Season of Desire: Complete Edition (29 page)

‘I suppose not.’ I laugh. ‘But I’ve just been tucked up warmly in bed. The contrast is pretty noticeable.’

He puts his book down and gets up. Coming towards me, he holds out his arms and in a moment he’s engulfed me in a hug. I nuzzle into his jacket, but its surface is chilly. ‘Come inside,’ I coax. ‘Don’t sit out here in the cold any more.’

‘How can I resist?’ he says, raising his eyebrow at me.

In the sitting room, he’s already lit the fire and it’s crackling away merrily as it burns around a large log. Once the doors are closed and we’re out of the icy air, I relax again. I sit down on the sofa opposite the fire and beckon him to me, then pull him down so we can cuddle up together.

‘Take off that jacket!’ I command.

He starts to slide it off but says, ‘Watch out now . . . Don’t forget yourself and start issuing orders.’

‘Of course not!’ I say quickly. ‘It’s not an order – more of an invitation.’

‘Now, those I like,’ he says, and pulls me into his broad warm chest. ‘Even if you have made me leave my book and my drink outside.’

‘Aren’t I more interesting?’ I ask, putting my lips to his cheek. The skin is a tantalising mixture of smooth and rough, with the softness of his cheek tempered by the prickle of stubble.

‘Of course you are,’ he murmurs. His arm tightens around me. ‘Listen, it’s lovely being cosy on my own with you up here but I wondered how you feel about going out for dinner. I’m okay with eggs, but not very good with anything else, so it would either be a disappointing supper, or we’ll have to call on the services of the chef again.’

I open my mouth to say that of course we’ll go out – then I close it. What if I’m seen and word gets back to my father? I can hardly wear a ski hat and sunglasses through dinner in a restaurant, and I’m well enough known to be recognised, especially here in Klosters. ‘I’m not sure,’ I say, frowning.

‘I know what you’re thinking – it’s safer to stay here. But my friend Dominic is in town—’

‘Dominic who owns this chalet?’ I say, mildly panicked. Does this mean our delightful sojourn
à deux
is over? Will we be sharing this place with Miles’s friend? The thought is not a pleasant one. I don’t want any intruders but it’s hard to see how we could refuse someone entry into their own chalet.

Miles sees my expression and says quickly, ‘Yes, but he’s not staying here. He and Beth are just passing through and he suggested dinner. He knows that we’ve got the chalet, and doesn’t expect to come up here. It’s fine.’

‘But still . . .’ I frown again. ‘A restaurant?’

‘Dominic knows a very sweet little place in the mountains – we’ll have a room to ourselves. We won’t see anyone else.’

‘I don’t want to see anyone but you,’ I say.

‘I know.’ He covers my hand with his large one and squeezes it gently. ‘But you’ll like them, I promise. And you’ll get a much better dinner than you will with me, I can assure you of that!’

I smile at him. It suddenly occurs to me that if Miles is going to introduce me to his friend, then surely that means I’m someone important in his life, someone he wants people to meet. Or am I reading too much into it? ‘Okay. It sounds fun.’

‘Good. Then we’ll go.’

I’m putting a last slick of gloss on my lips when I hear the jingle of sleigh bells outside. Curious, I put my lip gloss in my purse, pick up my shoes and hurry downstairs. Miles is waiting at the bottom, wearing a black coat with a fur collar, thick leather gloves and a black wool hat.

‘There you are,’ he says. ‘Come on, we’re going.’

‘Who’s at the door?’ I ask, putting on a pair of fleece-lined boots and a thick sheepskin coat with a deliciously soft, woolly collar that encases my neck in warmth. I slip my shoes into a bag and pull a soft cashmere beret over my hair. ‘Sounds like Father Christmas has just arrived.’

‘Not exactly.’ Miles grins. ‘But I don’t want to drive so we’re going the traditional way.’ He opens the chalet door and I catch a glimpse of the dark shapes of horses shaking manes, hear the thud of hooves, soft whinnies and the muted jingle of bells on the harnesses. A driver, well wrapped up and wearing a brimmed hat, sits at the front of the sleigh, a long slender whip in his hand, lit by two glowing lanterns hanging from the curved prow, one on each side.

