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Proposal At The Winter Ball. Jessica Gilmore
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Автор произведения Jessica Gilmore
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
‘Because this stuff is what keeps the local economy ticking over. You can’t market yourself as a winter wonderland without the cold white stuff.’
‘It’s like Narnia.’ Flora leaned back and stared with enraptured eyes as the car took them higher and higher. On one side the mountains soared high above them, on the other the town was spread out like a child’s toy village, the river cutting through the middle like an icily silver scarf. ‘How much further? I thought the hotel was in Innsbruck itself.’
‘No, it’s above the town, close to the ski lifts. The guests are transported in and out at will so they get the best of both worlds. That’s the idea anyway, nothing too much effort for them.’
‘They are paying enough for it,’ Flora pointed out. ‘I cannot believe I get to stay somewhere this luxurious. Even the staff quarters are probably one up on a tent in the rain.’
‘You’re not in the staff quarters. Could you really see Lola in anywhere but a suite? You’re doing her job, you get her room. Tomorrow is the soft opening so nobody who stays at the hotel this week is an actual paying guest. We’ll be helping to wow travel journalists, bloggers and some influential winter sports enthusiasts.’
He paused, searching for the right words. He knew how awkward she felt in crowds and amongst strangers. ‘Flora, it’s crucial that they all leave at the end of the week completely bowled over. And it’s equally crucial that I leave with fully approved designs. You can manage, can’t you? I can’t emphasise enough what a big deal this week is. For me, for my firm as well as for Lusso Hotels.’
‘Really? How good of you to warn me. I might have put my foot in it otherwise.’
Warning bells tolled through Alex’s mind. She sounded frostier than the branches on the trees outside. It was the same tone she’d used the day he’d told her that one day she would grow out of boy bands, the tone she’d used the day he had told her that her first boyfriend wasn’t good enough. The same tone she’d used the never to be forgotten day she’d chopped her hair into a pixie cut and he had agreed that, yes, she did look more like a marine than like Audrey Hepburn.
‘I only meant...’
‘I know what you mean: be professional, don’t mess this up. Well, I won’t. I need this too, Alex. I might not have founded a “Top Ten Up and Coming Business” while in my twenties, I might not be the bright young thing in my profession. Not yet. I have a lot to prove and this is my big chance. So don’t worry about me. I’ve got this covered.’
Alex opened his mouth to point out that she hid in the kitchen at every single party she attended and would rather face a den full of lions than make small talk but he shut it again. He needed to warn her just how much networking lay ahead of her but not now. He’d wait until she was a little mellower.
Luckily the car turned down a single-track road, cut into the side of the mountain, a dramatic drop on one side showcasing the valley spread out below. ‘We’re here,’ he said instead with some relief. The car slid to a stop and Alex unbuckled his seat belt. ‘This is Der Steinadler—The Golden Eagle. What do you think?’
She had been looking at him intently, forcing her point home, but at his words she turned and looked out of the window. Her mouth fell open. ‘Holy cow. You did this? This is it?’
‘Yep, what do you think?’
‘I...’ She didn’t answer, clambering out of the car instead, muttering as her trainer-clad foot sank into the snow and pulling her quilted jacket more closely around her as the sharp chill of the wintry mountain air hit. She turned to him as he joined her. ‘All that time spent playing with building blocks as a kid wasn’t wasted, huh?’
The hotel was built on the narrow Alpine shelf and looked as if it were suspended above Innsbruck spread out in the valley below, the mountains opposite a living, breathing picture framed through the dramatic windows. Alex had eschewed the traditional chalet design; instead he had used the locally sourced golden wood as a frame for great sheets of glass. The hotel should have looked out of place, too industrial for the tranquil setting, and yet somehow it blended in, the trees and mountains reflecting back from the many panes of glass.
Every time he saw it, it was like being punched in the chest. He couldn’t believe he had made his ambitious vision a reality. ‘You like?’
Her cheeks were glowing and her large, full mouth curved into a smile. ‘I love it. Alex, it’s wonderful.’
Relief flooded through him. He wasn’t sure why her opinion mattered so much. It wasn’t just that she was his oldest friend. No, he trusted her taste. If she didn’t get it then he wouldn’t have communicated his vision properly. ‘Come on, then. Let’s go inside. I think you might combust when you see the swimming pool.’
‘SHOW ME AROUND, ALEX! It’s not every day a girl gets the architect providing the grand tour.’
‘Don’t you want to see your room and freshen up first?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m quite fresh, thank you, and you can conclude the tour at my room.’ Flora watched the bellboy pile her bags and coat onto his trolley and sighed happily. ‘This is a lot better than lugging a tent over three fields—and then having to go back for the beds. Besides, you want me to get an idea of what the client wants? The best way is for me to take a detailed look around.’
Her first impression was of luxurious comfort rather than cold, chic elegance. The whole interior of the hotel was the same mix of glass and wood as the outside but softened with warm colours and plenty of plants, abstract prints and comfy-looking cushions and sofas to mellow the potentially stark effect.
Alex shrugged off his designer ski jacket, a coat that had probably cost more than Flora’s entire suitcase of clothes, and gestured. ‘Where do you want to start?’
‘Bottom and work our way up?’
‘Okay, then, get ready to combust. We’re heading down to the pool.’
If Flora didn’t actually burst into excitable flames when she saw the swimming pool it was a close-run thing. Housed a floor below the hotel entrance in a space carved out of the alpine shelf, the high-ceilinged pool was enclosed by a dramatic wall of glass. Swimming up to the edge of the pool must feel like swimming to the very edge of the mountain itself, she thought, staring out at the white peaks, as if you might plunge over the side, dive down to the valley below.
The lights were low and intimately flattering, padded sofas were dotted around in discreet corners, and whirlpools, saunas and steam rooms were hidden away behind glazed sliding doors. Tables held jugs of iced water and inviting platters of fruit; thick fluffy towels were piled up on wooden shelves.
‘Oh.’ She pivoted, taking in every single detail. ‘I just want to grab a magazine from that beautifully overstuffed bookshelf, pull on a robe and move into this room for ever. May I? Please?’
But Alex ignored her. ‘Come on, next stop the lounge and then I’ll take you to your room.’
By the time they reached her room Flora had scribbled down plenty of notes and photographed enough details to give her a good place to start. Obviously the designs she came up with for the Bali hotel would need to be unique, to marry with Alex’s vision and the setting, but it was good for her to have an idea of the owner’s tastes. She could see why Lola had used the palate she had; it was warming, sumptuous and complemented the natural materials prevalent throughout the building. The soft furnishings and décor were all shades of soft cream, gold, bronze and orange, whether it was the bronze and orange stripes on the cushions or the subtle champagne of the robes and the towels, the same colour