Sacha rushed for the métro when the school day finally ended on Friday. The kids were hanging around, celebrating their two weeks of freedom.
‘Bonne fêtes, Prof!’ Hamoud called and Sacha managed a wave in response. Felix called out something about being late for a hot date and he couldn’t even make a rejoinder because the boy was right – except it wasn’t a date, exactly. It felt more like going into battle.
He wasn’t even sure what he would be fighting for. Respect for Ren, he hoped. A chance at a better future for her that could involve someone who truly loved her, rather than another crétin like Charlie.
Sacha’s stomach twisted, thinking of the next person she’d be interested in. It brought back the sharp memory from Wednesday night, of holding her at the top of the tower as everything in the universe fell into place around them.
But, nevertheless, he’d still made the phone call on Thursday morning that could land Asquith-Lewis in trouble. Would she resent him if she found out? Her feelings of duty to the family firm were strong – and understandable. Should he just tell her and ruin the weekend? He grimaced, imagining her pretending to like him when she was actually angry.
The topic of that phone call wasn’t the only suspicion he harboured. Six days… It caught him in the gut every time, but he couldn’t know if he was right and he had no desire to make things worse for her.
Sacha rushed home to grab his beat-up rucksack, grimacing when he remembered the monogrammed suitcase in the back of Bilel’s car. Since when did he worry about things like that? He was only pretending to care about Irena Asquith-Lewis, the sophisticated heiress whose absence from Instagram had caused a storm. And if he cared deeply about Wren, the woman with the heart-breaking smile, then… she didn’t exist.
The journey to the Gare de Lyon was quick and he rushed to the platform only a few minutes later than he’d agreed with Ren. He stopped short. Ren was there, clutching the handle of a suitcase tightly. But there stood Charlie, as well, his arm looped casually around his new girlfriend.
‘Here he is! I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it!’ Charlie said, his smile far too wide as he held out his hand to shake Sacha’s. ‘Would you believe it, we’re on the same train!’
‘Five hours together,’ Ren said with a weak smile.
‘We can share a driver at the other end,’ the girlfriend pointed out, then slammed her mouth shut as though she’d forgotten that saving money was not a consideration in present company.
Sacha smothered his own discomfort and gave Ren a quick wink, wrapping an arm around her. He’d never been so glad of the excuse. He didn’t quite trust himself to give her the kiss he wanted to, but he risked a quick brush of his mouth over hers, and he even managed to pull away when her lips parted and her breath escaped on a sigh.
The small smile she gave him was enough to see him through the miserable journey. Charlie shot questions at them, as though he were trying to catch them in the lie. Then, an hour from Bourg-Saint-Maurice, where the interminable train trip from hell would finally end, he casually dropped the next bombshell.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Charlie began innocuously, making Sacha marvel at how well he manipulated the soft-hearted Ren, ‘but I asked if Charlotte and I could have the usual room. We stayed there last week. I know you don’t like to go out on the balcony in the evening, but Charlotte loves the mountain air at night and… well, I hoped you’d understand.’
‘I don’t care about the room,’ Ren muttered. ‘I suppose the chalet is so full that Grandmama will put us in the attic.’
‘Uh, I think that’s where she said you’d have to sleep. Something about not putting the investors out and… well…’ Charlie glanced in Sacha’s direction.
‘I’m sure we’ll be… very comfortable,’ Ren said tightly. Then it struck him. They were staying in a small room. Together. It was probably too much to ask for there to be a sofa bed in the corner. He tried to school his features, but Charlie’s smirk made it difficult.
After a long, strained train ride and a silent trip in a private car along the icy alpine roads, they finally arrived. The bluish light of the moon on the snow made him feel as though he’d stepped through a mirror into another world – where he was not welcome.
The chalet was as intimidatingly beautiful as he’d feared, all natural stone and solid wood. Decorative carvings adorned the doorway and the balconies, elegant and artistic and clearly very expensive. The ski slopes of the exclusive resort were a short walk away.
When Sacha stepped inside, it took all of his effort to keep his mouth from swinging open. Thick-pile rugs enriched the wooden floor. Painted landscapes hung on the walls between the large windows. Inviting flames flickered in a modern fireplace in the entryway. Every item of designer furniture was harmoniously placed and spotlessly clean. It floored him to think that this was what Ren was used to.
And it angered him that she was also used to that disapproving look from Livia, but it was late and they could thankfully retire without facing an interrogation. After climbing four flights of steps to their room, tucked under the wooden eaves of the enormous chalet, he finally closed the door on the prickly welcome and then let his head fall back against the wood.
The room was huge – of course it was – with an enormous bed covered in plush blankets, solid wooden farmhouse furniture and an iron chandelier. But no sofa bed.
Ren approached him, lifting a hand to brush her fingertips over his forehead. ‘You’re the only person I know who can smile and frown at the same time.’
‘You’re the only person I know who can make that sound like a good thing.’
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. He’d put himself through this a thousand times to hear her say those words.
But he tempered her enthusiasm. ‘You may not feel that way in the morning. I told you I can’t ski. I’ve never even imagined a place like this, let alone seen it. Charlie is trying to demask us and…’ He gestured helplessly and stared at the bed.
‘I do remember another night where we shared a bed. The sky didn’t fall on our heads that time, so I think we’ll be okay for two more nights. We’re kind of friends, right?’
‘We are friends,’ he said peevishly.
‘You sound thrilled about that.’
He took a deep breath, but it wasn’t enough to stop the snap of emotion. His hands landed heavily on her shoulders. ‘I was annoyed you said we were “kind of” friends. And I’m not worried about what you do. I’m worried about what I…’ His thumb lifted, as though of its own accord, to brush her jaw. He grimaced and turned away, but it didn’t help. He could hear her swallow. The silence was heavy, as though the entire world was insulated with foam and it was almost enough to make him panic, it was so foreign. ‘I don’t… know how to act. I think differently. I don’t want to make things worse for you.’ That was probably better than admitting how much he wanted to kiss her.
