Online Book Reader

Home Category

Indiscretions - Elizabeth Adler [55]

By Root 1145 0
was in the mountains—which he had always loved—on a glorious day which God had provided, with a girl he was falling in love with. He stole a glance at Vennie’s profile as she sipped her wine, gazing out across the valley spread below her like a perfect picture postcard. He loved the soft curve of her cheek, the hint of a dimple at the right side that came and went as she talked, and gave her face a charming asymmetrical touch when she smiled. He loved her wide, open blue gaze, the long curving lashes tipped with gold, he loved the way she’d pulled back her hair into a heavy blond ponytail and the delicate line of her back which even in the bulky ski suit seemed fragile. And yet she wasn’t. Venetia was strong—not only physically, but in character. He knew how determined she was to make it on her own in her cooking ventures and he wished he could help; surely there must be some way to make it easier for her? For he had the feeling that Vennie wasn’t going to quit for anyone or anything until she had achieved her goal.

“Shall we try again?” asked Vennie, pulling on the soft pink-and-gray angora hat that matched her ski-suit. “I’m game to try the black, if you are.”

“You’re on.”

Clomping companionably back across the wooden terrace in their heavy boots, they picked up their skis from the line propped up on the snow outside the café, clipped them on, and glided off toward the lifts. Holding hands as they drifted slowly up the mountain in the chair lift was, thought Venetia contentedly, sheer heaven.

The snow that had threatened in the line of clouds on the horizon had begun to fall heavily as they descended the mountain for the fifth and final time that afternoon, and by the time they reached the Palace it was whirling into a blizzard.

“Just made it,” commented Morgan, sticking their skis and boots in the ski store, “and I’ll bet we have a white-out tomorrow.”

Venetia groaned, stretching her already tightening muscles. “Ohh, I’m not sure I care. … I can only think of soaking in a hot bath and sleeping for a week.”

“I’ll allow you the long hot bath,” said Morgan, “but then it’s time for a drink at the bar, a candlelit dinner for two, and after that …” Morgan put his arm around her, pulling her close.

“After that?” she murmured, smiling teasingly at him from under her lashes.

“Oh, a little dancing, a little kissing …” Morgan’s mouth came down on hers firmly, holding her cold lips with his as she tightened her arms about his neck.

“Here we are, necking in the ski store like two high-school kids,” grinned Morgan, “and you’re freezing. I’ve never kissed anyone with such icy lips. Come on, we’ve got to get you into that hot bath. We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

It was such a good feeling, thought Vennie, hurrying along beside him, to be looked after. It was so comfortable being with Morgan.

Vennie was wearing a long soft shift of violet wool, high necked, wide shouldered, and long sleeved, belted in quilted violet satin. On another girl it might have looked vulgar and obvious, thought Morgan, elegant in his dinner jacket, but on Vennie’s tall, slender body it looked wonderful. They made a spectacularly handsome couple in a hotel filled with very handsome people, turning heads as they left the cozy warmth of the fireplace in the bar and made their way to the restaurant.

Revived by her bath and fortified by a champagne cocktail, Vennie felt a new woman. Exhilaration flowed through her veins, but a different sort from that which she’d experienced on the mountain. That was from the thrill and excitement of the sport and the glorious day. This feeling was from the sheer happiness of being young, feeling pretty, and being with Morgan.

The waiter seated them at the candlelit table and Morgan reached his hand across and took hers. “Did I tell you you look lovely by candlelight?” he inquired with a smile. “Maybe even better than on the ski slope—though I have to admit, it’s close!”

“And you too,” replied Vennie teasingly. “Candlelight turns your eyes the color of good port.”

“Huh, back to food and drink again. Was that

Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader