Winter Sunlight

by Susan Alexander

  The going seemed endless, and she was aware of little, the only reality the feel of Max's body supporting her. Slowly the ragged sound of her breathing died. She quietened, feeling the blessed freshness of air in her face. And all the time he was talking to her.

  'Easy now. Slowly. It's all right. You're safe. I won't let you fall.'

  Gradually her heart slackened its furious beat, although her legs felt like jelly and only his hold on her kept her upright. But she was deeply thankful to be alive.

  'Just a little further, my dearest love,' he whispered into her hair. 'We're nearly there.'

  Finally he stopped. Bending to free his skis, he picked her up and carried her in somewhere. Putting her down on a hard bed, he covered her with a blanket and unclipped her boots. As he put a match to the fire laid out in the grate, Sophie looked round. They were in a hut. Two camp beds stood against the wooden walls, and opposite, a small cooking stove was set under a shelf holding emergency rations. The fire began to crackle, catching the dry wood, and steam poured from the kettle. Max put a mug with hot bouillon against her lips, and she drank a few drops before her head sank back and she was asleep.

  When she woke it was dark. She could see the mountain filling the window, and wondered for a moment where she was. Then she remembered. A huge fire crackled. A paraffin lamp lit the small hut, and Max's shadow loomed large and dark against the wall before she saw him sitting on a chair, his elbows on his knees, motionless, gazing into the fire.

  She stirred, moving to get up, and he was instantly at her side.

  'You're awake.'

  'I must have slept.'

  'It was what you needed most.' He put out a hand and stroked her hair from her face. 'I have some food ready. You must eat something and then we'll talk.'

  'I'm not hungry.'

  'I know,' he said calmly, 'but you must eat. It's nothing exciting—some soup and crackers—but you won't be able to think till you've eaten.'

  They ate in silence. Then Max stirred the fire and replenished the logs while Sophie sat at the end of the bed, a blanket wrapped round her. Slowly her mind began to work. Had she dreamed Max's cry to her up on the mountain? Had he called her his dearest love? Or had she imagined it in her fevered state?

  She felt weak and light-headed, and tried to prepare herself for what he would tell her. They were obviously marooned here for the rest of the night, and she thought vaguely of the family. Would they wonder what had happened? Or would they know and send out search parties? And where had Max been when the avalanche had hit her? Had he been up on the mountain? Or had he heard of the snowfall and come for her? Her heart lurched rather painfully at the thought.

  'Now,' he said as he took the empty mug from her fingers, 'we'll talk.'

  The hot soup was having its effect. Her mind was clearing and her strength returning, at least in part. She lifted her head and looked at him, her face quite calm, without expression.

  He looked huge in the small hut. He had taken off his anorak, and the closely fitting skiing trousers hugged the slim hips and long muscular legs, the black sweater emphasising the broad shoulders and wide chest. He sat down, hands clasped loosely between his knees. He looked tired, the lines down his cheeks dark and the vivid green eyes drooping with fatigue as he looked across at her.

  'I don't believe there's anything broken,' he said in a low, even voice. 'The doctor will tell us in due course. But you must try to move as little as possible.'

  Sophie nodded, keeping her eyes deliberately blank.

  'Have you any pain?' he asked next. She shook her head.

  'You're in shock and you'll have to keep very quiet for a few days. With luck that'll be the extent of the damage.'

  'How—' she began throatily. 'How,' she repeated more clearly, 'did you know…'

  'Where to find you?'

  'No.' She shook her head again, trying to think clearly. 'How did you know about the avalanche?'

  'I was up there,' he answered flatly.

  She looked at him wide-eyed, questioning, but he didn't enlighten her. His lips tightened, and she decided not to question him further. He was too exhausted to cope.

  'We'll wait till daylight,' he said slowly, 'then we'll use the sledge to get down.' He turned, indicating the large sledge standing upright against the wall. 'They'll assume we'd try to get here if I found you. Once they see the light they'll know we're safe.'

