Page 10 of A Winter Wedding Adventure (Adventure Weddings #2)

For a seven-hour drive that should only have taken three, the trip passed surprisingly pleasantly – not that Kira would admit that, even to herself. Mattia was an excruciatingly congenial travel companion.

The road narrowed after Mayrhofen and she was now navigating through a white valley, the windscreen wipers on full against continued flurries.

Chalets with wooden balconies dotted the meadows to her right and on their left, the mountainside rose steeply, rockfall barriers groaning under the weight of snow.

And her baritone companion was singing along with some Italian crooner, complete with air guitar, as though he were on stage in front of a crowd of adoring fans, his voice in a hundred colours, from lively and smooth to rough and aching.

He made people feel things and while Kira didn’t want him to turn his magic onto her, she was a little in awe of it.

Ginny and Sophie and the others from I Do Destinations would probably want to keep him on their books for future events. He could probably make the pettiest jealous ex cry at a wedding.

‘I would applaud, except I think you’d prefer I kept my hands on the wheel,’ she said when the song finished.

‘What did you think? Honestly,’ he asked. She could almost hear him batting his eyelids hopefully at her.

‘I think your calling in life was opera after all. Too many wrong notes on the guitar,’ she joked.

He laughed, a deep sound from his stomach that reminded her of the powerful vibrations of his serious singing voice. ‘I meant of the song. It’s Eros Ramazzotti, a national treasure. Have you heard of him?’

‘I have to admit, there’s only one person I think of when you mention Italian singers.’

‘Ah, yes. The incomparable tenor. You know he couldn’t read music?’

‘Can you?’

‘Of course! I spent years of my life studying music.’

It was about as far as you could get from climbing crags. For a man who smelled like designer cologne, wore a gold chain and silky, patterned shirts that were nicer than anything she owned, and used his powerful, refined voice for a living, he was surprisingly sympathetic.

When the opening synthesiser of the next song filled the van, he grinned at her for long enough that she was forced to meet his gaze. Then the iconic opening chords came in and Kira recognised the song with a stifled smile. Not that it helped. Mattia could tell.

He beat his hands against the dashboard, bobbing his head as though it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing Kira had ever seen.

‘You know this, right?’

‘Of course,’ she mumbled in reply.

‘Can you sing along?’

‘No!’

‘It’s more fun if you do, I promise. Just the chorus!’

‘I’m concentrating on the road,’ she said, jerking her chin at the windscreen.

But she had no hope against his pout. He sang the section just before the chorus and it took some effort for Kira not to join in, although she needed a moment to gather her pride. But her fingertips tapped on the steering wheel.

At the first words of the chorus, he tossed his head and increased the volume of his singing, arms flailing. Kira snorted a laugh, but there was no way she could resist leaning towards him and singing, ‘Woah-oh, livin’ on a prayer!’

With a delighted smile, Mattia turned to her and they sang the rest of the chorus together, her voice rusty and barely in tune – not that that seemed to matter to him.

Her chest was light and she laughed at him when he continued singing into a pretend microphone like Jon Bon Jovi in the music video.

‘Key change!’ he announced just before the final chorus and Kira could imagine him turning in a dramatic spin on stage. She was laughing so hard, she almost missed the navigation system telling her to turn left.

‘Whoops!’ She made the sharp turn, skidding slightly, but she resisted applying the brakes and the winter tyres quickly regained traction. Mattia had flung his arms out, bracing himself against the dashboard with his eyes squeezed shut.

‘We’re alive,’ she said drily.

He pried one eye open and released a breath. Then he peered out of the windscreen, ducking forward. ‘Are you sure? This place doesn’t look real.’

Kira followed the instructions Ginny had sent her towards the parking lot, ignoring Mattia and his dramatic gasps while she manoeuvred the van into a narrow space, her lip tucked into her teeth in concentration. When she’d pressed the park brake and sat back in her seat, she asked, ‘What?’

‘Look! At that!’ he said, his voice high.

She blinked. Lush pine forest rose to one side, powdered with snow as thick as the icing on a wedding cake. On the other was the village of Lanersbach, a cluster of peaked roofs with carved, wooden eaves.

‘What?’ she asked again, as he rolled his eyes. All around the isolated valley rose mountain summits, dappled with snow on their steep slopes.

‘The landscape is… extraordinary. Did you drive us into a different world?’

‘No,’ she said quizzically. ‘This is Tyrol.’

Groping for the door-handle, he tumbled outside, his neck bent backwards as he spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. Raising his arms, he marvelled at the snow showering around him, glistening in the glow from the street lamps as the sky darkened with early dusk.

‘Evviva! Woohoo!’ he cried out, taking a step – right into a snowdrift. ‘Ahi!’ Stumbling out of the icy, wet pile, he grasped the door for balance, throwing her a wry smile that caught Kira in the ribs.

