Dr. Zinetti's Snowkissed Bride (9 page)

BOOK: Dr. Zinetti's Snowkissed Bride
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Misinterpreting her silence, Dino dragged her against him and held her close, warming her. ‘You must be freezing. I can't believe I lost control like that. It's you—the way you make me feel…'

Despite the warning bells in her head, his words caused a buzz inside her and she pressed her lips to his cold cheek. ‘You smell good, have I told you that?'

He turned his head to capture her mouth. ‘Unless you want to find yourself flat on your back in the snow again, you'd better not say things like that. All these months I've been feeling as though I need to take a cold shower when you walk into the room, and suddenly I discover that even freezing ice isn't going to work.'

Months?

He'd felt like this for months? She'd had no idea. Seriously unsettled by how much that frank confession disturbed her equilibrium, Meg stooped and picked up a handful of snow. ‘Want me to help you out with that problem of yours, macho man?'

Laughing, he caught her wrist in an iron grip. ‘Put that anywhere near my trousers and we won't be able to take this any further.'

Did she want to take it further?

Confused by the feelings fluttering inside her, she dropped the snow and stepped close to him. ‘Dino—'

He smothered her words with a kiss and then stepped back and held up his hands. ‘
Accidenti,
enough! We need to get going before we are buried in another avalanche or it grows dark.'

It came as a surprise to realise that she really didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave this place. If he hadn't pulled her
to her feet, she never would have stopped. She'd been willing to risk frostbite in order to claw her way closer to him. She hadn't wanted the kiss to end. She would have happily gone on kissing him for the rest of her life, rather than confronting just how dangerous falling under Dino Zinetti's spell could be for her.

Looking around, Meg realised just how isolated they were. The sky was a threatening shade of grey. At some point while they'd been generating heat with each other, it had started snowing again.

Dino hauled his backpack onto his shoulders and secured the waist strap. ‘Are you all right to walk?'

Refusing to reveal how shaken she was, Meg gave a mocking smile. ‘You may be a good kisser, Zinetti, but even you're not so good I can't put one foot in front of the other.'

‘Is that a challenge?' His took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers again. ‘Do you know how long I've waited to do this? I was about a day away from just throwing you onto a trolley in the emergency department.' This second frank confession of need made her stomach flip and she laughed against his lips.

‘That bad?'

‘Worse.' Reluctantly, he lifted his head. ‘Much as I'm appreciating the solitude of this place, we have to go. Otherwise our fellow team members will be making another trip up the mountain, this time to rescue us.'

‘And that would be almost as embarrassing as being caught in an avalanche in the Lake District.'

Dino helped her slide her arms into her backpack. ‘Rambo didn't bark at us. Two bodies in the snow, and he didn't bark. Do you think he knew he was supposed to be discreet?'

‘No. He knew we weren't lost.' Meg started to trudge through the snow but it was deep and heavy and the going was exhausting. ‘That guy recognised you. Said you used
to risk your neck on downhill runs. Why did you stop competitive skiing?' Rambo ran ahead, light on the snow, nosing the ground. She envied his ability to move so easily in the unfriendly terrain.

‘I had a couple of injuries. Shoulder…' He flexed his shoulder under his pack. ‘That was a nasty one. Concussion. But in the end I just had to make a choice between skiing and medicine. I couldn't compete at high level and study. So instead I combined my mountain knowledge and my medical knowledge.'

‘So you must have seen some real avalanches.'

‘That was a real avalanche, Meg. And there could be more.' Glancing back over his shoulder to where they'd come from, Dino frowned. ‘We ought to talk to Sean about getting some sort of warning issued. Local radio. Hotels. That sort of thing. The snowpack is too unstable for people to be taking risks. In some ways it's even more dangerous than the Alps because people underestimate what they're dealing with here. That man was lucky. It could easily have ended differently and Rambo would have been barking at a dead body.'

Meg shuddered. ‘The weather is closing in. Are we going to make it home before dark?'

‘Yes. Why? Don't you fancy a night up here in the wilderness with me?'

