Feeling thoroughly embarrassed by her own inadequacy, Helen looked at him uncertainly. ‘I don’t know why you would want to take me for a walk. There must be lots of people who would keep you company who aren’t afraid of heights.’
‘The trouble is,’ he said slowly, his expression enigmatic, ‘I don’t want lots of people. I want you.’
His last sentence was ambiguous and her eyes locked on his. ‘Oliver…’ Her voice was a croak and he gave a lopsided smile and locked fingers with her.
‘Stop worrying, little town mouse. You’re going to have a good time.’
And suddenly she found that she wasn’t thinking about her fear of heights. She was thinking about spending the weekend with Oliver.
They set out early, but only after Oliver had checked every single item of her clothing.
‘If you use a layering system when you dress, it will keep you warmer,’ he told her, zipping her into his sister’s fleece jacket and then handing her an outer shell. ‘This is the waterproof, windproof bit. How are those boots?’
Helen wiggled her toes and stamped on the spot. ‘They feel fine.’
‘We’re lucky that they fit you. If they start to rub let me know but Bryony has them pretty well worn in.’
‘I feel like Michelin Man.’
‘You look great.’ He handed her a hat. ‘Put this on.’
She pulled a face. ‘I don’t look that great in hats.’
‘Helen.’ His tone was patient. ‘You are not going shopping in the King’s Road. You are about to brave the elements. Wear the hat.’
She took it from him with a sigh and pulled it onto her head.
He looked at her, his gaze assessing. ‘Actually, I disagree. I think you do look great in hats.’ He lowered his head and kissed her gently and then turned and picked up a rucksack that looked ridiculously heavy.
Helen stared after him, frozen into stillness by that kiss.
Her whole body tingled even though the contact had been relatively brief.
What had he meant by it?
Why had he kissed her?
And why did she feel so bitterly disappointed that he’d stopped?
Stunned by the thoughts she was having, Helen shook herself. It was natural that she should enjoy the company of an attractive man when her confidence in herself had been so badly rocked. It didn’t mean anything. She would have felt the same about anyone who paid her attention.
Why the hell had he kissed her?
Oliver was suffering from a severe case of frustration.
Maybe if he stripped off and rolled in the snow he might be able to cool his aching body, he mused, trying hard to occupy his mind with something—anything—that would distract him from the beautiful woman walking behind him.
He’d positioned her behind him because he knew that if she led the way he’d lose all concentration.
She was so sweet and honest.
And the kiss had been a serious mistake.
An impulse which he was now regretting more than he could possibly have imagined because he’d discovered that one relatively chaste kiss was never going to be enough.
He wanted more.
He wanted everything that this woman had to offer.