The By Request Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
count and use you as her patient,’ Flora countered sweetly and was rewarded by an embarrassed cough.
Silence fell, a silence as dark and impenetrable as the night sky. They were both sitting as far apart as possible, almost clinging onto the side rails, but it was no good; every move of the sleigh slid them back along the narrow bench until they were touching again.
It was all too horribly, awkwardly, toe-curlingly romantic. From the sleigh bells tinkling as the proud-necked white horses trotted along the snowy tracks, to the lanterns the hotel had thoughtfully placed along the paths, the whole scenario was just begging for the lucky passengers to snuggle up under the thick blankets and indulge in some romance beneath the breathtakingly starry sky.
Or, alternatively, they could sit as far apart as possible and make the kind of stilted small talk that only two people who very much didn’t want to be romantic could make. Remarks like, ‘Look, aren’t the stars bright?’ and, ‘The mountains are pretty.’ Yep, Flora reflected after she had ventured a sentence about the height of the pine trees that stretched high up the mountainside, they were definitely reaching new depths of inanity.
If things were normal then they would be curled up laughing under the blankets. She would tease him about the women who had been clustered around him at the reception; he would try and cajole her to be a little more open-minded about her first ski lesson. They would probably refresh themselves from a hip flask. Completely at ease. But tonight the memory of that almost-kiss hung over them. It was in the clip clop of the horse’s hooves, in the gasp of the sharp, cold mountain air, in the tall ghostly shadows cast by the lantern-lit trees.
‘I feel like I should apologise,’ she said after a while. ‘And I am sorry for being drunk and silly, for putting you in a difficult position with Camilla. I am really sorry that you are having to sleep on the narrowest, most uncomfortable sofa I have ever had the misfortune to sit on in my life. And I’m sorry I kissed you.’ She swallowed. ‘I should have taken the hint when you stopped me all those years ago. But I’ve wanted to know what we’d be like most of my life. And when you told me I couldn’t live in fear of rejection I just had to try, one more time...’
‘And?’ His voice was husky, as if it hurt him to speak. ‘Was it worth it?’
‘You tell me.’ Flora shifted so she was sitting side on, so that she could see the inscrutable profile silhouetted against the dark night by the lantern light. ‘Because I think actually that you wanted to as well. Maybe you have always wanted to. Even back then.’
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Flora’s heart speeded up with every second of silence until she felt as if it might explode open with a bang.
‘You’re right. I did. And it was...it was incredible. But you and me, Flora. It would never work. You know that, right?’
Her heart had soared with the word incredible, only to plummet like an out-of-control ski jumper as he finished speaking.
She wasn’t good enough for him. Just as she had always known. ‘Because I don’t have aspirations?’ she whispered. ‘Because I mess up?’
‘No! It’s not you at all.’
The denial only served to irritate her. Did he think she was stupid? ‘Come on, Alex. I expected better from you of all people. You don’t have to want me, it’s okay, but please respect me enough not to fob me off with the whole “It’s not you, it’s me” line. Do you know how many times I’ve heard it? And I know you trot it out on a regular basis.’
‘But this time I mean it. Dammit, Flora. Do you really think I’m good enough for you? That there’s anything in my soulless, workaholic, shallow life that could make you happy?’
‘I...’ Was that really what he thought? ‘You do make me happy. You’re my best friend.’
‘And you’re mine and, believe me, Flora, I am more grateful for that than you will ever know. But you’ve been saving me since you were eight. Now it’s my turn to save you. From me. Don’t you think I haven’t thought about it? How easy it would be? You’re beautiful and funny and we fit. We fit so well. But you deserve someone whole. And I haven’t been whole for a long, long time.’
How could she answer that? How could she press further when his voice was bleak and the look in his eyes, when the lamp highlighted them, was desolate? She took in a deep breath, the cold air sharpening her focus, the icy breeze freezing the tears that threatened to fall.
‘I break everything I touch, Flora,’ Alex said after a while. ‘I can’t, I won’t break you. I won’t break us. Because if I didn’t have you in my life I wouldn’t have anything. And I’m just too selfish to risk that.’
What about me? she wanted to ask. Don’t I get a say? But she didn’t say anything. Instead she slipped her glove off and reached her hand across until she found his, looping her cold fingers through his, anchoring him tightly. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she whispered, her head on his shoulder, breathing him in. ‘I promise, you don’t get rid of me that easily.’
He didn’t answer but she felt the rigid shoulder relax, just a little, and his fingers clasped hers as if he would never let her go. Maybe this would be enough. It would have to be enough because it was all he was offering her.
‘YOU ARE NOT seriously expecting me to get down there?’ Flora pushed up her goggles and glared at the ski instructor.
He shrugged. ‘It’s the only way down.’
‘Yes, but I thought we would stay on the nursery slopes until I could actually ski! This is a proper mountain. With snow on it.’
‘Flora, you were too good for those within an hour and you nailed that blue. You are more than ready for this. Come on, it’s an easy red. End the day on a high note.’
‘Red!’ She stared down the icy slope. Easy? It was practically vertical. Her palms dampened at the thought of launching her body down there. She glared at a small group of schoolkids as they enthusiastically pushed off. They were smaller, more compact. Had a lot less further to fall...
A figure skied easily down the higher slopes towards them and pulled up with a stylish turn, which made Flora yearn to push them right over.
‘Having trouble?’ Alex. Of course. He was annoyingly at home on the slopes. Although, she reflected, he had an unfair disadvantage; after all he’d gone skiing with his school every year since he was eight. After he had left home and put himself through college and then university, his one extravagance was skiing holidays—although a host of rich school friends with their own chalets helped keep the costs down.
‘She won’t go,’ her instructor explained. ‘I tell her it’s more than doable but she refuses.’
‘So how are you planning to get down, Flora? Bottom first?’
She glared at the two of them, hating their identical, idiotic male grins. If only this particular slope had a nice cable car, like the one that had brought them up to the nursery slopes from the hotel. Then she could have just hopped back in and had a return ride. But no, it was a one way trip up in the lift and no way back down apart from on two plastic sticks.
Or she could wait here until spring and walk down in a nice sensible fashion.
The surprising thing was that she had been doing okay, that was very true. Surprisingly okay in fact. But not so okay that she wanted to take on such a big run. Not yet.
‘The only way to improve is to test yourself,’ Alex said, still annoyingly smug. ‘And this looks far worse than it is. Really it’s just a teeny step up from a blue.’
‘Stop throwing colours at me. It’s not helping.’ The truth was she had barely slept again. An early start and an entire day of concentrating on a new sport had pushed her somewhere beyond tiredness