‘I apologise for misjudging you,’ Sebastian murmured to Maggie when the introductions were over. ‘The most prurient gossip in the world couldn’t associate scandal with that idiot. But what about the other one?’

‘José came to see me,’ she murmured. ‘I knew him years ago and he had a boy’s infatuation for me.’

‘And now he plans to make up for lost time?’

‘So it would seem.’

‘He’s far too young for you.’

‘Thank you!’ she said, half-laughing, half-indignant. ‘It’s a matter of three years.’

‘Years,’ he said dismissively. ‘Did you think I was talking about years?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said tartly, although she actually knew very well.

She told herself she was annoyed with Sebastian for coming here. They had agreed that it was a question of honour. Where was his honour now? But then, where was hers to have felt that lifting of the heart at the sight of him? Was it honourable to notice how handsome he was, how much taller than every other man, and how everyone looked at him, especially the women?

But then she told herself to stop being melodramatic. There were six of them. What could happen?

Sebastian gallantly informed the ladies that he would meet them for lunch in an hour. José and Horacio would also be welcome. Horacio prepared to carry Catalina’s booty up to her suite, but at a nod from Sebastian Alfonso firmly removed the parcels.

They ate in the open at the hotel’s balcony restaurant, which seemed to hang over a sheer drop. Above them rose the splendid vista of the mountains, the white broken only by little coloured figures dashing down the slopes.

‘How can they do that when it’s as steep as a wall?’ Catalina squealed, covering her eyes with her hand.

‘Catalina is happiest on very easy runs,’ Maggie explained to Sebastian.

‘But if you want to try the red or black,’ Catalina offered, ‘I shall-I shall watch you.’

She finished with an air of triumph. Everyone laughed at this anticlimax, and Sebastian said something polite about her forbearance.

Catalina was as good as her word. When the meal was over, they all went up to the top of a red run that made her gulp, but raised Maggie’s spirits. She looked at it so longingly that Sebastian read her face.

‘Go on,’ he said, grinning. ‘You can leave Catalina with me.’

She needed no more urging, but raced away with José in hot pursuit. It was glorious. For the first time since coming to Spain she felt free, speeding down the slope so fast that her furies were left far behind. José could barely keep up. At the bottom they immediately joined the queue for the ski lift, and reached the top in time to see the other four beginning the descent in a careful convoy, Catalina flanked by Sebastian and Alfonso, with Horacio bringing up the rear.

‘This I have to see.’ José chuckled. ‘Coming?’

‘You bet!’ she cried, taking off ahead of him.

They passed the others on the way down, reaching the bottom first and waiting for them with grins on their faces. Sebastian scowled. He was an expert skier who’d had his sport ruined by a nervous novice and, since he was no saint but a fallible man whose pleasures were few, he wasn’t in the best of moods.

‘I’m sorry,’ Catalina said, at her most charming.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said resignedly. ‘But be off with you to the nursery slopes. I’ll see you at dinner. Not you,’ he detained Maggie.

‘I must go with Catalina,’ she protested.

‘Horacio can go with her,’ he growled. ‘So can Alfonso, and José, and every man on the mountain for all I care. Did you say something?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, trying to keep a straight face.

In the end they separated into two parties. Sebastian and Maggie returned to the top of the ‘red’, while the other four made their way to a nice, safe ‘green’.

‘Whose idea was it for Catalina to try that run?’ Maggie asked as they settled themselves on either side of the lift and felt the chain tighten, beginning to pull them up again.

‘Mine, for my sins,’ he growled. ‘I thought she just needed a little encouragement, but we proceeded at a snail’s pace, then she freaked out and we nearly had a collision with the skiers behind us-stop laughing, damn you!’ But he was grinning.

‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had a good dash down the slope,’ she said cheerfully. ‘There’s nothing like it for getting rid of the tensions. Mind you, “black” is even better.’

‘You ski “black”?’ he asked, turning his head and looking at her with interest.

‘When I can. How about you?’

‘I like it above everything.’

She looked him in the eyes. ‘Really?’ she said brightly. ‘Then I hope you’re not planning to spend your honeymoon skiing.’

Sebastian ground his teeth. ‘Perhaps you should give your attention to the snow. We’re nearly there.’