I laugh as I step outside the chalet. I usually get around in four-wheel drive SUVs, leaving the sleigh rides for the tourists, but there’s something very charming about the old-fashioned vehicle. Miles locks up the chalet, then opens the little door in the side of the sleigh and helps me in. The seats are well upholstered and fur-lined rugs are provided; he settles down beside me on the padded seat and tucks the rugs around us.

‘
Wir sind fertig
,’ he tells the driver. ‘
Schloss Marika
,
bitte.
’

‘You speak German,’ I say admiringly.

‘A little.’ He smiles back. The driver flicks the reins and the pair of huge brown horses toss their heads, and begin to trot. The sleigh jerks a little as the horses find their rhythm but as soon as they have their pace, we glide over the snow and into the darkness. I sigh happily. This is very romantic, I have to admit that. The view is stunning. The moon is up and is touching the snowy mountains and the pine forests with its icy beams. The sky is a silvery grey, bright with the moonlight, but we are gliding through the cold shadows of the forest, our way lit by the now golden light of the lamps. Every now and then, the driver urges the horses on with a click and a crooning sound, and the world is quiet except for the thudding of the hooves and the hiss of the sleigh’s runners on the snow. We’re heading away from the town that’s sparkling below us, a fairyland of white-capped roofs.

‘It’s so beautiful,’ I say to Miles and he nods.

‘Aye. It makes me remember home just a little.’

‘Really?’

‘Pine trees always make me think of Scotland.’

I press into him and he puts an arm around me. ‘I’d like to go there.’

He laughs and I feel it rumble against my chest through the thickness of our coats. ‘You wouldn’t find my village quite as glamorous as this place. I mean, I love it but fondness helps the eye along quite a bit. The land around is beautiful, though, there’s no doubt of that.’

We sit close together, soaking in the atmosphere, listening to the jangle of the bells and the snorting of the horses, as the sleigh climbs the winding road. Just as I’m wondering where on earth we could be going, the driver turns off between two old stone pillars topped with stone griffins, and a pair of open wrought-iron gates.

‘Ah. We’re almost here,’ Miles says. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m ready for dinner and much as I’m enjoying this ride, I could also do with getting inside somewhere warm.’

I don’t feel the cold at all, except for the slight numbness in my cheeks. I gaze ahead into the darkness at the end of the curving drive, half wanting us not to arrive somewhere I’ll have to share Miles with other people. But before too long we round the bend and I see before me the turrets and stone walls of a schloss.

‘Here we are. Schloss Marika,’ says Miles.

The castle windows glow golden against the night and the large arched wooden front doors stand open to a brightly lit hall. Within a few minutes, the driver has brought the sleigh to a halt in front of the steps that lead up to the door. Miles has leapt down and helped me out of the sleigh and we’re walking up the steps and into the huge hall, with its iron chandelier glowing with candles. I take off my coat, hat and boots in the ladies’ cloakroom and return pink-cheeked in the dress I chose for this evening: a simple black silk shift with red satin heels embroidered in glittering jewel-coloured thread, and an evening purse also exquisitely embroidered.

‘You look beautiful,’ Miles whispers to me, as he takes me by the arm and we follow a waiter down a winding stone staircase to a private vaulted room at the bottom.

‘Thank you.’ I feel a rush of pride that he might want to be seen with me on his arm.

As we walk in, I see a couple are already waiting there for us. The man is tall and dark, with noticeably beautiful brown eyes and olive skin. As he sees us, he stands up, a broad smile on his face, his arms out to Miles, and a merry greeting on his lips. Behind him, sitting at a beautifully laid table is a pretty girl: she’s fair with shoulder length hair falling in soft waves, and wide grey eyes. I guess at once she’s English: she has those pink-and-white looks. But as she turns to us with a smile, I have the impression that she’s tougher than those big wide eyes and the full, rather rosebud-ish mouth might suggest, although I don’t know why I should think that. She’s smiling very brightly with a glow about her that might just be the candlelight burnishing her fair hair. She gets to her feet too and I see that she’s shorter and curvier than I am, wearing a knee-length dress in black-and-white chevron stripes that shows off a small waist and round hips.

