Page 11 of Cold and Bitter Snow

“But you weren’t before.”

“You didn’t seem surprised to hear I was in the Army.”

She felt herself blush. “I might have checked you out last week after we met. As part of my research, you understand.”

“Of course.” He smiled softly, and again, his face lit up. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight.”

She was going to say no but ended up nodding instead.

“Okay.”

Surviving an avalanche deserves a celebration of sorts.

His eyebrows went up in surprise—she wasn’t sure whether at the fact he’d asked, or at the fact she’d said yes.

Chapter 4

Conor

“You sure you don’t want the raclette?” Laurie, their server, asked.

Even after two years in this country Conor still didn’t get the Swiss obsession with eating old cheese. He waited for Siena to reply before saying anything.

“Not for me, thank you, Laurie.”

Conor was surprised Siena knew the server’s name. As far as he knew she’d only been in town a couple weeks and he was pretty sure Laurie hadn’t shared her name with him until the end of his first season in Le Miroir.

“Something lighter,” Siena continued. Conor’s heart sank. If there was one thing that appealed to him less than raclette, that was the thought of watching a woman pick at a salad while he ate a real meal. “Maybe one of your famous burgers?”

Something lighter?

He laughed. “Make that two, Laurie, please. Extra cornichons on mine.”

Siena wrinkled her nose. “What are those? I’ll have some as well as long as they’re not onions.”

“Pickles.”

“I like pickles.”

“I’ll be right back with those. I hear you two had an exciting morning up there.”

Laurie made it sound like they’d been having sex in a gondola lift, rather than caught in an avalanche. He reminded himself that avalanches were not that uncommon in Le Miroir—locals like Laurie had heard of much worse than what had happened to them this morning.

“I was lucky Conor was there,” Siena said simply. She stared at his hands, which he’d taped as best he could to cover the cuts.

Conor nodded stiffly. He’d helped her out, but he would have done the same thing for anyone else. He didn’t want her constantly thinking about it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I just don’t want you to think I invited you out to dinner so you could thank me again. I hope that’s not why you—”

“It’s not why I said yes,” she interrupted. “But to tell you the truth, I don’t even know why I did. I wrote off men twenty-three days ago. Not necessarily forever, don’t get me wrong, but certainly for the rest of this horrid year.”

“It’s not even the end of January,” he remarked.

“My point precisely. I figured I wouldn’t date anyone until next calendar year at least.” She paused for a moment, then continued faster. “Not that I’m assuming this is a date. You didn’t say date. You just said dinner.”

“I meant for it to be a date,” he said, surprised again when the words rushed out of his mouth.