Skiing with Sebastian was even more exhilarating than with José, who either travelled beside or just behind her. Sebastian edged in front in what might or might not have been a silent challenge. She tested him, urging her skis faster, but he kept just ahead.

He was beautiful to watch, smooth and graceful, turning with ease, never losing his rhythm or his control. It took all Maggie’s skill to match him at every point, but she managed it. At the bottom they stood for a moment, leaning on their skis, breathing hard, smiling.

‘Again?’ he asked.

She nodded.

They took the lift again, and as they glided upwards Sebastian suddenly turned his head and gave her a full-hearted grin. He was almost a different man and she guessed, because it was the same with her, that the hell-for-leather run had done this to him. He too had known the joy of cares left far behind as he flew down the mountain, and for the first time she wondered about the weight of those cares. He was an autocrat, and sometimes a heavy-handed one, but she had seen how he’d looked after Isabella, not merely making phone calls and giving orders, but taking the old woman’s hand between his, speaking to her gently, and calming her fears with kindness.

The next moment, almost as though their minds were connected, he said, ‘When I was a boy I practically lived in these mountains. Nothing mattered to me but skiing. I lived and breathed it, and dreamed of competing in the Olympics. They say I would have won a medal, perhaps a gold.’

The last words were said without arrogance, only a touch of wistfulness.

‘What happened?’ Maggie asked.

‘When I was eighteen my father died, and I had to take charge of everything.’

‘Couldn’t you have done the Olympics first?’ Maggie asked sympathetically.

‘That’s what I thought at the time. But the lawyers explained all that I needed to do, how many people on my lands depended on me.’ He shrugged. ‘And that was that.’

That was that. With this bleak little phrase he consigned the boy’s dream to perdition, shouldering a burden years before his time. He had been the same age that Catalina was now.

‘How sad for you,’ she said.

‘Nonsense!’ he growled. ‘I always knew what my life had to be. My father trained me for it.’

‘But you didn’t expect him to die so soon, surely? There should have been a few years for your own dreams first.’

‘Yes,’ he said after a moment. ‘There should have been. Here we are at the top.’

The moment had passed. He was Sebastian again, scowling to cover his embarrassment at having given her a glimpse into his heart.

They did the run five times. As they walked back to the hotel through the snow Maggie said wistfully, ‘There’s a run here that’s so steep it’s known as the “Wall of Death”. I’ve never dared try it yet, but I’m going to come back and do it just once before I go.’

‘Don’t!’ he said at once. ‘I’ve done that run and it’s no place for a woman.’

‘How nice to know that you’ll be on your honeymoon,’ she said tartly, ‘well away from me, and unable to give me orders.’

‘You take precious little notice of any order of mine anyway.’

‘True. And this one I shall ignore completely.’

He stopped in the entrance to the hotel. ‘It’s not an order, Margarita. It’s a plea. I’ve done that run and it isn’t known as the “Wall of Death” for nothing. You’re a good skier, and perhaps if there was somebody there with you-a friend to care for you-but there won’t be. It would worry me to think of you doing it alone. Promise me that you won’t.’

There was an unfamiliar note in his voice, almost the warmth and gentleness of a true friend. It made Maggie say impulsively, ‘All right, I promise.’

He took her hand. ‘Thank you. That means a lot to me.’

But then she recollected herself, remembered that in a few weeks he would be married to another woman and out of her life forever. She swiftly withdrew her hand and said brightly, ‘I’ll hire a professional for the day and he’ll guard me like a mother hen. Now, shall we get inside? I’m hungry.’

They found the others already in the balcony café. The three young men rose at their approach, and Alfonso went off to find a waiter. Sebastian seated himself beside Catalina, and waved José to the seat on his other side. This left Horacio sitting blissfully next to Catalina. Watching the moonstruck youth strain her good nature to the limit Maggie wondered if Sebastian had more sense of humour than she’d credited him with.

Sebastian turned his attention to José. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I know someone who’s interested in exactly the kind of goods you supply, and would like to arrange an early meeting.’ He pushed a small paper over to José. ‘That’s his number. Call him now.’

José vanished and returned with the news that he had an appointment for the next afternoon.

‘Then you should leave immediately and spend this evening with your files,’ Sebastian said with a smile of ice. ‘This man will expect you to be extremely well prepared. Let’s say our goodbyes now, to avoid delaying you.’