‘Miles, you old reprobate! How are you?’ Dominic is good-looking and well-built, but for me, he doesn’t have Miles’s magnetism or the tough muscled body of the ex-soldier. He looks over at me. ‘And you must be Miles’s friend . . .’

I nod, smiling back.

Miles says, ‘This is Freya.’ He doesn’t explain our relationship and there is no follow up question to find out more. Perhaps Dominic’s been told not to ask questions – or perhaps he already knows everything. ‘Freya – Dominic.’

‘Great to meet you, Freya. Welcome. This is Beth.’ He gestures to the girl still standing at the table.

She smiles broadly and I feel instantly welcome. ‘Hi, Freya.’

We take our seats as we swap polite information about our journeys and the weather. Beth asks me solicitously if I’ve warmed up and compliments me on my dress. When we’re settled, the waiter stands ready to take our orders for drinks.

Dominic says expansively, ‘Is it all right with you if we order a bottle of champagne?’

‘Of course,’ says Miles. I nod my agreement. I’m feeling rather shy in the presence of these confident, rather charismatic people. I have no idea if they know who I am but I’m enjoying the feeling of anonymity. I get the impression I’ll be judged on myself, rather than on my father’s money or perceptions gained from the media.

When Dominic’s ordered a bottle of Krug, Miles says, ‘Is there something to celebrate?’

I notice suddenly that Beth is not just glowing from the candlelight but from the illumination that comes with sheer happiness. She and Dominic look at one another and I know at once that they share something special.

Dominic doesn’t take his brown eyes off her as he says, ‘The truth is – I’ve asked Beth to marry me. And she’s said yes.’

Beth laughs joyfully, puts out her hand and takes Dominic’s. Then she says, her gaze still fixed on him, ‘Yes. I can’t believe it but we’re engaged.’ She shakes her head. ‘I didn’t realise it would feel so different.’

‘Congratulations!’ says Miles heartily. He’s beaming at them both, and seems genuinely delighted. ‘What wonderful news. I’m really happy for you. Dominic, you’re a very lucky man. Beth – I hope you know what you’ve taken on!’

‘Of course I do,’ she says, laughing.

‘Congratulations,’ I echo, moved despite the fact that I hardly know them. It feels a little odd to be here sharing their big moment when I’m a virtual stranger. Their happiness is almost palpable. I smile at Beth. ‘Do you have a ring?’

She nods, her eyes shining with pleasure, and holds out her left hand. A beautiful emerald-cut diamond glitters on her finger with a setting of tiny diamonds on either side of it, all on a band of platinum.

‘It’s stunning,’ I say sincerely, admiring the ring’s elegance. I notice that it sits on her finger above another ring: a hoop of diamonds, small but very sparkling. ‘Oh! You’ve got two rings!’

Beth’s gaze moves back to Dominic and her eyes soften as she says, ‘Yes, that’s right. The smaller one is my promise ring. Dominic gave it to me a while ago to signify a promise to one another.’

I’m a little confused. ‘I thought that an engagement ring was a promise ring – a promise that you’ll get married.’

‘Yes, of course. But we had an earlier promise too – it signifies something to us.’ She flushes very lightly and I get the impression that this is more than a straightforward engagement.

But why, when they look so happy? Why should they have needed a different promise altogether?
I’ll ask Miles to tell me what he knows, I decide, intrigued.

They’re still looking at each other, lost in the happiness they so clearly feel. I feel a pang deep inside me.
I want that.
I can’t help the thought as I see the pure love between these two, and I glance at Miles. He’s staring at his friends, that half smile of his twisting his mouth but there’s a stillness about him and a look in the depths of his eyes that I haven’t seen before.

‘When will you get married?’ I ask, feeling that I need to say something.

Beth looks back at me. ‘We haven’t even discussed that! Dominic managed to take me by surprise. I had no idea he had a proposal on his mind right now – he’s working so hard, flying all over the world. We’ll have to talk about it.’

Dominic leans even closer towards her, holding her hand more tightly. ‘Was it really a surprise?’ he asks, smiling at her.