Chapter 4
4
Sophie lasted about one minute before she decided she really needed tea. Persuading herself it wasn’t snooping, she opened the plywood cupboards of the kitchenette one after another, finding an opened box of instant mashed potato, a pile of energy bars and a hunk of vacuum-packed preserved meat – but no tea. Her hand shook concerningly as she closed the final cupboard.
She jumped when the door banged open, and then she froze. Andreas stalked back into the room, avoiding her gaze. His hair was dripping and the scent of herbal soap finally provided relief for her nose, but the rest of her was far from relieved.
He clutched his towel tightly around his waist, but he was otherwise completely naked, all golden skin and brawn and scars. His chest rose and fell with agitated breaths, drawing her eyes to the play of muscle and sinew, the dips and contours of a body honed for resilience and strength. When he turned away to rifle in his wardrobe, even the bunch-and-release of muscles in his back was hypnotic. Whatever his – many – flaws, Andreas Hinterdorfer still had the most incredible body she’d ever laid eyes on.
With a rush of embarrassment to her hairline, she remembered all the ways she’d shown her admiration for that body when they’d been together. That had been what he’d wanted from her after all. She’d just been too na?ve to see it – and she’d somehow convinced herself she loved the rest of him too.
She forced her gaze down and that was when she caught sight of his feet: pale, lightly freckled and missing the two smallest toes on the right. She swallowed.
‘You might want to turn around,’ he called over his shoulder, his voice gravelly.
She whirled around so quickly that she had to grasp the Formica bench for balance. She wasn’t sure if he meant it for his benefit or hers. She’d certainly seen it all before and he’d never had a problem with nudity. She remembered him leaping into the turquoise water of a tiny lake somewhere in the Dolomites, his naked body little more than a blur with the jaw-dropping backdrop of granite mountain peaks.
‘I was looking for tea,’ she said curtly, tumbling back into the present.
‘I don’t have any. And if I did, I wouldn’t have any milk.’
His gruff words only reminded her that there’d been a time when he’d kept teabags in his room just for her, milk in the mini-fridge.
‘If you want this over with quickly, you could start talking. I will help you if I can.’
She turned without thinking, whipping back around when she caught sight of him tugging a shirt down over his chest, snug boxer shorts the only thing he wore below the waist. The worst part was the pang of familiarity. She shouldn’t have remembered the feel of him in such detail.
But she’d been young and impressionable and… he’d made an impression.
‘When did you become a wedding planner? I thought you loved being a travel agent.’ His tone had thankfully eased to nonchalant, rather than barbed.
‘It’s not much of a leap,’ she said. ‘We’re not a traditional wedding planning agency. We organise destination weddings – all the travel arrangements as well.’
‘And your current clients want to get married in the Himalayas?’
This time when she turned, he was thankfully decent – although still buttoning his supple jeans. But the tight T-shirt from an outdoor brand did little to hide the tough shape of him and when he slipped a patterned woollen sweater over the top, he looked cosier than her favourite sofa.
‘It’s not as bad as the Himalayas. They’re outdoor types and they want to get married at the top of a mountain – a symbolic commitment ceremony.’
‘A… “symbolic commitment ceremony”?’ He wiped a hand over his mouth, muffling his next words, although she nonetheless heard, ‘What’s the fucking point?’
‘It’s one of the options we’ve developed over the years to deal with the bureaucratic challenges of getting married in another country. Some people call it an elopement ceremony. I officiate myself – I mean, I’ve qualified as a celebrant here in the UK as well—’ She took a deep breath to stop the words awkwardly flowing out of her mouth. ‘Look, it’s the client’s wish and there’s no need to disparage them because they’re trying to make their wedding day meaningful. I would have thought you’d understand the allure of a mountain summit.’
‘Yes, but not to get married up there!’
Her nostrils flared as he ran an agitated hand through his hair. ‘Why not? Their relationship means to them what your expeditions mean to you.’
When he laughed, there was a darkness in the sound that made her uneasy. ‘Marriage is endurance? Obsession? Pushing the limits of human strength – sometimes too far?’
Her skin prickled. ‘Marriage can be about endurance, yes.’ Hers certainly had been. ‘It’s not all easy. And pushing the limits of the human heart . When you take a look at all the horrible things people do to each other, I think marriage is a kind of miracle.’
