Page 5 of A Winter Wedding Adventure (Adventure Weddings #2)

Kira swallowed a groan at this new setback. She wondered what could be wrong with the room. Any hotel was the height of luxury to her: crisp sheets and an ensuite bathroom, when she was used to musty dorms with twenty other unwashed bodies up a mountain somewhere.

‘I know you’ll think I’m a prima donna, but I really can’t sleep here. The fridge… It hums.’ His throat bobbed and despite Kira’s gnawing stomach and the haze of frustration, she noted the irregular rise and fall of his chest.

‘Are you all right?’

His first response was a wobble on his feet and Kira kicked herself for asking.

‘I— Ehm…’ He rummaged in the pockets of his long coat, tugging out a pack of lozenges, a leather card purse, a ring which he slipped onto his little finger, some sweet wrappers, several receipts – and finally a small bottle.

Spraying a puff into his mouth, he sucked in a purposeful breath and released it slowly, along with the scent of citrus and herbs.

With one final rummage, he frowned and peered at the door he’d just emerged through. ‘I locked myself out.’ His eyes slammed shut. So much drama in a single face. When his eyes blinked open again, Kira jumped. ‘Can I use your shower?’ he asked.

‘Uh…’

Not waiting for her answer, he stalked down the hall, his coat billowing. Hurrying ahead of him, she reached her door and fumbled for her keycard, shooting a wary glance at him. There was a lick of sweat at his temple.

He all but tumbled into her room, glancing around as though he expected something to jump out at him.

‘Here, I’ll get you a towel,’ she said, dropping her voice smoothly, purposefully.

His gaze settled on her and she knew she was right. He wasn’t a prima donna. He was on the edge of an anxiety episode.

‘You know, I—’ she began carefully, ‘I should apologise. I lied about your performance. I found it… touching.’

‘You did?’ A flicker of delight crossed his features and Kira stifled a sigh – of relief, of perplexity. How this man existed in the harsh realities of the human world, she had no idea.

‘What piece was it?’ she prompted him.

‘“Dio, che nell’alma infondere ” .’ Just saying the title, his words took on rhythm, texture – strength.

‘What’s it from?’

‘ Don Carlo . Giuseppe Verdi.’

‘Was I imagining it, or was the other guy in love with his own mother? I thought it was Greek tragedies that were screwed up.’

The corners of his lips turned up. ‘No, the woman he loved married his father. Instead of him.’

‘ Shit .’ No wonder there had been so much drama. ‘You’re going to play a part in the performance next year?’

Wrong question. He froze up. ‘I just—’ He gestured wildly at the shower. ‘Give me a minute.’ Snatching the towel out of her hands, he bolted for the bathroom, leaving Kira blinking after him.

‘I’ll just go get you another keycard,’ she called through the door.

The only response was the soothing splash of the water in the shower.

* * *

Kira sank onto the single bed in her room ten minutes later, a replacement keycard for Mattia on her desk, her thoughts scrambled.

She’d taken it in her stride – or at least with a bit of grace – that she now had to help run weddings, as well as coaching her climbing groups and leading adventure holidays.

But listening to a baby-faced operatic baritone rattle the panes of the shower stall with his powerful melodies while he recovered from a mild anxiety episode – in her bathroom – was beyond what she’d ever thought she’d have to deal with.

She should have guessed he’d sing in the shower.

He spoke in such soft, measured tones, his face light, his shoulders hunched and unassuming.

But his voice when he sang… She could feel the adrenaline bursting out of him.

She was convinced he was in there throwing his hands up in triumph or despair, his face alive with second-hand emotions as the water sluiced over his chest. It was tempting to peek in and see if she was right, except…

The water-sluicing thing she could picture in a little too much detail, and she wasn’t supposed to be noticing these things about a client who was probably a good stretch too young for her anyway – among a host of other reasons.

She jumped when her phone rang, although it wasn’t a surprise when she saw the caller ID. It was Ginny, and Kira was technically still at work, even though her work was currently twenty-four-seven and the client was naked in her shower.

‘Hey,’ she said, connecting the call. She liked Ginny, even though she was too optimistic about everything to be trusted. The labret piercing below her lip hinted at a streak of rebellion that Kira hadn’t seen yet, but she hoped it was alive and well.

‘How’s everything going? Did you find a hotel? I was worried everything would be booked out at this time of year,’ Ginny asked, at a mile-a-minute as usual. ‘Alessandra is super protective of her friend, like you might accidentally break him or something.’

