Consequence of His Revenge(11)

“That’s fine.” Cami tried not to wince. The suite belonged to Seth, so she couldn’t really take the sofa from his brother. “I can stay with Sharma.” Probably. “But can you send the scans? I don’t want to wait.”

“I’m at the library. It’ll be a few hours before I’m home. Why? What’s up?”

“I want to check something at the bank in the morning,” she prevaricated, then hurried to forestall more questions. “I’ll text when I’m on my way. Happy studying. Eat a vegetable. Coffee beans don’t count.”

“If you were a science major, like me, you’d know different. Over ’n’ out.”

She ended the call and texted Sharma, then faced Dante again. Why was he even still giving her the time of day?

Oh, she had such a burning desire to prove herself to him. If she could just get him to believe this one thing... But what would it change? Her father’s betrayal still existed. Nothing could erase that, and it left her so exhausted inside, she wanted to cry.

“Now are you ready?” He moved to shoulder her backpack.

“You really insist on skiing?”

“I do.”

Was she rationalizing? Finding a reason to spend the day with him?

She was filling her day with the one thing guaranteed to work out her stress. That’s what she told herself as she closed her apartment for the last time and followed him out.

* * *

Cami certainly knew her way around the village, the hill and, most important, skis. He bought some, since he would be in town a few weeks.

She quizzed him thoroughly about his preferences and experience before recommending a pair, shrugging off her extensive knowledge of edges and bounce, wax and seasonal conditions in the area. “I’m a geek for this, what can I say?”

She disappeared while he was picking out ski pants and a pullover, leaving him mulling that she had nothing to gain from what she had just done except personal enjoyment. There was no attempt to earn a commission or his favor. It seemed an act of selflessness, which aligned with her acting so kindly toward his grandmother, but still went against his preconceived assumptions.

The way she had seemed genuinely alarmed over the missing money transfer was another puzzle piece that didn’t fit. He was trying to work out what she thought she could gain from such an outrageous lie when he met up with her at the lift line.

She wore rented skis and clothes he’d seen her pull out of her backpack, which she’d stored in the back of his SUV—a thin black turtleneck, skintight yoga pants and a lightweight red windbreaker. Sexy as hell.

His brain blanked, unable to think of anything else.

It didn’t help that in that moment the sun broke through the thin film of clouds, making her that much more incandescent with silvery streaks in her hair. She perched a pair of sunglasses on her nose and smiled with an excitement that was contagious and utterly entrancing.

“You said you like powder?”

It was why he’d wanted an early start. All that rain in the village last night was reputed to produce a foot of talcum-like snow at the top. Left to his own devices, he might have found a pocket or two, but Cami knew all the bowls and untracked slopes and the shortest distance between them.

He let her lead, and they roared down one untouched run after another. By the time the snow was growing heavy under the warmth of afternoon sun, he was pleasantly tired.

“Lunch?” It was closer to happy hour.

“I should take a break,” she agreed. “I haven’t skied that hard in ages.”

He frowned, realizing fine trembles were quivering through her. “You should have said you were getting tired.”

“Your grandmother wanted us to have fun,” she reminded. “I’ll take the beginner run to the lodge. You can take the diamond, if you like.”

“I’ll stay with you, but there’s a chalet midway, isn’t there? Let’s eat there.”

She nodded, and he followed at a distance so he could make sure she didn’t fall.

He’d watched her more than once today, convinced that at least her family’s reasons for going to Italy had been genuine. She wasn’t afraid of speed, and her turns were a thing of beauty, precise even now, when she was being lazy, playfully kicking up a spray of snow as she crisscrossed the slope.

She moved gingerly once they removed their skis and were shown to an outdoor table on the overlook, though.

Dante ordered white wine and shareable appetizers, then asked, “Have you pulled something?”

“Just an old break that wants to be babied.” She buried the response in her glass of water, gaze hidden behind her sunglasses. Then her nose turned to the stark white peaks jabbing at the intense blue sky. “That would make a nice backdrop for a selfie if you want one for your grandmother.”