He released a huff of disbelief that didn’t seem entirely voluntary. ‘What do you know about marriage?’ He couldn’t conceal his searching glance at her hands.
She tucked her left hand into the crook of her right elbow. Sometimes, the ring finger still felt unnaturally bare. ‘This isn’t about me. The top of a mountain is the last place I’d like to get married and their plans for a week of wedding festivities involving windsurfing and rock climbing is my idea of hell. But the client is always right and that is why I need a guide. It doesn’t have to be you. If you can point out a few places for me to check out, then maybe Kira can help during the actual wedding?—’
‘You’ll need more than one guide. Who’s going to keep Aunt Frieda safe?’
‘I’m pretty sure Aunt Frieda won’t be coming,’ she said with a frown. ‘It’s a small wedding – destination weddings usually are.’
‘At Lake Garda, a place I know very well. I’m surprised you didn’t suggest the Eggental in South Tyrol,’ he grumbled.
Irritation flashed up her throat. ‘Why would I, when I didn’t know you were still working here and I’ve never been to your home? Even when we were together.’ That word ‘together’ hung awkwardly in the air when she uttered it. ‘Lake Garda is a very popular wedding destination and I didn’t even know you take groups there every year. This isn’t some elaborate plot to rub your nose in weddings. I learned my lesson. I will never propose to a man ever again in my entire life. I have not been pining for you for eight years and I don’t know why the memory even registers with you when you have obviously made an exception to your “no family” rule for your best friend’s widow!’
Ohhhhh, shit. The man made her lose her marbles. If there was one thing you could say to convince someone you’d been pining for them for eight years, it was to deny that you’d been pining for them for eight years.
‘What are you talking about?’ he asked peevishly. ‘If we need to go over what happened back then?—’
‘We don’t.’ Ever .
‘Thank God for that. And if you’re implying that there’s something between Toni and me aside from deep, old friendship, then have the courage to accuse me clearly.’
The steam dissipated from around Sophie’s head. How was he suddenly the reasonable one? She opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Andreas seemed to take that as an invitation to continue.
‘Miro was my best friend.’ His voice had hardened. ‘I left a piece of myself on Gasherbrum. I thought you would understand that more than most. I’m Cillian’s godfather and when I’m in Weymouth, I teach him to climb – in honour of Miro and also in case he ever gets it in his mind to go up like his Papa. So yes, Toni is family in a way I… didn’t necessarily plan. But I haven’t taken Miro’s place in her life – in her bed , which was what you were implying, wasn’t it?’
‘I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.’
‘No, it’s not,’ he agreed emphatically, rummaging in a drawer for a pair of socks and tugging them on, the second over his damaged right foot.
‘When Reshma first mentioned consolidating the admin functions, I honestly didn’t know it was Toni’s job we were talking about.’
‘I believe you.’
‘And I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I suppose I thought, since your climbing brotherhood is stronger than anything else, it might have happened. I hope Toni’s been doing okay.’
‘I don’t really want to talk about it,’ he said stiffly. Wasn’t that just typical? Andreas was invincible – or at least he thought he was. He would never admit how much the loss had hurt.
Rolling his shoulders, he stretched his neck from side to side in a movement that sent another shiver of recognition through Sophie. There had been a time when she would have offered to massage his shoulders and stroke her fingertips along his neck to soothe the ache. His muscles would be tight and thick and he’d sigh and groan when she dug her fingers in and then he’d give her a groggy smile and a sloppy kiss in thanks – and then tumble into bed to sleep for eighteen hours straight.
Although a reluctant smile tugged at her lips, she had to wonder why she’d been so caught up in him. Climbers were their own unique kind.
‘So, Lake Garda,’ he said, changing the subject. He stalked to the sink and filled a glass, glugging half of it. ‘There are a lot of summits to choose from, most of them probably reachable for a small group. How are you going to choose? What’s important to them? I can’t promise to be there for the wedding, but I can help you plan something.’
‘I have no idea, to be honest,’ she answered quietly.
‘You said they want a week of activities? Bachelor party? Hen do? That stuff I’m familiar with.’
‘Something like that, yes.’
All he had to do was glance at her for her to feel utterly incompetent. He leaned heavily on his tatty kitchen bench. Outside the single window with its faded curtain, the sky had darkened to slate. ‘This needs more than an hour, Sophie.’