She was used to finding men attractive when they had overdeveloped muscles in their backs and big, blunt hands for grasping rocks and tying knots. Patterned shirts with too many buttons undone, bright smiles and clumsiness were not supposed to inspire this fluttering in her gut.

But there it was. Her throat thickened and her chest tightened and maybe she was ill?

If she had a virus, that might explain why her insides were goop just from looking at him.

She couldn’t help thinking that his friend Alessandra was right about one thing at least: there was something special about Mattia that needed protecting – mostly from himself, she added, as he lifted one foot to inspect his sodden shoe with a grimace.

‘Cazzo!’ he cursed.

‘Get back inside!’ Kira called. ‘I have to phone Ginny to send the shuttle for us and I don’t know how long we’ll be waiting here.’

Swinging himself back into the seat, he gave a violent shiver and pulled the door closed. ‘Maybe I should just look at the beautiful snow and not touch it.’

Shooting him a tolerant smile, Kira held her phone to her ear and climbed over the centre console into the rear of the minivan.

‘Finally! Please tell me you’ve arrived! Alessandra is beside herself.’

‘We’ve arrived!’ Kira was glad to declare, amused by Ginny’s effusive relief. After her colleague promised to send the shuttle for them, Kira hauled her rucksack upright and popped the snaps as she signed off, ‘I’ll see you soon.’

‘Kira,’ Ginny continued tentatively before Kira could disconnect the call. ‘You remember what I said about… being presentable?’

‘For fuck’s sake, it’s minus five degrees out there and even the rich people will be wearing technical boots,’ she grumbled. ‘But I remember, which is why I’m going through my stuff right now to find a… blouse .’

Kira’s nose wrinkled. She wasn’t sure she’d ever used the word before. It sounded like something used for blowing her nose.

‘You’re the absolute best . You won’t believe this group.

The bride is gorgeous and super sweet, but holy shit, this lot use their silver spoons to check their reflections!

London finance types with money to burn – or freeze, in this case.

You have to manage them carefully and part of that is earning their respect early on. ’

‘I’m sure I’ll earn their respect on the slopes,’ Kira pointed out, ‘but putting on a nice shirt won’t kill me.’

‘And… some make-up? Did you get that stuff I recommended?’

When Kira had determined that every last item of make-up she owned was so old, it was unhygienic, she’d asked Ginny for advice. ‘I brought some make-up. I won’t embarrass you.’

‘Fuck, I wish that didn’t make me sound like such a bitch.’

Kira grinned, remembering the first time she’d discovered Ginny was a terrible potty mouth, as bad as any mountaineer, although she kept up a perfect facade for her clients – a skill Kira wasn’t sure she would ever master.

‘See you soon. But you owe me a drink after this.’ She stilled, her brow pulling down.

Since when did she want to hang out with the staff of I Do Destinations?

The two very different travel companies found themselves in a marriage of convenience, which Kira had assumed would never be anything other than merely convenient. Ginny surely wouldn’t want to hang out.

But her colleague answered, ‘I’m going to need a big one too!’ with a smile in her voice. ‘It’s a deal.’

After disconnecting the call, Kira rummaged in her stuffed rucksack, tugging out her toiletry pouch and a rather crushed cream blouse she’d only ever worn once.

It had a sort of scarf thing attached that she had no idea how to tie, but other people made it look so effortless, she was certain she’d work it out somehow.

Ducking to avoid whacking the roof as she flailed, she unzipped the collar of her merino base layer and whipped it off. That was when she caught sight of Mattia, wide-eyed and turned in his seat, frozen and staring.

Her skin flushed with heat. His look was difficult to misinterpret – especially after their conversation about attraction and friendship – and if she’d wanted to misunderstand on purpose, the strangled sound of surprise in the back of his throat would have undermined the attempt.

His gaze drifted along her shoulders and down her arms, then back up, snagging on her breasts before snapping up to her face as his cheeks blossomed pink.

‘Sorry,’ he said tightly, whipping around to face forward – about thirty seconds too late. His chest rose and fell heavily.

Kira slipped the blouse over her head and stuffed her arms into the silky sleeves, grimacing at the skip in her heartbeat and the tightness of breath that she really didn’t want to be feeling right now.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said peevishly. ‘I’m used to sharing dorms and tents and close quarters. It doesn’t matter to me if you saw my bra.’

His breath hitched audibly again and he mumbled something inarticulate. It might have been fun toying with him, teasing him for making a big deal out of attraction, but in truth, she was frustrated.

These vibes had nowhere to go except the bedroom and she couldn’t exactly drag opera boy to the room she was sharing with Ginny and work these feelings out of their systems while she was supposed to be assisting with the wedding.

Even if an improbable opportunity presented itself, she didn’t particularly want to educate Mattia about attraction and sex without affection – leaving out that ‘something’ that he’d obviously shared with his ex, that Kira wasn’t interested in.

But just thinking about his liquid eyes on her made her skin sensitive and started a warm heat inside her – a pleasant, smooth, gratifying heat – and the wedding suddenly felt a lot more complicated.