Kira smiled faintly, grateful he was only humming softly at the moment, rather than bellowing his vibrato-laden operatic vowels. ‘He’s a bit… particular, but you can tell her not to worry. I’ve got it in hand.’

As if on cue, he broke into a new melody, something drawn-out and aching, and Kira’s stomach dropped.

‘Is that… him singing?’ Ginny asked, her voice high.

‘He’s in the shower.’

Ginny’s spluttering would have been funny in other circumstances. ‘In your room?’

She couldn’t exactly explain that he’d invited himself into her room so he could have his hot, water-sluicing shower and calm down, even as Kira got worked up.

‘He locked his keycard in his room.’

‘Ohhh-kaaaayyyy,’ came Ginny’s amused response.

‘It’s probably best not to tell Alessandra any of this. I will have your tenor – I mean baritone – delivered in good time for the wedding and there’s no need to worry.’

‘What’s the difference between a tenor and a baritone?’ Ginny asked in a stage whisper.

‘Damned if I know.’

‘But the “delivery” is why I’m calling. Katy, the manager here at our cabin, told me there’s a weather warning for all of Tyrol for heavy snow tomorrow.’

Unease prickled in her stomach. As a climber, she had a healthy respect for the weather, but this wasn’t a climb. ‘I can drive in snow. We might be delayed, but we should get through,’ she assured Ginny. ‘Besides, what’s the other option? Holing up here for another day?’

‘The wedding isn’t until Wednesday,’ Ginny pointed out. ‘You have four days.’

‘I’m supposed to take a group ski touring on Tuesday and besides, if the snow is bad enough to cause disruption on the roads, then I should try to get there as soon as possible. I’d rather be stranded with the wedding party than here?—’

Another dramatic crescendo sounded from the bathroom and Kira stifled a laugh.

‘Just don’t take any risks,’ Ginny warned her. ‘ You probably have wild insurance, but if we damage his vocal chords… At the very least, Alessandra will never forgive me.’

‘They’re very close, apparently.’

‘And the groom doesn’t seem to like him much, either,’ Ginny added. ‘I’m wondering if he’s an ex.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Kira reassured her. She might have slept with a friend or two in her time, but not one she’d known that long. ‘But what happened to your golden rule of weddings?’

‘Meh.’ Ginny gave an audible shrug. ‘This isn’t getting emotionally involved. It’s just being nosy. You have your rock faces; I have my juicy wedding gossip. We’re both thrill-seekers,’ she said with a giggle.

Wedding gossip certainly wasn’t Kira’s idea of a thrill, especially not when it involved the surprising man booming out opera in her shower.

‘Ginny, how old is Alessandra?’ she asked before she could stop herself.

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Just curious.’ About whether she’d been checking out a guy old enough to be her… much younger brother.

‘She’s twenty-nine. The same age as me, actually.’

If Kira had been listening, she might have noticed Ginny’s rueful tone. But instead, she was comforting herself with the knowledge that Mattia was probably twenty-seven, twenty-six at a pinch. A four or five years’ age difference wasn’t morally grey. She could forgive herself the ogling.

Although she shouldn’t be appreciating a client that way.

Andreas had done that: fallen for a woman on a two-week adventure trip.

Eight years of heartache later, they’d only just sorted themselves out and got engaged, as much as the thought of her rugged mountaineer best friend getting married freaked Kira out.

Urgh, weddings . She couldn’t think of anything worse than standing in front of a crowd in an enormous dress and a hairstyle that was a work of art, swallowing her pride and making a declaration of the most foolish and embarrassing feature of the human condition – love .

And unfortunately, she knew what she was talking about.

‘I hope you found something nice to wear, anyway,’ Ginny continued, her tone cautious. ‘They’re super well-dressed Italians and there’s a total aesthetic going on here and…’

‘I’ve got the message, Ginny,’ Kira said with a snort. ‘Loud and clear. I’ll make sure when I turn up tomorrow that I look vaguely presentable.’ Vaguely .

‘And you remember the golden rule of weddings too,’ Ginny said. ‘ Don’t get emotionally involved .’

Kira snorted. ‘Do you even know me?’ But she winced, glad Ginny couldn’t see her shooting a glance at the bathroom door. She was not emotionally involved. Just a little… sympathetic.

‘Stay safe, anyway,’ Ginny interrupted her thoughts.

‘I always do. I’ll see you tomorrow, although it might be late if Snowmageddon really hits.’