Her hair stood on end to hear her name on his lips, the ‘o’ sound chewed and the ‘s’ a little sharp in his light accent.
‘Do you want me to come to Bath next week? Meet with the couple?’
No, she didn’t. Not if he was going to look all tired and real and make her feel something. She groped for her handbag, where she’d set it on the bed.
‘Maybe this is a bad idea. In fact, it definitely won’t work. You and weddings? It’s obvious you don’t want to and I don’t want to force you.’
‘Sophie,’ he said again, his tone more insistent this time and she had to look at him. Bad idea. He was searching her expression for the source of her agitation. ‘I’m sorry I was rude before.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘Can you let me apologise?’
She didn’t want to. He was supposed to be the bad guy in her past.
‘For today,’ he clarified, as though she’d thought he’d apologise for turning her down eight years ago. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you.’
‘It was awkward. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend… any of it.’
His strong brow was low over his eyes. He looked as though he might argue with her for a moment, but then he gave a shrug. ‘I know.’
Her phone rang and she fumbled for it, seeing Reshma’s name flash up with a mixture of relief and dangerous disappointment.
‘Are you ready to go?’ her boss asked when the call connected. ‘I can pick you up from wherever that Italian mountain guide squirrelled you away to.’ The amusement in her voice was clear – and something for Sophie to subtly discourage without piquing Reshma’s curiosity.
‘I’ll meet you at Great Heart.’
* * *
After Reshma navigated out of Weymouth and onto the A-road, Sophie pressed her lips together and tried to ignore the impression that her boss was counting down to an interrogation. The silence barely lasted until Dorchester.
‘Did you get some advice for the Tran-Welbon wedding?’
‘Enough to know it’s even more complicated than I’d imagined.’ And that was just her feelings.
‘The merger isn’t quite finalised, but it won’t be long. I want you to do extra research for this one. Since adding the section to our website, I’ve already had five enquiries. This won’t be the last “adventure wedding” at Lake Garda; we’ll need a comprehensive file.’
‘You put the package up on the website already?’
Reshma continued, undeterred by Sophie’s concern. ‘Willard – Mr Coombs – mentioned that Andreas usually spends April and part of May in Italy for the ski touring season, but after that, I want him to take you to Lake Garda for research. I’m hoping he’ll agree to participate in the wedding itself in September, but I don’t want to scare him off.’
Her boss chuckled, probably remembering Andreas’s horrified look at the prospect of a wedding.
Sophie didn’t respond – she couldn’t. Her stomach was churning and it took all her effort not to get a similar horrified look on her own face.
‘Willard thought you’d be able to get him on board.’
‘He did?’ she squeaked.
‘I didn’t realise you’d met Willard.’
As long as she didn’t realise how well she knew Andreas – had known Andreas. ‘I told you, I went on a couple of trips with Great Heart years ago. My sister is outdoorsy and she dragged me into it.’
‘Ahhhh,’ Reshma said, drawing out the sound for much longer than Sophie’s explanation warranted. Reshma glanced at her, the glint in her eye making Sophie squirm. ‘Let me guess. Your guide was Andreas? That explains a lot. Willard said you knew each other and it was obvious there was… something missing from my understanding of the situation.’
Sophie gulped.
‘Is this going to be a problem?’ Reshma’s voice gentled. ‘Sophie, I won’t encourage you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.’
Lord, was she uncomfortable, but Andreas wasn’t entirely to blame for that. ‘There’s no problem,’ she grated out. ‘But I don’t know why Willard thought I’d be able to convince him. I’m the last person…’
‘There is some history between you two?’
‘Some,’ she admitted. ‘But I was young and stupid and it was a long time ago.’
‘You can’t have been too stupid. I wondered whether we’d have to fear for our brides with that man joining the team.’
‘Reshma! You did not just say that! Besides, I’m sure he’ll never join the team.’
‘A pity. He’d look amazing in a suit. But first, we need that Garda adventure weddings file and our first event to be a success. Let me know if you need any support on this, but I have every confidence in you.’
Sophie stared miserably out of the window as drops of rain dribbled down the pane. She was so far out of her comfort zone that even Reshma’s confidence wouldn’t help her. Only Andreas could do that and it was another thing to resent him for.