Page 3 of A Winter Wedding Adventure (Adventure Weddings #2)

Mattia realised he hadn’t eaten lunch at about the same moment he noticed the car rental company appeared to be closed.

At least the wedding planner’s exclamation of, ‘What the—?’ covered the creak and groan of his stomach, where he sat in the back of the cab. She peered through the windscreen, her look just as dark as the windows of the shopfront.

He was selfishly relieved that Alessandra had sent this woman with blue hair to look after him.

If she was the kind of person who sat in the front of the cab with the driver, she must be capable of anything and after the day – days – he’d had, he wasn’t sure he was able to solve any problems right now and he didn’t want to disappoint Alessandra just before her wedding.

‘It’s supposed to be open until six-thirty!’

‘Shall I get out and?—’

She was already shoving open the car door and trotting up to read the sign stuck behind the glass. ‘Stay there. It’s closed. Due to heavy snowfall, apparently.’

Glancing doubtfully at the sky, she grumbled under her breath as she returned to the cab. ‘Be still, my growling stomach.’

Mattia had to resist a smile. ‘Can we try somewhere else?’

‘With a minivan available at short notice two days after Christmas?’ she snapped without looking at him. Turning to the driver, she said, ‘Could you take us to the train station, please?’ and pulled out her phone. After a few short taps, the device was at her ear.

‘We’re going to take the train?’ he asked.

She eyed him and that seemed to be the only answer he was going to get.

A quick phone conversation followed, emotions from frustration to dismay to a hint of amusement flitting across her features.

She had an interesting face: a strong jaw and a high forehead, slightly crooked teeth – and straight, firm lips that hinted at complexity.

A puckered scar the shape of the crescent moon adorned her cheekbone.

He suspected he was wearing more make-up than she was, if his concealer and subtle eyeliner had survived the rigorous day of auditions.

Just thinking about the auditions made his empty stomach heave.

‘Are you sure you’re okay on your own until tomorrow? She’s not a bridezilla?’ Kira was saying into her phone.

Mattia sat up straight. ‘Alessandra is not a bridezilla,’ he said indignantly. ‘And what do you mean, “tomorrow”?’

Kira ignored him. ‘We’ll get going as early as we can, but the rental company doesn’t open until ten.’

He held his hand palm down and gestured urgently.

She finally paid him some attention. ‘What?’

‘Can I have the phone? Is Alessandra there?’

‘Can’t you call Alessandra yourself?’

‘Ah.’ She was right. Rummaging in his coat pockets, it took him a minute to find the device and then they were pulling up outside the historic rail terminal and he had to scramble to keep up with her – no hope of working out what was going on, in his state.

After paying the driver, she was out and hauling her backpack on while he was still finding his footing on the slippery pavement and nearly lobbing his phone into the fountain in the process. Despite the foot and vehicle traffic, a layer of snow had built up and it was still coming down.

The train station had a lush spruce bringing post-Christmas spirit into the square.

If this place had to be cold and damp, at least it did so beautifully.

He thought of Alessandra’s dreams of a winter wedding with a shot of tenderness for his old friend.

Then he remembered: Kira Watling had said tomorrow !

Alessandra would be running herself ragged – and worrying about him on top of everything else. But if he stopped to call her now, he might lose his guide, who was setting off at quite a clip.

‘Can we slow down?’ His foot slipped, punctuating his sentence. His elegant Santoni dress shoes obviously didn’t like the snow. Kira wore yellow nylon boots with soles that appeared to bite into the pavement and he was struck by the thought that she wasn’t what he’d expected from a wedding planner.

She was far too grumpy.

‘The tourist information office closes soon and I don’t want to spend all evening looking for a hotel online. Those apps drive me crazy.’

Definitely too grumpy.

He slipped and slid after her, dragging his suitcase. ‘Are you… not having a good day?’

To his surprise, she laughed, a deep, throaty sound with rough edges and a brittle centre. He was so distracted by the texture of the sound that it took a moment for her words to register. ‘You could say that. Weddings are up there with laundry and tax returns in my book – complete hell.’

‘You don’t like doing laundry?’

She glanced back at him as though he had a screw loose. ‘No one likes laundry.’

With a self-conscious hand at his starched, white collar, he dashed after her through the sliding doors.

‘Why do you do this if you hate it so much?’ he couldn’t help asking, struggling to catch his breath.

‘I’m not really a wedding planner,’ was her only response.

‘Huh. Are you kidnapping me, then? Is that what’s going on?’