  He looked back at her. 'In a moment I'm going to try and sleep for a while. It's essential, if I'm to get us down, that I'm not too tired.' She nodded. 'But first you must tell me if you're all right.' He looked into her face, frowning slightly in concentration. 'God knows I'd rather spend the time with you,' he said wearily. 'Come.' He got up. 'Try and stand. Then we'll know if anything is hurting.'

  He reached down for her hands and pulled her up. In her thick socks she slipped on the wooden floor and fell heavily against him, her hands gripping him tightly to keep upright. He moved his fingers to her arms and made her stand away from him as he peered anxiously into her face.

  'You're so pale it's difficult to know what you're feeling. While you were asleep,' he went on grimly, 'there were moments when I wasn't sure if you were breathing, you were so still.'

  She smiled at that. 'I'm all right, thank you,' she said quietly. 'Please don't worry about me. You must get some sleep.'

  'Very well,' he sighed, and released her, easing her back on to the bed. Then he moved quietly and lay on the other bed, pulling a blanket over himself. Silently she waited for his easy breathing telling her he was asleep. But it didn't come.

  'I think I'm too tired to sleep,' he said, and sat up.

  Sophie lay back and turned away from the sight of him, her longing to touch him, to soothe him to sleep almost too strong to resist. Under the heavy blanket she clenched her hands, willing her thoughts to other things, but too vitally aware of him to still the trembling of her body, the fast beating of her heart.

  'It's no good,' he said suddenly, and got up, throwing the blanket aside impatiently. 'We have to talk. The words are beating in my brain.'

  Sophie didn't move.

  'I'm thirty-five years old and I've seen a good deal of the world. I've met my share of women and known some of them intimately. But there's never been anyone like you. I know we're virtually strangers; we've spent almost no time together. But somewhere deep down in my bones I know you, Sophie Carter, almost as though you were part of me, of my flesh and blood as I want you to be.'

  Sophie lay still, her back to him, trying to control the trembling of her body.

  'And don't hide from me,' he ground out, striding across and pulling the blanket off her hunched body. 'Look at me.'

  Carefully she sat up and looked at him as he towered above her, anger spilling through the exhaustion in his face. Slipping past him, she walked unsteadily to the fire, sitting on a small stool and looking into the leaping flames, trying to still the thumping of her heart, to hide from him the response she felt at his words.

  Was this love, she wondered suddenly, this yearning for closeness, the acute awareness of every bone and muscle of his body in the confines of the hut? Or was it merely sexual passion, so new to her that she seemed powerless to control it?

  'I'm not going to touch you,' he said softly, misunderstanding her movement. 'But don't imagine I can't tell how you feel. 'I've seen your eyelids quiver as you hide your eyes from me. I've watched your mouth tremble as I look at you. And I've felt your regard on my face as I turn away. I'm aware of you in every fibre of my being,' he went on huskily, 'and my longing for you is there every time I close my eyes and see you again as I did that first time—the black hair cascading down your body, the white pyjamas hiding the secrets of your skin and the beauty of your long legs that I ache to feel closing round me as I lie between them.'

  'Please… no.' Sophie put her hands to her face, flushing with the heat of his lovemaking. His words made her senses swim as though he was touching her, as though his hands were caressin
g her skin and his body was lying against hers.

  'Why, Sophie? Why do you deny us what we both want so ardently? Because you do want it, don't you? Tell me you do.'

  'Please,' she whispered again, her eyes veering from his face, 'I can't… I'm feeling so weak… I don't know what to say.' Her voice broke. 'I'm so thankful—grateful for what you did today. If you hadn't been there… did what… I'd be dead. I'll never forget it.'

  'Stop it!' Max commanded harshly. 'Do you know what I felt when I heard that avalanche and saw you disappear below me? Have you any idea? If I hadn't known already, it would have stared me in the face at that moment. I was ready to dig you out with my bare hands, to find you if I had to sweep away every inch of fallen snow.'