Struggling with the deep snow, she smiled. ‘You take up too much room in the tent. And anyway, I have to pick Jamie up from my mum's. Tonight is her bridge night or something. I don't want to ruin her social life. Talking of which…' She kept her voice casual. ‘I'm afraid I can't make the ball—Ellie needs me to work that shift so I had to swap.'

‘Yes, she told me. I swapped it back.' He caught her arm as she stumbled in the deep snow.

‘You swapped my shifts?'

‘I simply explained to Ellie that you were going to the ball.
She was most surprised that you'd offered to switch given that you have a date.'

Trapped, outmanoeuvred, Meg ground her teeth. ‘She won't be able to spare me. It's a nightmare trying to staff that shift.'

‘On the contrary, she said that given the number of times you've covered for other people over the years, the least she can do is give you the evening off. You're working a late shift. We agreed that you'd work until eight o'clock. The night staff are going to come on early as a favour. It will mean you'll have to get ready at the hospital, but I don't suppose that matters.'

‘Now, wait just a minute—'

‘Meg.' He locked his hand in the front of her jacket and pulled her against him, leaving her in no doubt about who was in charge of the decision-making on this particular point. ‘Changing your shift isn't going to work. Talking to Ellie isn't going to work. Contracting some mysterious illness isn't going to work. I'm taking you to the ball.'

‘What if I tell you I just don't like you enough to go to the ball with you?'

‘Then we'll both know you're lying.' Without giving her the opportunity to argue, he leaned in and kissed her. As his lips brushed over hers, her blood heated and for a moment she forgot what they were talking about. Everything important slid out of her mind, leaving a vacant space occupied only by the most intense, sizzling heat she'd ever experienced.

Terrified, Meg shoved at his chest. ‘Does that confidence of yours ever get you into trouble?'

‘Not so far.'

‘You can't run my life.'

‘What is it that frightens you? The ball, or me?'

‘Both.' Angry with him and suddenly furious with herself
too, Meg pulled away from him but he hauled her back against him, his hands firm on her body.

‘It's just one evening.' He murmured the words against her lips. ‘One evening. If you hate it, I'll take you home after an hour and that's a promise.'

She was about to tell him that an hour was going to seem like a lifetime when she remembered the way she'd felt when he'd tumbled her into the snow. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she should stop being stupid. He was right, wasn't he? It was just a ball and it had been years since she'd been to anything like that. Maybe she'd feel differently about the whole thing now that she was older. It wasn't as if she was going to be standing against the wall, waiting for someone to ask her to dance. She had a partner. And not just any partner—she had Dr Hot.

‘All right, I'll go on Saturday,' she said finally. ‘If that's really how you want to spend an evening. But don't say I didn't warn you when you come back with bruised feet. You're going to regret this.'

She had a feeling that she would, too.

 

Rambo sat watching Meg, his tail wagging.

‘It's all very well telling me to wear whatever I have in my wardrobe, but I don't have anything in my wardrobe. One dress. That's it.' Meg pulled it out and hung it on the outside. She brushed the dust off it. Her mother had bought it for her years before when the mountain rescue team had thrown a party to celebrate her eighteenth birthday. Frowning at the plain black dress, she shook her head. She had absolutely no idea what to wear to a Christmas ball, but she knew she wasn't looking at it. She didn't own anything suitable, which meant that now she needed to go shopping and she absolutely
loathed
shopping for clothes. Buying a new pair of hiking boots was easy, but endless rails and racks of different dresses turned
her brain to useless mush. She didn't know which colours or styles were in fashion. She didn't know what looked good on her. All she knew was that Dino Zinetti was going to take one look at her and wish he'd never invited her.

Daunted by the prospect of trying to find something to wear, Meg picked up the phone and rang Ellie. ‘You're taking me shopping. Since you're the reason I'm going to this stupid ball, the least you can do is help me choose a dress that doesn't make me look awful.'

The fact that Ellie agreed immediately confirmed Meg's suspicions that her friend and colleague was matchmaking.

They met in the shopping centre a short drive from the hospital.

‘This is going to end in tears, you know that, don't you?' Meg scowled as Ellie virtually danced up to her, a smile lighting her whole face.

