Proposal At The Winter Ball. Jessica Gilmore
She never had. She took every rejection as a final blow whether it was work or her heart. It was easier not to put herself out there. Easier to lock herself away and hope.
Hope that somebody would see her Internet site and say, ‘Hey, you amazing talent, come work for me!’
Hope that Alex would turn round, look into her eyes and realise, just like that, she was the only girl for him.
Hope that her parents would tell her that she made them proud.
She just sat back and let life pass her by. Hoping.
Flora raised her glass and downed the schnapps. It wasn’t quite as fierce this time. Not as hot. More...mellow. She had definitely underrated schnapps.
She reached out and closed her hand around the bottle, wondering why it took a few goes to clasp it properly, and pulled it towards her.
‘Another one?’ Alex’s eyebrows rose. ‘We had quite a lot of wine at dinner. Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Dad.’ She grinned at him. ‘I like your hair like that.’
Alex touched his head, staring at her in confusion. ‘My hair?’
Flora put her head to one side. ‘It’s all glowy with the Christmas lights behind you. Like a halo. Angel Alex.’
She didn’t see him move but the next thing she knew he was by her side, one firm hand on hers, removing the bottle from her grasp.
‘If you’re talking about angels then you have definitely had enough. Come along.’ He slid the bottle out of her reach and pulled at her hand, helping her rise to her feet. Flora swayed and caught his shoulder and he grimaced. ‘Bed time for you. I forgot you and schnapps don’t mix.’
‘We mix just fine.’ Flora regained her footing and stopped still, her hand still on his shoulder. She loved that Alex was taller than her. She looked up at him, his dearly familiar face so close to hers. The greeny-grey of his changeable eyes, the long lashes, the faded freckles on his nose, the curve of his cheekbones. The curve of his mouth. So close. Kissing distance. Her stomach clenched, the old exquisite pain. And yet all she had to do was stand on her tiptoes, just a little, and move in.
His words ran through her mind. Try again. Harder each time.
Maybe that was all she had to do. Try again. Maybe Alex was waiting for her to step forward, to make the move. Maybe it had always been within her power to change things but she had just never dared.
Maybe...
Before she knew it the words were tumbling out, words she had spent the last thirteen years keeping locked up deep, deep inside, more plaintive than demanding. ‘Why didn’t you kiss me back?’
‘What?’ His eyes widened in alarm and he took a step back. She moved with him, still holding on as if he were all that kept her anchored. He was lean, almost rangy, but there was a solidity when she touched him, the feel of a man who was fighting fit. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘All those years ago. Why did you push me away? Have you never wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t?’
‘It’s never crossed my mind.’ But his eyes shifted to her mouth as he spoke.
He’s lying. Her throat dried as she realised what that meant.
He had thought about it. And that changed everything. Almost unconsciously she licked her lips; his throat tightened as he watched the tip of her tongue dip onto her top lip and, at the gesture, her heart began to beat faster.
Emboldened, Flora carried on, her voice low and persuasive. ‘All those nights we stayed up talking till dawn. When we visited each other at uni we slept in the same bed, for goodness’ sake. The tents we’ve shared... Have you never wondered, not even once? What it would be like? What we’d be like?’
‘I...’ His eyes were on hers, intent, a heat she had never seen before beginning to burn bright, melting her. ‘Maybe once or twice.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘But we’re not like that, Flora. We’re more than that.’
Flora was dimly aware that there was something important in his words, something fundamental that she should understand, but she didn’t want to stop, not now as the heat in his eyes intensified, his gaze locking on hers. If she pushed it now, he would follow. She knew it; she knew it as she knew him.
She also knew that whatever happened the consequences would be immense. There would be repercussions. Last time they had pretended it had never happened. It was unlikely that would happen again; their friendship would be altered for ever. Could she live with that?
Could she live without trying? Laugh it off as lack of sleep and too much schnapps? Now she had come so far...
No, not when he was looking at her like that. Heat and questions and desire mingling in his eyes, just as she had always dreamed. I want you to go for what you want. That was what he’d told her.
She wanted him.
‘Kiss me, Alex,’ she said softly. And before he could reply or pull away Flora stepped in, put her other hand on his shoulder and, raising herself on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his.
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,