  He got up and stood with his back to her, his head bent to the fire.

  'The fear that I might be too late gripped me so hard I couldn't move with the agony of losing you.' His voice was harsh and his breathing ragged. He turned back to her and reached down to grip her arms, pulling her up to face him.

  She winced at the hard strength of his fingers, and her eyes swam with tears of weakness.

  'Why, Sophie?' he asked again. 'What is it that makes you say no? Are you afraid I might hurt you? Be brutal… clumsy?' His voice softened. 'Don't you know I would be gentle and tender, that I'd want you to share every moment of my pleasure?'

  'I know,' she whispered, and looked up at him, unable to hide her longing for him. Her eyes fell before the passion in his face, her body trembling with the desire to give him what he wanted.

  Only it was all happening too quickly. He was overwhelming her with emotion, and still she wasn't sure what he wanted. Did he expect to make love to her here—tonight—and then leave her tomorrow, walk out of her life? Or did he want an affair with her at the villa while she was working for his family? She didn't know and couldn't bring herself to ask. Miserably she wished she knew more about men.

  And she felt so odd. Her head was dizzy with tension and her mind wouldn't function properly. Her lids were so heavy she was finding it hard to keep her eyes open. In shock, Max had said. Could that be what was the matter with her? Abruptly she sat down, hoping she wouldn't faint at his feet.

  'Later today I go away,' he said, his face now under control, his voice even. 'I've been here too long and telephones are claiming me. I have to return to my responsibilities.'

  Looking down intently into her face, he paused, waiting for her to speak.

  'Well?' he asked at last, and the single, quiet word was almost her undoing, more difficult to resist than his passionate outcry of moments earlier. She felt the tears lock in her throat and longed to throw herself into his arms. But her strength had finally deserted her.

  'Please,' she whispered, 'I can't… I'm not up to this just now.'

  She raised her face pleadingly to his. For a moment he said nothing, then he seemed to come to a decision.

  'And dead on your feet,' he commented finally, and sighed. 'Very well.'

  And then he moved, bending to lift her up into his arms and holding hers tight against him.

  'Give me your lips, Sophie,' he demanded urgently, 'just once.'

  There was nothing she wanted more, and she raised her face. His mouth was a revelation. Never had she imagined such passion and tenderness, demanding and giving until her head swam. And she kissed him back, passionately, opening her mouth to his, responding wildly, urging her body closer to the hard warmth of his. Her hands crept round his back and she could feel the thunder of his heartbeat against her breasts.

  Finally he lifted his head and she touched her lips compulsively against his throat, feeling him tremble against her. He looked down into her eyes as she put back her head, his gaze holding her till she felt she would drown in the green of his eyes, their pupils enlarging darkly, his look holding her captive at the same moment as his arms fell from her body.

  'It will be light soon,' he said roughly, and turned away. 'I can't stay here any longer. Get dressed. We're going.'

  Wordlessly she did as he asked, zipping up her anorak and wrapping herself into the blanket he held out to her.

  Moments later he doused the light and lifted the sledge down from the wall. They walked out of the hut as the glimmer of dawn streaked the darkness of the night sky.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The days that followed were strangely unreal. Almost mechanically Sophie went through the motions of everyday living. The children were fed, walked, bathed and dressed while she responded outwardly to their questions and their needs. But at night, lying in bed, she allowed her turmoil to surface, her thoughts returning constantly to Max and the time they had spent in the small hut in the mountains.

  Over and over she wondered if she had been wise to let him go away. Perhaps even a few weeks with him would have been better than this terrible void, this reluctance to go on living at all without him. Yet why was she so shattered? Had her first brush with sexual passion thrown her off balance? Was it possible her feelings were more than sexual infatuation? The emotions he had aroused in her were so entirely new that she had no yardstick with which to measure them. She had never felt anything like it for any man. Could that account for her inability to forget him? Or could it be that she had fallen in love with him?

  She could find no answers, and night after night her thoughts continued to ramble, giving her no peace and little sleep.