Her withering sigh was another inexplicably pleasant, textured noise on his skin. ‘You seem very cheerful at the prospect of a kidnapping.’

‘As long as I get some food and rest, I’ll take a kidnapping right now.’ He was drained, strung out and wobbly with the remnants of audition adrenaline in his system and all his mixed feelings about the imminent wedding. Grumpy he could accept right now, as long as she looked after him.

She blinked at him, but her steps slowed. Her eyes were almost the colour of her hair and just as striking. ‘You are one of the strangest people I’ve ever met.’ Her declaration was without the bite of some of the statements he’d heard from her, so it didn’t sting. He rather liked the attention.

‘The feeling is mutual,’ he replied with a grin. ‘I didn’t have a good day either.’

‘All right,’ she said, a perplexed twist in her lips. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

He beamed at her again, disproportionately happy to discover she was capable of sympathy – vindicated even, as he had some instinct telling him she was someone he could trust.

But his smile seemed to dim hers and she turned away. ‘Let’s just find somewhere to stay for tonight.’

‘I promise not to escape,’ he leaned close to say as they approached the counter of the tourist information office.

‘It might be easier if you did,’ she mumbled in reply.

The man behind the counter flicked his gaze from Mattia to Kira as though he were as puzzled as Mattia was about how they’d ended up here.

‘Hi, we need rooms for tonight,’ she said without preamble. ‘Could you help us find something?’ She gave Mattia a measuring glance. ‘Four stars?’

‘Please,’ he added with a smile for the man. Leaning down to Kira, he said through the side of his mouth, ‘I’m not worth five?’

She didn’t even smile. ‘It’s a hotel, not an opera review,’ she replied under her breath, and that gave him a twinge between the ribs as well.

‘It’s a very busy period over Christmas and New Year, but I’m sure I’ll find something,’ the man responded. He tapped away on his computer. ‘You’re in luck! There’s a room showing as available at the Hotel Alpin. Premium double. It includes breakfast.’

Mattia started at the words ‘premium double’. In combination with ‘busy period’, and the prospect was alarming.

Kira straightened. ‘ Two rooms?’

‘I’m sorry? I don’t understand,’ the man said, his smile slipping.

‘We need two rooms. For two people,’ she explained through gritted teeth.

‘Oh, I see,’ the man said stiltedly, although his puzzled gaze suggested otherwise. ‘There are four of you.’

The pressure of the auditions, the performance, the impending wedding too much to hold in, Mattia burst out laughing. Leaning heavily on the counter, he shook with it, hunger and exhaustion rolling over him along with amusement.

‘We’re not a couple,’ Kira said tightly, and laughter rose up his throat again.

‘Oh, I’m—’ The man behind the counter flushed. ‘That makes more sense. I shouldn’t have assumed— I mean, most people who come in together are— But I couldn’t work out how the two of you, looking like that?—’

The man realised a few seconds too late that he should have stopped talking several sentences ago. Mattia could almost see the sparks leaping from Kira’s gaze.

He shrugged. ‘You never know. I suppose we could have been… lovers.’

‘We definitely could not have been!’ She glowed when she was worked up. It was rather fascinating.

‘Let me see if I can find a hotel with two rooms,’ the man at the desk hurriedly interrupted. ‘Hotel Alpin unfortunately doesn’t. Ah, if you don’t mind something close to the station here, rather than in the city, then I’ve found?—’

‘That’s fine. Can you book it please?’

‘Eh,’ Mattia interrupted, the reality of sleeping in a strange hotel room settling over him. He was too close to the edge as it was and he needed to keep a lid on his anxiety until the wedding. ‘Are the windows insulated at least?’

Kira rolled her eyes and tapped her nails – bitten short and without polish – on the counter.

‘I’m certain they will be,’ the man assured him in an indulgent tone that convinced Mattia of the opposite.

‘We can go and see, I suppose,’ he said in a forlorn mutter.

When they finally walked back out into the forecourt, Mattia shuddered at the sudden cold, but Kira made no move to put her beanie back on. She ran a hand through her hair as though she wanted to tug out a tuft of it.

‘High maintenance indeed,’ she muttered under her breath.

He should probably tell her about his hearing, as a warning and an excuse for his behaviour, but she kept speaking before he had the chance.

‘“Lovers”? Really? Was that necessary?’

‘No,’ he admitted as soberly as he could, which wasn’t particularly sober, as he was still tickled by the misunderstanding.

‘You’re not exactly my type. You’re wearing more make-up than I am!’