, backed away, laughed off the conversation—not been struck dumb with the thought of an alternate world. A world in which he might have been worthy of the adoration and desire shining out of Flora’s dark eyes.

      He had to fix this. Camilla’s eyes had narrowed as she assessed Flora. If she found her wanting in any way then Alex knew she’d turn her away, no matter how good her work.

      ‘I owe you an apology, Camilla. When I recommended Flora to you I wanted you to appreciate her for her own talent and so...’ He paused, searching for the right words, the right way to make this all right. There was only one way. To make the whole embarrassing scene seem perfectly normal.

      ‘I didn’t tell you that we’re dating. I’m sorry, I should have mentioned it but we agreed to be discreet this week, to put our relationship on the back burner.’ He allowed himself a wry smile. ‘Starting from tomorrow.’ He took Flora’s hand in his, pinching her in warning, hoping the shock of the last five minutes had sobered her up. Play along.

      To his relief she picked up his cue. ‘Pleased to meet you. I am very excited to be working with you and to help breathe life and colour into Alex’s designs. I didn’t realise I would have the honour of meeting you this evening otherwise...’ Flora gestured at her wrinkled dress, at her mussed-up hair ‘... I would have made more of an effort.’

      ‘But no.’ Camilla’s face had relaxed—as much as her tightened skin would allow—into a smile. ‘The apology is all mine. I should have warned you that I had changed my plans. I have interrupted your last evening of privacy.’