‘It's not going to end in tears.' Ellie slid her arm through Meg's. ‘It's going to end in romance. And great sex.'

‘Perhaps you should speak a little louder. I don't think those toddlers at the far end of the shopping mall quite heard you.'

‘What do you have against sex?'

‘El, you're doing it again. A few octaves lower would be good here, otherwise we're going to be kicked out before we've bought anything.'

‘Sorry. I'm just so excited that you're going to the ball!'

‘That makes one of us.'

‘You're not excited? Seriously?'

‘I'd rather sing the “Hallelujah Chorus” while standing naked on London Bridge in the rush-hour.'

‘Gosh, you are weird.' Ellie bounced up to an exclusive boutique. ‘It's a good job I'm excited enough for both of us.'

Meg took one look at elegant dresses in the window and stepped backwards, narrowly missing a mother with a
pushchair. ‘If you're even thinking of this shop, forget it. I can't afford it.'

‘Look at the sign. Early sale. This is your lucky day.' Ignoring Meg's protests, Ellie tugged her through the revolving glass doors into the daunting hush of the upmarket designer boutique. ‘You're going to look perfect. This is going to be a real Cinderella moment.'

‘Are we talking about the moment where her clothes fall off or the moment where she loses a shoe?' Meg muttered, but Ellie was already sifting through dresses. Envying her confidence, Meg stood awkwardly, waiting for someone to ask her to leave.

‘What colour do you look good in?' Ellie squinted at her and Meg shrugged, hideously embarrassed.

‘No idea. My thermal top looks OK on me—that's a sort of emerald green.'

Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘Stop talking about thermal tops. On Saturday night you are not Meg, wolf-girl, you are Meg, sex-girl.'

‘We are definitely going to be arrested.'

‘You should be thinking silk and satin.'

‘I'm thinking get me out of this nightmare.' Meg caught the eye of one of the shop assistants. ‘Ellie—can we go somewhere more anonymous? We're the only people in this shop and those women are looking at me, wondering what on earth someone like me is doing in here.'

‘Rubbish. You're their only customer and they're thinking, I hope she buys something.' Ellie was rifling through the rails. Occasionally she paused and narrowed her eyes before moving on. Finally she pulled a dress out and held it up. ‘All right. This is the one. It's stunning.'

‘It doesn't have any straps. How does it stay up?'

‘It's fitted at the waist and your boobs will keep it up.'

‘That's not reassuring. Ellie, I really don't think—'

‘Try it. It's really sexy. You could wear your hair up. Do you have a necklace of some sort?'

‘No.'

‘Well, what do you normally wear around your neck?'

‘A wool scarf.'

‘I meant when you go out.' Ellie was laughing. ‘What do you wear around your neck when you're not trudging through mountains?'

‘Nothing.' Meg shrugged awkwardly. ‘I don't really wear jewellery. Where would I wear jewellery? If I'm not in the mountains, I'm with my son.' She frowned. ‘Actually, I do have something, now I think about it. Mum gave me a gold necklace that used to belong to my grandmother but I've never worn it. It's been in my drawer for seven years.'

‘Sounds perfect.' Ellie thrust the dress towards her. ‘Try it. Changing room is over there.'

‘But—'

‘Go. I'll find you some shoes to go with it.'

‘Make sure they're flat.' Meg threw an embarrassed glance at the sales girls and gestured to the changing rooms. ‘All right if I—?'

They waved her in and she slid into one of the cubicles and closed the door, cursing Ellie for getting her into this mess. It was one of the coldest winters on record and she was about to strip off and try on a strapless dress for an evening she absolutely didn't want to attend. Rolling her eyes, Meg removed her coat and pulled her sweater over her head. Pulling on the dress, she stared at herself sulkily. ‘I look stupid.'

Ellie opened the door of the cubicle and looked at her. ‘That's because you're wearing boots on your feet. Take them off and try these.' She held out a pair of gold stilettos. ‘They'll look really sexy. The dress is completely gorgeous. Meg, no kidding, you look stunning. Is your cleavage real?'

BOOK: Dr. Zinetti's Snowkissed Bride
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