4. Hans

4

HANS

I can’t bear to look at Allie. In a ski suit with an eighteen-year-old’s innocence, she was beautiful. In a wedding dress that hugs her filled out womanly figure, she’s breathtaking. Stunning. If I look at her too long, my retinas will burn and I’ll be blinded to everything in the universe aside from her.

So I keep my head down and trudge through the snow, hoping she’s following me.

My cabin is at the back of the staff accommodation area. I moved out of the two bedroom I used to share with my sister and into one of the single cabins right at the back. I wanted to be as far away from the staff lounge and other communal areas as possible. These days I’m as much of a recluse as you can be while working at a busy ski resort.

The staff accommodation area is empty. Everyone’s either hunkered in for the storm or working at the wedding. The wedding where Allie is supposed to be the bride.

A hundred questions go through my mind, but the only thing I really want to know is if her lips still taste like cherry cola.

Snow falls off my boots as I discard them in the wet room of my cabin and unzip my snow suit. Only then do I turn to Allie who’s followed me inside.

She’s shivering. The force of the cold has hit her hard, and her shoulders shake as she runs her hands up and down her bare arms.

“Shit.”

I was so busy being cross with her that I failed to notice how cold she was getting. My instinct is to put my arms around her, and I move forward until her mother’s voice rings in my ears.

He’ll never be good enough for someone like you.

The less touching I do of Allie the better, or I might just forget that she wants nothing to do with someone like me. I drop my arms awkwardly and clench my fists at my side.

“I’ll get you a blanket.”

There’s a woolen throw on the back of the couch, and I drape it around her shoulders.

“Sit.” I indicate the couch and she sits down, wrapping herself in the blanket while I get a fire going.

It doesn’t take long to ignite the wood and get the fire blazing. I sit back on my haunches and watch the flames, unsure what to do now.

I’ve dreamt about having this woman in my cabin, in my bed for the last two years, but now that she’s actually here I don’t know what to say to her.

Allie has no idea that she broke my heart two years ago. That when she discarded me as the hired help, my heart broke, my world fell apart, and it hasn’t been the same since.

She shuffles on the couch behind me, and I glance back at her.

The blanket’s not big enough to cover all of her, and her stockinged feet are poking out. She’s rubbing them hard, but I can see the redness under the thin silky stockings. She’ll lose a toe if we don’t get the blood flowing again.

“Let me.”

I sit on the couch and take her feet and put them in my lap. Allie looks up at me with her big round eyes. They’re just as innocent as they were two years ago, even with the heavy layer of makeup surrounding them.

“You’ll get frostbite if you don’t get these warm,” I add, in case she thinks I’m rubbing her feet like some goddamn servant. Like the help .

Touching her has my blood heating even though she’s cold as ice. I focus on getting her warm and ignore the silky feel of her stockings. I work systematically like I’ve been trained, rubbing each toe individually and then working my way down the foot to get the blood flowing. God knows why she jumped out with no shoes on.

“What were you thinking?”

It comes out harsher than I intended, and I hate myself for the way she recoils at my words.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She looks away to the fire, and I regret my harshness. She’s receding in on herself, and I don’t blame her. I’m a grumpy bastard. But she could have harmed herself being out in that cold for much longer. It was lucky I was there.

Or it was fate.

I hush the voice in my head, because that’s not how fate works. The wealthy princess doesn’t end up with the pauper. She’s got a prince waiting for her in the chapel wondering right about now where the hell she is.

Which must be a shit thing to have on your conscience. A pang of sympathy pierces my chest. If she’s run from her own wedding, there must be a good reason for it and there’s bound to be fall out. Maybe what she needs now is a distraction.

“Wiggle your toes for me.”

She gives them a wiggle, which means she’s not going to lose any of them. My hands run up her toes to her ankles. I long to keep going, to hike up her dress and follow the trail all the way up to her garters. But this bride isn’t mine. And those thoughts lead to trouble.

“You’ll keep your toes.”

I stop massaging but keep her feet on my lap. They’re large feet, like the rest of Allie. Good strong feet for skiing and hiking and carrying thick, strong legs to wrap around a man.

“You want to play a game of Jenga?”

I sit up abruptly before my thoughts run away from me and make me do something we’ll both regret.

Allie lets out a long sigh. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll make you a hot drink first. Are you hungry?”

She shakes her head. “A coffee would be good.”

She tucks her feet under herself on the couch, and it’s the most adorable sight I’ve ever seen. The runaway bride perched on my couch.

“Thank you, Hans.”

I shrug. “I couldn’t leave you out there in the cold. There’s a storm coming.”

“I mean, thank you for not taking me back.”

I look at her a long time, because how could I take her back? How could I hand her over to another man?

“You can hide out here for a couple of hours, but you need to call someone and let them know you’re safe. I don’t want a search party going out looking for you when there’s a storm coming.”

She nods quickly, and her face is etched with relief.

I wonder how she got into this situation, and who the guy is she’s supposed to marry. Jealousy consumes me, and I turn away quickly before she can see.

It’s not my concern. I’ll make us a pot of coffee, we’ll play Jenga, and in a few hours when everything’s calmed down, I’ll take her back down the mountain and deliver her to her family and her jilted fiancé. She can go back to her five star world, and I’ll go back to my reclusive one.

That’s it. Then I’ll put Allie Porter out of my mind for good.