The By Request Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      THIS WHOLE WEEK was doomed. Alex had known it from the minute he’d got Lola’s email. Camilla Lusso liked to work with people she could show off. Extroverted, larger than life, Lola had fitted the bill perfectly. Flora? Not so much. But she did have the training, after all. It wasn’t as if he had thrown her in unprepared; she’d been brought up with camera crews, journalists and interviewers traipsing through the house, had been expected to converse intelligently at dinner parties and receptions since she’d hit double figures.

      Of course, that didn’t mean she enjoyed any of it. Alex knew all too well that if he’d been completely honest with her at the start she’d have run a mile.

      Maybe that would have been for the best. No Flora, no kiss, no sleepless night.

      Because, try as he might, he just couldn’t shake the memory of the warmth of her mouth, the sweetness of her lips, the way his hands had held her as if she were made just for him, every curve slotting so perfectly against him.

      There had been far too many kisses from far more women than Alex cared to remember. Not one had stayed with him, not for a second. This one he could still taste. He had a feeling he would still feel it imprinted on his lips in fifty years’ time.

      And it was all he could do not to put his hands on her shoulders, turn her around and kiss her once again. And this time there would be no stepping back. Not ever.

      But he couldn’t. She deserved better than him. She needed someone who wasn’t dead inside, someone who could match her sweetness and generous spirit. Sometimes Alex thought that Flora could be the saving of him—but he’d be the damning of her. His father’s last words echoed around his brain yet again.

       You taint everything you touch. You were born bad and grew up worse.

      And his father was right.

      But he wouldn’t taint Flora, never Flora.

      ‘I haven’t been ice skating in years.’ She worried away at her lower lip as they walked through the twisty streets. ‘Not since we used to go to the ice discos on a Friday night. Not that you did much skating. You were usually in a corner snogging some random girl.’

      He had been. A different girl each week. The worse he’d behaved, the more they’d seemed to find him irresistible. He had hated himself every single Friday night as he’d smiled across at yet another hopeful—but it hadn’t stopped him moving in while last week’s conquest had watched from a corner.

      Had anything changed? He went in for relationships now, not kisses in a booth by an ice rink, but he didn’t commit as much as a toothbrush to them—and Flora had a point when she said that each of his girlfriends was interchangeable. A warm body to lose himself in, a talisman against the dark.

      Could he change that—did he even want to? Or would it be just as lonely with one woman by his side as it was with dozens?

      He shook off the thought. ‘It’ll be just like riding a bike—the skating, not the snogging.’ Why had he said that? He was pretty sure that the red in her cheeks had nothing to do with the cold and she ducked her head so that he couldn’t see her expression.

      It’ll get easier, he told himself. But he hoped it was soon. He couldn’t imagine being this awkward in front of her parents. He knew Flora thought they favoured him but there was no contest—she was their little girl and if he hurt her they’d take her side. As they should.

      It made him aware just how alone he was in the world. Was there anyone who would be on his side no matter what?

      There were lots of ice rinks in and around Innsbruck, the prettiest on naturally frozen lakes, but the one Alex had chosen had a charm all of its own. It was a temporary rink right in the centre of town, just a short walk from the bustling Christmas markets. The early afternoon sun was too bright for the Christmas lights hanging overhead and bedecking every tree to make any impact but Alex knew that once dusk fell the whole town would light up, a dazzling, golden winter wonderland of crystal and light.

      The rink was busy and it took a while before they could pay and order their skates. The boots were tight and stiff, unfamiliar on his feet, a reminder as he awkwardly stood up just how long it was since he had last been skating. Judging by Flora’s awkward gait, she felt the same way. Gingerly they walked, stiff-legged and heavy-footed, to the wide entrance and peered at the whirling crowd. Even the toddlers seemed to have a professional air as they flew round and round, their mittened hands clasped behind their backs.

      Alex grimaced. ‘I’m not sure about that backward race; right now just going forwards feels like it might be a struggle.’

      Flora slid her foot forward, wobbling like a fawn who had only just found her feet, her arms windmilling madly as she found her balance. ‘Come on, we just need to find our feet. It’ll be fine. I used to be able to dance on the ice.’

      ‘Synchronised moves to pop. It wasn’t exactly figure skating,’ he pointed out as he put a tentative toe on the white surface, his eyes following a slight figure who did seem to be practising figure skating as she looped elegant circles round and round. ‘I don’t think we ever got to Austrian standards.’

      Flora slid out another cautious foot and then another, a smile playing around her mouth as she began to pick up speed. ‘Speak for yourself! You should have spent more time skating, less time being the local Casanova,’ she yelled over her shoulder as she struck out for the centre of the rectangular rink.

      Alex took a quick look around. On the far side the tented café was open to the rink and filled with cheerful onlookers clutching hot drinks and waving at family members as they skated close. At both ends spectators paused in their shopping to watch the sport. Christmas music blared from speakers and a giant, lit-up Christmas tree occupied the very centre of the rink.

      He could stay here, clinging to the handrail, or he could venture out. Come on, he used to spend every weekend doing this. His body must remember the moves. Grimly he let go and began to move.

      That was it, knees bent, body weight forward, letting the blades cut at an angle and propel him forward. The air chilled on his face as he got up some speed, the rest of his body warming with the exertion. Where was Flora? Squinting through a gang of teens, arms locked as they swung round in matching step, he saw her, weaving nimbly in and out of the other skaters. He’d always liked to watch her on the ice. She lost all self-consciousness, graceful as she pirouetted around.

      She saw him and skated an elegant figure of eight, the ice swishing under her skates as she pulled up alongside him.

      ‘Hey.’ She smiled at him, any trace of reserve gone in the wide beam. ‘This is brilliant. Why don’t we do this any more?’

      ‘Because we’re not sixteen?’

      ‘That’s a rubbish reason. Look, there are plenty of people here way older than us.’

      ‘And way younger.’ Alex nodded towards one of the toddler prodigies and Flora laughed.

      ‘He must have been born with skates on. Come on, let’s go faster...’

      She grabbed his hand and struck out and with a shout of alarm mixed with exultation he joined her, their gloved hands entwined, their bodies moving in swift, perfect synchronicity as they whirled faster and faster and faster round and round and round. All he could hear was his blood pumping in his ears, the roar of the wind and the beat of the music; colours swirled together as they moved past, through and round other groups until someone’s foot, he wasn’t sure whose, slipped and they crashed together, a sliding,