‘I like the way you think,’ she said softly. ‘Your stories, your words and your poetry.’
He blinked at her, losing his train of thought. If she kept forgetting she had to choose between her beloved grandmother and him, he would soon be in trouble. ‘Do we at least have our own bathroom here?’ he asked, looking around with sudden interest.
‘Monsieur is not satisfied with the room?’ Her smile slugged him in the chest.
‘Next I’ll be demanding Valensace shoes.’
‘Speaking of which, you need ski gear. We can grab some tomorrow morning.’
‘I have the clothing.’ He poked around the room as an excuse to put some distance between them.
‘Why do you have the clothing?’
‘Because I thought ahead and knew I would need it. The rest of the stuff… I will rent, because I don’t know anything about the equipment. But I have the… salopette and the coat.’
‘You bought them? How much did it cost? I’ll—’
‘I can afford a set of ski clothes.’
‘I’m not saying you can’t, but… God, I’ve cost you so much already.’ She sank onto the bed with a sigh.
Sacha studied her grimly. He couldn’t accept her money, but he hated that she felt indebted to him – almost more than the idea of taking her money. And how would she feel if he told her what he’d done about the stained-glass panel? Would she call it a betrayal? Or would she understand his commitment to the truth? The situation was impossible.
Sacha stalked to the bed and leaned down, his body rigid with purpose and his expression no doubt harsh. He propped his hands on either side of her and brought his face close. She stared at him, her eyes wide, and drew back a fraction. ‘You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do: fix my own bike, buy a maudite salopette or hold you while you slept.’ Kiss you under the mistletoe. ‘You are not a cost. You are a person and I am… concerned for you.’
Her gaze dropped and he suspected he’d grasped for the wrong word at that last part. He’d meant he felt something for her – cared, that would have been better. But it was safer to leave it.
‘Yeah, well, I’m such a disaster area, I can understand why you’re concerned.’ She gave him a breezy smile. ‘I’m a good skier, though.’
He reluctantly let the moment slip through his fingers. ‘Livia never let you out at night, but she sent you up a mountain to risk your life on a thankless, snow-covered escarpement?’ he asked with a huff.
‘Pfft,’ she said with a dismissive wave. ‘Going out at night is so gauche. Skiing, though, is a sophisticated activity, as you will find out.’
Her smile faded as he made the mistake of meeting her gaze again. Did she still hope this would end well? Perhaps she was just better at ignoring the spark between them.
It was going to be a long night.
It might have been the smallest room in the house, but the family chalet was nothing if not luxurious to the last inch. The two nights would be completely fine. No lines had to be crossed that couldn’t be un-crossed again.
Ren settled down in the big bed, covered in duvets and blankets and pillows and swimming in Egyptian cotton. She’d never even know Sacha was next to her. She would have a night of blissful sleep dreaming of soft, warm, snow-like fluff cuddling her safe – not any other sort of cuddling, nor strong tattooed arms, and definitely no dreams of tangled limbs that might or might not be happening in real life.
But that was the problem with trying not to think about something: it inevitably led to thinking about it. She’d proven this a moment earlier when she’d most definitely not thought about Sacha in the shower. She should have picked someone ugly to be her fake boyfriend. No, actually, she shouldn’t have gone down this idiotic fake boyfriend route at all. But she couldn’t accept that, either, if it meant she’d never got to know Sacha. Why were these thoughts consuming her, rather than worries about tomorrow, about managing investors and tiptoeing around Charlie?
When had making her family accept Sacha become more important than all of that and what was the point when he would never accept them, either? She was stupidly striving for a happily-ever-after again, imagining a world where she and Sacha could be together without sacrificing anything else – a world where he wanted her as much as she wanted him, despite the fact that every time they were together, bad things happened to him. She hadn’t been enough for that idiot Charlie, so what hope did she have with someone as amazing as Sacha?
He emerged from the bathroom in a pair of loose boxer shorts and a T-shirt, his hair wet and curling, and the sight made her weak with wanting. She slammed her eyes shut as he approached the bed.
‘Do you want to leave the light on?’
‘The bathroom light will do,’ she said stiffly, willing herself not to be touched by his concern.
His footsteps retreated and returned, and then the bedside lamp was extinguished with a click. She was hyperaware of the swish of the covers as he slipped in beside her.
‘I can sleep on the floor,’ he said softly.
‘No,’ she insisted. ‘I might be your bad luck charm, but I’m not going to give you a crick in the neck when I could have done something to stop it. I can sleep on the floor.’ She reached for the covers.
‘Don’t,’ was all he said at first. ‘Ren, it’s not a punishment to sleep next to you. Last time it was…’
‘Nice,’ she finished for him when he hesitated for too long.
‘Oui,’ he said with a huff. ‘Non, en fait, it was more than nice.’ She froze, waiting for him to say more, but he rolled over instead. ‘Allez dors,’ he said, his voice trailing off. ‘Sleep.’
She tried, but it was difficult with her mind drowned in conflicting thoughts. As the night lengthened, she nestled closer, facing away for the sake of tenuous deniability.
His arm flopped sleepily over her and curled tight. She settled against him and closed her eyes, feeling only the warmth of his body and the gusts of his breath on her ear.
Then suddenly the light was streaming in through the window under the eaves and Sacha stretched and sighed behind her. His hand landed possessively on her hip before he wrenched it away. A moment later, he rolled out of bed.
One night down. They had so few, Ren couldn’t help but think it had been a waste of a night together.
