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Alessio didn’t make an appearance when she ventured out of her room and, unable to sit still with her senses jumping over the nerve-shredding situation she found herself in, she toured the rest of the chalet.
It was much bigger than she’d initially realised.
Besides the kitchen and dining areas, she discovered another, larger living room towards the back of the chalet, complete with two fireplaces, enough seating for a very large gathering, and—breathtaking enough to stop her in her tracks—a white ceiling-grazing Christmas tree, decorated exclusively with dark gold and the occasional dark green ornaments she was certain didn’t come from a high-street department store.
Venturing closer, she noticed that the larger adornments contained small velvet boxes with discreet designer labels of famous jewellers giving a strong hint as to their contents.
Giada’s eyes widened as she skirted the base, quickly losing count of how many such baubles graced the stunning tree. Over the mantelpieces was even more jaw-dropping opulence, little expensive gifts cleverly hidden within the strings of Swarovski crystals expertly trailed through the holly wreaths and the remaining decorations.
Had she been here under other circumstances, she would’ve been thrilled to explore some more. But Giada couldn’t stem the trepidation pulsing through her and the one thought pounding in her brain.
She was stuck here with Alessio Montaldi. No end in sight.
The thought eventually drove her back to her bedroom, frantically looking for a way out. All that greeted her when she looked out of the window was the last snow dump two hours ago, and the promise of more in the laden skies resting over the valley.
A sound of apprehension-laced frustration erupted before she could quell it. Which made her berate herself. Since when did she dissolve into a helpless puddle at the first sign of adversity?
Since you were locked in with a man who makes your pulse skitter like loose marbles tossed on a stone floor!
Enough.
Going to her suitcase, she dug out her phone, a pang of regret piercing her. She should’ve texted Gigi last night instead of playing it extra safe. Powering it up, she paced her room, praying for a single bar.
After a futile half-hour, she gave up and turned it off again.
Before she’d put it away, the butterflies were kicking around again, her senses jumping. She discovered the reason why when she stepped out of her room and found Alessio in the hallway.
He’d showered and changed, but evidently it’d done nothing to ease the stark displeasure etched into his face.
She’d known she couldn’t avoid him for ever, much as she wished to. But knowing didn’t prepare her for coming face to face with him again. For the flurry of excitement that rushed through her when he moved closer.
Her breath caught and held as he examined her much like the specimens she pored over on her research missions. He didn’t care that time grew uncomfortably long between them, nor did he give an inkling as to what he was searching for.
Whether he was satisfied at finding it or he gave up, he turned away, leaving Giada to expel a silent, pent-up breath.
‘We may be temporarily stranded here but there’s no reason why we can’t pick up where we left off last night,’ he said.
For another charged moment, her thoughts flew helter-skelter, until she realised he was referring to his client’s problem. To the interview she was purportedly here for.
‘Oh. Yes, of course.’
He strode a few steps away, then paused when he realised she wasn’t following. ‘Are you coming?’
Her gaze flew up from where it’d dropped to his backside. One eyebrow arched, his mocking eyes landing on her scorched cheeks.
Oh, God...
Had she really been checking him out as if he were a side of prime beef? Flinging her gaze to a point over his shoulder, she tried not to trip over her own feet as she followed him downstairs, and into the kitchen.
‘There’s more than enough from last night or fresh cold meals in the fridge for lunch. Are you okay with vichyssoise and a salad to follow?’ he asked over his shoulder.
She nodded hurriedly. ‘Of course.’ When she found herself watching him avidly again while he performed the mundane task of pulling dishes out of the fridge, Giada shook her head. ‘I’ll go and set the table in the dining room, unless you want to eat in here?’
‘The dining room will do. But the table is already set,’ he murmured.
She hid her grimace as she remembered seeing it before. ‘Oh...yes.’
‘Feel free to choose wine. The cellar is through there.’