‘Oh, please don’t say the word “Snowmageddon”. This chalet is cosy and gorgeous, but “Which family member would you eat first?” is not a question we ask during pre-marital counselling.’

‘Don’t you have a bride to fuss over or a family skeleton to shove back in the closet?’

‘They haven’t eaten anyone yet !’

‘Bye!’ Kira said pointedly, peering at the phone with a perplexed smile. Ginny’s crooked sense of humour seemed a strange trait for a bubbly wedding planner.

Her stomach protested keenly when she stood, now so catastrophically empty that it whimpered instead of growling. Hobbling to the entry and snatching her coat from the hook, she knocked on the bathroom door.

‘Mattia?’

The low, stony line he’d been singing petered out.

‘I’m going to get some food. Do you have any… sensitivities?’ Her word choice struck her.

The door flew open, startling a squeal out of her. And then her vocal chords – and most of her synapses – gave out entirely.

His hair formed wild, sodden curls around his face.

His shoulders were even broader than they’d looked in his dapper coat, bony and glistening, the water highlighting dips and rises.

A gold chain hung around his neck with a small pendant.

He didn’t have the sculpted torso of a climber.

There was even a little softness around his middle.

But half-naked, precariously covered by a towel he held bunched just below his belly button, he made Kira think of intimacy and touch – vulnerability, closeness.

Her brain was such a mess. And Mattia was cute, standing there, dripping, in the doorway, his chest rising and falling. She wondered what he would look like singing without a shirt on. She’d like to see that – as would probably a whole auditorium of opera fans.

‘Why do you have blue hair?’

His blurted question snapped her out of her meandering, inappropriate thoughts. ‘What?’ She was too hungry to keep up.

‘The colour matches your eyes.’

Heat rushed up her throat. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Oh, I—’ The fist gripping the towel squeezed reflexively. ‘Sorry, I was just wondering – thinking about…’

Me, while you’re in the shower . Kira choked back that thought. Clearing her throat, she forced her gaze up to find him regarding her with his head at an angle. He looked much better – colour in his cheeks and the brightness back in his eyes.

‘I dyed my hair blue because I felt like it. Because I don’t care,’ she admitted.

‘About your appearance?’

‘What other people think of my appearance,’ she clarified.

He gave a thoughtful nod. ‘Thank you – for the shower.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘Oh, I got you another keycard.’ Hauling in a much-needed breath after she’d stepped away, Kira kicked herself for her slightly wobbly legs as she fetched the card.

‘Would you mind getting my suitcase? The fridge—’ He gestured to his ear with a grimace.

‘Sure. Give me a sec.’

Escaping down the hall, she entered his dark room and immediately noticed the low hum of the mini-bar fridge. She never would have registered the sound if he hadn’t mentioned it. With a deep sigh, she fumbled behind the desk until she found the plug and yanked it out. The room fell eerily silent.

Rolling his suitcase back down the hall, she knocked on the door and braced herself for the view of all that skin once more. But she hadn’t prepared herself for his wide smile. He was too much – of everything. There wasn’t enough air in this hotel.

‘I’ll just get dressed,’ he said quickly. ‘And then can we go back to the Christmas market to eat? It was so beautiful and I didn’t get a chance to enjoy it. If we’re stuck here, we might as well make the most of it.’

His expression was adorably earnest, but Kira was starving .

‘Please? We can get a cab back there. I can get dressed quickly.’

She couldn’t exactly say no. ‘Don’t you need to take your time putting your make-up on?’

‘I don’t wear make-up unless I’m performing,’ he said with a pout, working out only belatedly that she’d been joking. ‘But I could put some eyeliner on, if you like it,’ he teased her back. ‘I promise I’ll be quick.’

‘You know how good you look in eyeliner,’ she grumbled as she took her coat from its hook, pausing when she realised what she’d said aloud. She risked a glance to find him biting his lip over a grin, his cheeks pink.

‘I’m going to remember you said that.’ His tone was light, with a breathy laugh of disbelief.

‘I’ll see you downstairs.’ Shoving her hands in her pockets, she stomped in the direction of the lift, whirling around when she thought of one last thing. ‘Oh, I heard the fridge in your room.’

His head appeared around the door-frame, a droplet of water catching the light as it fell from one of his curls. ‘You did?’

‘I pulled the plug out. It’s switched off now.’

She didn’t think she’d ever been rewarded with such a captivating smile for something so simple.