12 Gifts for Christmas. Джулия Кеннер

dishes. She fixed herself a plate of fruit and eggs and ham rollups.

      “Ally? Come over here and join us,” Miguel called to her. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      ALLY turned in her friend Miguel’s direction and walked toward him. Then she abruptly halted when she met a pair of eyes so fiery black and piercing, she felt scorched by them. They belonged to the man sitting across from Miguel—a sophisticated-looking Spaniard with his glossy black hair tied at the nape with a thong.

      She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, like Miguel.

      Beneath the man’s sculpted black brows, his gaze made a swift assessment of Ally’s body, traveling from her cowboy boots to the crown of her head. He said nothing, but she felt instinctively there was something about her that displeased him. Why? She hadn’t even met him. She fought to tamp down her flare of temper.

      “Allison Bonner, please meet Señor Desidiero Pastrana, my boss. He’s also the CEO of the Pastrana luxury hotel chain that operates throughout Spain. I told him you’d arrived from the States a few days ago and will be our guest for a while.”

      The impossibly handsome, olive-skinned Spaniard got to his feet. “Señorita Bonner,” he said, shaking her hand.

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Señor Pastrana.”

      With his tall, dark, Aragonian looks, she could easily imagine that he’d just stepped out of a painting done by one of the Spanish masters. In his black shirt and trousers, he took her breath. Yet behind his clipped tone, she still sensed his displeasure.

      Perhaps being in the hotel business had caused him to develop an aversion toward Americans. Whatever his problem, she hoped his work wouldn’t keep him here long.

      Miguel patted the chair next to him. “Sit down and eat, Ally. I’ve told Desidiero you’re an excellent climber and that you’re keen to try ice climbing on the waterfalls while you’re here. He has agreed to be your guide.”

      She moaned, hoping no one heard her.

      Her host smiled. “Naturally I couldn’t let you go with just any climber, no matter how good they think they are. Since Desidiero is the expert and is willing to take you, I’ll leave you two to talk. Come on, children. I have work to do. Let’s go find your mamacita.”

      Now she understood the resentful vibes coming from the proud Spaniard seated across from her—he thought he’d been cornered into playing babysitter. “I know Miguel’s intentions were the best, but I’m not his responsibility and I’ll hire my own guide. I’m sorry he approached you, señor.”

      He gave an elegant shrug of his broad shoulders. “He knew I came here to do some ice climbing. He cares about you, it’s important to him that I go with you.”

      “But as he said, I’ve never climbed on ice. I don’t want to hold you back.”

      He pursed his lips. “At least that’s honest,” he muttered. “Your inexperience won’t be a problem if you can follow directions. Today is the only time I have. Are you prepared to leave now?”

      She’d planned to go skiing today, but this kind of opportunity was exactly what she’d wanted to do on this trip. She just hadn’t expected do it with this throwback to the time of conquistadores who had no desire to be with her.

      “Yes,” she said spiritedly. Why not today, now? She’d come to Spain to defy the odds and sensed he presented as much of a challenge as the mountains themselves.

      He was surprised by her answer. No doubt he’d counted on her saying no, that she couldn’t get ready that soon. Now he’d have to follow through on this favor to Miguel. “In that case, I’ll take you up for a few hours and give you your first lesson. Do you think you can last that long?”

      “Absolutely. It’s very kind of you to take me.” But it was hard getting those words out when it was clear by his cold tone and stiff body how he really felt. His friendship with Miguel must have meant a lot to him.

      “You’d be wise to finish all your breakfast.”

      So he thought she couldn’t keep up with him? She’d be climbing circles around him before the day was out. “I promise not to fall behind.”

      “Bien.” He sounded as if he were already bored with their conversation. “I’ll meet you in the foyer in half an hour.”

      Ally checked her watch. “I’ll be waiting. Thank you, señor,” she said but he’d already started walking away.

      A strange quiver ran through her body as she watched him stride off, making her think of a dark prince before he disappeared.

      She ate her food quickly and then hurried back to her room to get ready, hardly able to believe this was really happening.

      After her mastectomy, she’d undergone a lot of physical therapy and eventually worked up a routine of squats, dead lifts, overhead presses, pull-ups, step-ups and dips. Before she left for Spain, her doctor told her she was in excellent cardiovascular condition and saw no reason why she couldn’t do any kind of climbing she liked.

      Though this would be a new experience for her, she’d been a climber for years and was determined that the inscrutable Spaniard would eat crow when he realized his low opinion of her was unfounded. She was going to prove herself today or die trying. Better that than to remain home in Afton listening to those inner voices whispering what if you don’t stay in remission?

      Ally wasn’t in the foyer one minute before Señor Pastrana came walking through the double doors in his climbing gear. His striking looks caused every female guest coming and going from the posada to stare. He stopped when he saw she’d beaten him there. Without saying anything, his eyes scrutinized her, taking a mental inventory of what she was wearing, as any expert guide would do.

      He was the kind of man who had to shave every day, but he hadn’t done it this morning. Was she mistaken, or did he seem paler than he had earlier, even with the shadow of his beard … or maybe because of it?

      Why she cared or paid that much attention was beyond her. It had to be the dimmer light here in the foyer, which retained all the elements of the former cloister.

      Sensing his displeasure again she asked, “Have I forgotten something?”

      His gaze grew shuttered. “Not that I can see,” he muttered in a gravelly voice. “Shall we go?” He opened the door.

      She nodded and walked out into the sunshine, aware of his eyes on her body. For no reason she could readily identify, Ally trembled. That had never happened to her before, not even with her fiancé. The blond, fun-loving Rex was so different from Desidiero Pastrana the two men might as well have been born on separate planets.

      An elegant, black, four-wheel-drive truck stood outside the Posada d’Ara with the motor running. Her guide opened the passenger door for Ally to get in. Their arms brushed as she climbed inside.

      The slight contact sent a dart of awareness through her, shocking her. For so long she’d been dead inside. There’d been a couple of men since Rex who’d tried to get close to her, but she couldn’t give them what they wanted. Getting involved with someone inevitably led to physical intimacy, and she wasn’t ready to suffer the rejection after he saw her scars.

      So it was confusing and scary that her senses would suddenly be stirred by this dark, brooding force of nature from the other side of the world … who wanted to be anywhere else except with her.

      CHAPTER THREE

      DES didn’t speak as he drove several kilometers away from the ski area and began climbing the mountain road, making new tracks in the snow. He’d driven up here in a foul mood last night, but it was nothing compared to his state of mind right now.

      Not only hadn’t he been able to stomach food this morning, but he was