The Real Romero(27)

                This was more than just a bit of fun for a couple of days. This was a serious case of wanting a woman and he was sick of playing mind games with himself. Hell, when he thought of her disappearing without him having bedded her...

                He killed every single scruple that had been holding him back, because he was a man who was accustomed to taking what he wanted, and why bother trying to break the habits of a lifetime?





                                      CHAPTER FOUR

                THE GOING WAS slower than it would normally have been. Lucas was familiar with the slope down to the town centre but the thickly falling snow meant that he had to take it more carefully, which went against the grain when it came to skiing.

                What the hell had she been thinking, venturing out when she must have known that there was the possibility of getting lost? She had never been here before and so far had only seen the slopes in his speeding wake.

                He did his utmost to cover as much ground as possible, cross-skiing, eyes peeled for anything that might be a figure in distress. Or even a figure moving at a snail’s pace, trying to get her bearings.

                Nothing.

                The slopes were virtually empty. The height of the tourist season was over and the falling snow would have kept most of the skiers indoors. Good food, good wine, expensive lodges—some, like his, with saunas and gyms. Being cooped up indoors would hardly be a hardship.

                After twenty minutes, he saw the town approaching in the distance, a clutch of shops and restaurants, bars and cafés.

                He hadn’t planned to make this trip. He had planned to stay put in the lodge, testing the less obvious ski slopes, maintaining his privacy. It was a small town and he was its wealthiest occasional visitor.

                Cursing fluently under his breath, because he had no idea what ‘stuff’ she could possibly have needed to buy when the house was stocked with enough food for them to survive a sudden nuclear war, he resigned himself to a door-to-door search for her.

                He hadn’t signed up for this.

                He was recognised within minutes of entering the first shop. He was stopped as he tried to progress through the town. His dark, striking looks halted people in their tracks, even those who didn’t know who he was.

                Somewhere, there would be someone with a camera. The place was a magnet for the paparazzi.

                Hell! It made no difference to him whether some sleazeball with a camera snapped a photo of him but he would rather have avoided it. He valued his privacy, little of it as there was.

                He found her in the very last café, huddled in front of a mug of hot chocolate, watching the snow storm. He had just spent the past hour trudging to find her and here she was, cool as a cucumber, sipping her drink without a care in the world!

                He burst into the smart café and was, of course, immediately recognised by the owner. He might not have been a regular visitor but he was so extraordinarily high-profile that people went out of their way to garner his attention.

                Even when, as now, he patently didn’t want it. Especially not when she had spotted him and was frowning as she absorbed the café owner’s deference.

                The man was practically bowing as he retreated. Lucas ignored him, choosing instead to hold her gaze as he strode towards her.

                ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’