Page 49 of Snowed In with You

‘That’s not a question.’

Lucy laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘Pedantry is NOT sexy, just so you know.’

‘I disagree,’ said Nate, shaking his head. ‘I’ve sat in lots of meetings where you’re being a massive pedant, and I find it incredibly sexy.’

Lucy’s mind boggled at the idea of Nate even looking at her in meetings, never mind thinking she was sexy. ‘OK, fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll be more specific. Do you have a girlfriend or not?’

‘No,’ said Nate. ‘Not . . . currently. I’m working on it.’

‘OK, that’s a weird answer.’

‘It’s true. I don’t officially have a girlfriend. Nobody is going to turn up at your door with a shotgun.’

What about unofficially? thought Lucy. She considered telling him that she’d seen him with Sasha at the hotel, but him questioning why she was lurking in corridors and peering around corners was guaranteed to kill what was left of the mood. ‘I just . . . I just want to be sure we both understand what this is. And that I’m not treading on anyone’s toes.’

Nate smiled and took her hand again. ‘You’re definitely not. Do you want me to sign some release forms?’

Lucy pulled a face. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Then please let me kiss you,’ whispered Nate, leaning closer. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really, really long time.’

‘Really?’ asked Lucy, the word catching in her throat.

‘Yes,’ said Nate, leaning in a little further. ‘I was too scared to tell you. But now I’m not.’ His lips touched hers, and it felt like a wave of electricity from the tips of Lucy’s toes to the roots of her hair. She locked into the moment, feeling every inch of Nate’s desire moving into her space, but determined to take it slowly and savour every second. He kissed her harder, his hands trailing down her back and under the hem of her pyjama top.

‘Oh God,’ whispered Lucy as Nate’s warm fingers on her skin set off a whole box of fireworks in her chest. She yanked off the pyjama top and pulled him back onto the bed, frantically trying to loosen the towel from around his waist so she could feel all of him against her. There was a small pop from the plug on the airbed, then a hiss as the mattress slowly started to deflate. They both stared at each other as the bed gently lowered them to the floor like the world’s slowest lift.

‘This is . . . not ideal,’ said Nate, turning onto his back as the mattress continued to hiss and fart out the remaining air.

‘Shall we relocate to yours?’ suggested Lucy, as her backside slowly sank into the wooden floor.

‘No,’ said Nate, turning back to kiss her neck and trail his hands across her stomach. ‘Then we’ll have to pump them both up later, which I absolutely can’t be arsed to do.’

Lucy laughed, then gasped as his hands trailed lower. It didn’t matter if this seduction scene wasn’t movie-perfect; it was absolutely in keeping with the drunk, chaotic madness of the day. Being here with Nate felt like a blissful release from the stress and uncertainty of their situation, and the only thing she was absolutely certain of right now was that she wanted to be with him in this useless shitshow of a bed. Not as a boyfriend, not for deep and meaningful conversations over nightcaps at 3 a.m., but just for them to be naked and alone together in this moment.

Nate drew away and paused for a moment, pulling back the duvet and drinking in her naked body. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered, the words catching in his throat. The heat of his desire could have melted the entire mountain, and Lucy couldn’t wait any longer. The towel disappeared, and now it was just her hands in his hair and his fingers carving a trail on her spine and his raw, urgent breathing and the taste of his lips, like wine and smoke and pure lust. When they finally came together it was nothing like the romantic seduction she imagined Nate favoured; it was a sweaty, potent coupling in a frantic and urgent tangle of limbs. Lucy tried not to cry out as Nate’s tongue and fingers ravaged her all at once, but it was so intense, so incredibly fucking incredible, that she had to clamp her lips together so as not to let the entire house know that, right now, she and Nate had found each other and nothing else mattered.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When Lucy woke up the next morning, both beds had deflated, and Nate wasn’t in either of them. She lay in the dark stillness of the attic for a moment, taking an inventory of the state of her compound hangovers, and all the bruises she’d incurred from hours of rolling around on a wooden floor. Her head felt pretty OK, all things considered, but her knees felt like they might never recover.

It was definitely worth it, she mused, wondering if it would be considered bad form to grab another three-minute shower. Surely they’d be getting off this mountain today? She took a moment to work out what day it was, and eventually came to the conclusion that it was Sunday. Her flight back to Bristol was booked for this afternoon, and presumably if they were rescued this morning that would still go ahead. She could be in her bathtub back in her flat by the end of the day, then relaxing in her lavish superking bed. She even remembered to change the sheets before she left, just in case she fancied putting a call in to Marco or Anthony on the way back. Occasionally she went to one of their places, but she preferred it if they came to her. Neither of them lived like pigs, but her flat was guaranteed to be spotlessly tidy and she could vouch for the sheets being clean.

Talking of being clean, where were her clothes? She remembered washing them, but then what? The realisation dawned that she’d come straight upstairs after her shower in a state of sexual anticipation, and forgotten to go down and hang them up in front of the fire before she fell asleep. She reached over and clicked on the torch, and sure enough, there was a mound of damp clothes by the wall, probably permanently staining the wooden floor. She sighed, wondering if Chantal had some things she could borrow, then she could take her wet stuff home in a plastic bag. Or actually just throw them in the nearest bin.

How will last night change things between Nate and I? she wondered. She’d definitely be leaving Switzerland with a very different impression of Nate to the one she’d had when she arrived. Was that going to make office encounters awkward? Probably, but they were both adults, and if he could hide a relationship with a member of senior management, he could definitely hide a one-night stand with Lucy. He’d go back to whatever his thing was with Sasha, she’d go back to Anthony and Marco, and this would become a memory of a thing that happened in a crazy and surreal situation.

Why hadn’t he told her he had a girlfriend? The most obvious answer was that his relationship with Sasha was just a casual one, like she had with Anthony and Marco. So he wasn’t answerable to her, and could do what he wanted. The alternative was that they were a couple but it was an open relationship, the rules of which might compel him to tell Sasha that he and Lucy had slept together. This idea was less palatable, but that wasn’t her decision to make.

She wondered what time it was, and whether Nate might be interested in another roll around on this hard floor before breakfast. What were a few more bruises between friends? He’d been something of a revelation, in the end – not as much of a virtuoso as Anthony, or as romantic as Marco, but something else entirely. Parts of it had been tender and intimate; the kind of sex you have with someone you know inside and out and feel entirely at ease with. Other parts had been unexpected and fearless and had taken her breath away, quite literally. The idea of doing it again, but sober this time, was actually very appealing.

Nate reappeared up the stairs, and Lucy could see in the murky light that he was carrying two cups of coffee. He sat cross-legged on the edge of her deflated mattress and put the two mugs on the floor next to her, taking the opportunity to drop a kiss on her forehead as he leaned over. It felt like such a familiar, domestic gesture, like there was no awkwardness or regret on his part. There was none on Lucy’s, obviously, but she’d half-expected Nate to be spinning out about the impulsive, terrible thing they’d done.

‘You’ve had another shower,’ said Lucy, noting that his hair was wet and he smelled of citrus and toothpaste.

‘I have,’ said Nate. ‘Monica was hovering outside, so I made it quick. Didn’t want her to think I was . . . you know.’

‘You know . . . what?’ asked Lucy, entirely confused.