  And the house was a shell without him. The children's father came and went. When he was with them they clamoured round him, demanding his attention, wanting him to play, to ski, to talk or just to cuddle. But his mind, too, seemed to be elsewhere. He looked drawn and was unresponsive. Vaguely Sophie wondered what could be the trouble.

  It was a week after the avalanche that she finally came out of her nightmare world. Walking unexpectedly into the children's day nursery, she saw them huddled in a corner, whispering. At her entrance they stopped talking, their faces guilty as they crouched away from her. Slightly dazed, she touched a hand to her head. What was she doing? These two had enough unhappiness with the break-up of their family and the illness of a familiar nanny, without adding to their confusion. She had to snap out of it and give them the energy and care they needed.

  'What about tea downstairs in front of the fire?' she suggested lightly, and they thawed immediately, throwing themselves at her in their enthusiasm. When consulted, Lisl entered into the spirit of the adventure and lit a fire in the living-room. Even the two dachshunds were allowed into the house. They toasted bread in the flames from the logs and nothing had ever tasted so good to the children as they munched and talked, the dogs blissfully asleep at their side.

  The next morning they all woke to thick snow. The heavy flakes fell in a white cloud past the window panes and there was no question of ski school. Later they would build a snowman, but the morning would be spent inside. Sophie blessed her foresight in bringing games, and dug out her Monopoly.

  They had never played before, and Erika was querulous, finding difficulty in understanding the rules. But Emil was in his element. For the first time Sophie saw him fully stretched, his mind racing ahead, calculating, considering and triumphant with every gain.

  'I'll take the bank now,' he announced loftily after the first game. 'You two can play together. I'll take you both on.'

  The morning passed in a flash and they all looked up in surprise when Lisl appeared to announce lunch.

  'As you're all down here,' she said hesitantly, looking at Sophie, 'I thought perhaps you might like to eat in the kitchen?'

  There was a tense silence as three pairs of blue eyes swivelled to stare at Sophie. She could hear the children hold their breath as they waited for her decision. She guessed it was forbidden, but she hadn't the heart to deny them.

  'What a good idea,' she said calmly, and found herself almost knocked over in the rush as the children headed for the kitchen, the dogs barking excitedly at their heels.

  The two women looked at each other. Lisl shrugged and then grinned a
t Sophie, who smiled back.

  'It is good,' Lisl said, 'you are coming back to the living.'

  That evening the children were asleep as soon as their heads touched the pillows. Even Emil unbent, and gave her a quick hug as she bent to kiss him goodnight.

  The afternoon had continued the good humour of the morning. The snow was still falling and continued too soft to build a snowman, but they had dressed and popped out into the garden to indulge in a fierce snowball fight, bringing colour to their cheeks before they tumbled back into the house ravenous for their evening meal.

  Sophie was in her room, warm and changed into slacks when a soft knock broke through her thoughts. It was Lisl, but without the usual supper tray.

  'I… I thought,' she began shyly, 'I mean—if you like—I've made a schnitzel for supper and I wondered if you—I mean you're all alone…'

  'Could I come down and eat with you?' Sophie asked.

  'Yes, it would be nice. We are both alone: Peter is not in tonight.'

  Downstairs the table was set for two with wine, and Sophie smiled in appreciation at the younger girl as Lisl began to dish up and they sat down.

  'Where is Peter?' Sophie tried to break the slight awkwardness.

  'With his girl-friend. They marry this summer and all the time they sit in each other's lap.' Lisl grinned, her face wide with appreciation at her own joke.

  'What about you?' Sophie asked.

  'I, too, will be married, but not till next year. My Franz is doing his—how do you say?—military service. He comes back at Christmas and we marry in the spring. It all works well because Peter and Christl will live here after they marry and he takes over from me. My Franz and I will work for his parents in the family hotel. One day he will inherit,' Lisl added proudly. 'He is the only son.'

  'So will Christl mind spending her married life here with the von Hartogs instead of having her own home?'