He took out his phone and they moved to the rail. The view of rolling peaks gave a sense of being on top of the world.

They turned their backs to it and he flicked to his camera setting, looping his free arm around her. She stiffened and flashed a startled glance up at him, flushing with instant awareness.

The simmer of lust hadn’t abated in him. Her slender figure was undeniably feminine, yet strong and resilient. She smelled like wilderness and woman. The weight of her resting against him had his skin feeling too small to contain him.

As they held eye contact, and the pink in her cheeks deepened, the smolder inside him grew to an inferno, but there was more beneath the physical response. He was oddly pleased by this perfect day. Something like gratitude welled in him that she’d made it so enjoyable. He leaned in to kiss her, unable to resist.

She gasped and her mouth parted under his, receptive and delicious, clinging and encouraging, her hunger as depthless and instant as his own. As with the other two times, the match caught immediately. Passion flared so high and quick, it singed his brows.

With a tiny sob, she abruptly pulled her head back, lashes wet and blinking. “Please don’t.”

His blood drummed in his ears as he hovered inches from kissing her again, taking in the pang of her voice, nearly fearful, and the anguish in her wet lashes.

“I don’t know how to handle this,” she whispered. “Please don’t embarrass me in front of people just to prove you can.”

She wasn’t playing coy. Her distress was real and worked like a burr into his heart, prickly and uncomfortable. He did like knowing he provoked such an unfettered response in her, but he wasn’t trying to degrade her with it. He wanted to drown in it. With her.

She tried to slip away and he tightened his arm, snapping back to the business at hand. “Smile,” he said gruffly, hand not quite steady as he held up his phone.

She swallowed, lifted her sunglasses into her hair and swept a fingertip under each eye, then tilted her face up to the screen. “Turn it to video.”

He did and she smiled, fresh-faced and beaming with natural beauty, yet so unguarded, it caused an unsteadiness in his chest.

“Thank you, Bernadetta. We’ve had a wonderful day.” Her voice was husky, and she blew a kiss with a hand that trembled.

“Grazij, Noni,” he said, arm tightening around Cami in an impulse to protect and reassure. He wanted to insist he would never hurt her, but he already had.

The fist clenched with righteousness inside him gave a twist of guilt. He kept his turmoil from his expression as he scanned to capture the view behind them before ending the recording.

“Grazij, Cami,” he said as he released her to send the clip.

“I enjoyed it.” She flashed him a look of lingering vulnerability, then moved to their table, seeming to deliberately look for a more neutral conversation as she commented, “It’s nice that you’re so close to her. My grandparents were gone before I was old enough to remember them.”

Their wine had been delivered. They sat, clinked, sipped and sighed.

“It’s too bad she isn’t seeing more of the area.” Her sunglasses were still on her hair, leaving her serene, sun-kissed expression wide open for his admiration. She looked across the view the way he looked across the vineyard at home. Like it brought her peace. Restored her.

For one second, he wondered if he could blame Stephen for indulging her, if mountaintops were where she belonged. He shook off the damaging thought, saying, “She was here with my grandfather years ago. Nostalgia brought her. I think she’s disappointed by the signs of progress. She prefers to stay in her hotel room where she can pretend he just popped out for ice.”

The signs of age in her were eating at him.

“They traveled extensively when my grandfather was building their fortune. When she heard we’d bought property here and said she’d like to see it, I thought it was a resurgence of her old travel bug, but it’s more about revisiting a place she enjoyed with my grandfather. That’s why she walked to the Tabor the other day. I arranged a car, but she preferred memory lane. Last night at dinner was the first time she’s talked about anything but being here with him. I don’t mind. She’s telling me stories I’ve never heard, but it’s made me realize how much she misses him.”

It made him realize how much he’d been in his own world, concentrating on work at the expense of spending time with her.

“How long were they married?”