Christmas in the Snow (44 page)

‘She’s scarcely twenty years older than us,’ Isobel pointed out with an unimpressed expression.

‘Well, maybe he . . .’ Allegra searched for the words. ‘He needed a nurse
and
a wife and he decided to . . . economize?’

Isobel’s nose wrinkled even more. ‘That just makes him sly.’

Allegra gave up. ‘Oh, I don’t know. What I do know is that we have to get ready and be upstairs in forty-five minutes. Zhou’s parents are having drinks in the sitting
room.’

‘Oh
shit
!’ Isobel hissed. ‘You don’t mean I’ve got to go up there too.’

‘Well, you can hardly hide out in their own house. They have to at least meet you!’ Allegra laughed in exasperation.

‘But they’re the . . . I mean, they’re the . . . actual . . . scary ones.’

‘If you mean they’re rich, yes. But that doesn’t make them scary. I’ve met Zhou’s father and he’s very nice. You’ll like him.’

Isobel looked back at her with a panicked expression. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I promise. Now go and get changed and let me have a shower.’

‘OK.’ Isobel hopped off, more wobbly on her crutches than before, back to her own room.

Allegra shut the bedroom door behind her and turned, falling back against it hard as she found Sam standing by the bathroom door, one arm raised above his head on the frame, in just his boxer
shorts.

‘Sam! What the hell are you doing there?’ she whispered furiously, her hands over her heart as she pulled herself upright again on wobbly legs. ‘How long have you been in
here?’

‘I’m sorry!’ he laughed, amused by her reaction. ‘I heard you coming up in the lift and came in here to surprise you, but then Isobel came in too! What was I supposed to
do? I couldn’t think of a single damned reason I could give her as to why I should be standing in your shower.’

‘So you
hid
?’ An amused grin cracked across her face. ‘That’s pretty demeaning.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he smiled, with an expression that spelled out their affair as clearly as a ‘Sam hearts Allegra’ tattoo.

‘But how did you even get in without Iz seeing you? She said she’d been walking in the hall for an hour.’

He tossed his head in the direction of the sliding doors and her eyes scanned the balconies behind him. ‘You climbed over the verandas?’

‘You’re making it sound more impressive than it actually was,’ he grinned. ‘But if you’d like to believe I’m heroic, by all means . . .’ He walked
towards her with a look that made her heart as skippy as an antelope. ‘Not that there’s any point in us going to these lengths to hide. She’ll probably guess the moment she sees
us – and that’s if Massi doesn’t tell her first. We’re not fooling anybody apparently; he said on the train this morning it was like watching children hide sweets under
their pillows.’

‘Oh.’

She went still, knowing what he was really saying – he wanted them to go public; he wanted this to be more than just two nights and one morning of crazy, stupid recklessness that could
undo both their careers.

‘I’ve pitched for the deal,’ she blurted out. ‘On my own.’

A silence bloomed and she rushed to fill it. ‘You know, with the new proposal I drafted?’

He didn’t reply.

‘Remember? When I forgot to reschedule the meeting?’

‘All I really remember is you standing in front of me with a bare back and your dress ready to fall down.’ A light glimmered in his eyes at the memory.

The joke threw her. Him not shouting threw her.

‘You . . . you don’t seem upset.’

He shrugged. ‘Why would I be upset?’

‘Because I’ll win the deal, Sam. My package is amazing. I’ve never done such a good job. There’ll be no way they can turn me down.’

A smile played on his lips. ‘Legs, no one in their right mind could turn you down.’

She stared at him. He’d called her Legs? He thought this was funny? ‘I don’t understand why you’re not freaking out.’

He smiled, his eyes so soft. ‘Listen, don’t you think I knew the second Zhou coerced you into staying here that he’d got you in on some pitch ticket? I didn’t flatter
myself to think you had come to pick things up where we’d left them in Zurich.’

She blinked in bafflement. ‘So then you’re not . . . ? It’s not a problem?’

He laughed, walking over and wrapping his arms around her. ‘Legs, I’m not going to throw my toys out of the pram if I find myself on the wrong side of the conference table to you.
Your ambition and brilliance and tenacity are some of the things I . . . I admire most about you.’

She blinked at the near miss. They both knew what he’d almost said, and as his mouth covered hers again, she knew this thing between them was fast getting out of control.

It was Mrs Yong’s laughter that she heard first, the crystalline sound of femininity blowing through the house like a spring breeze as Massi and Sam stood beside her in
front of the lit fire, glasses in hands, polite smiles on their faces.

Sam was wearing a navy suit, no tie, freshly shaven and freshly showered. If they only knew, she thought with a flutter in her stomach as she approached; what they’d been doing twenty
minutes ago in that shower had been as far away from clean cut as it was possible to get.

Mr Yong and Zhou were nowhere to be seen and Massi looked back at her with grateful eyes, like a bored child at an adults’ party, Sam with adoring ones that paid no heed to her pleas to
keep their relationship a secret from the Yongs – at least until the details of the deal had been announced.

But this was no time for distractions. The moment of reckoning was upon them all and she squared her shoulders as she walked, making rapid visual deductions with each step. Mrs Yong was taller
than she had expected – five feet eight and very slim, with jet hair styled short. Pearl globes were fastened at her ears and throat, and she wore a navy wool Valentino skirt suit with a
satin bow at the neck. Her face was beautiful, so finely boned she was almost birdlike, and as Allegra came to a stop in front of her, she showed that her smile had been passed to her son.

‘Miss Fisher, I have heard so very much about you.’ Her handshake was firm and perfectly pitched, her English better than most Brits’.

‘The pleasure is mine, Mrs Yong. I am deeply honoured to have been invited into your home, especially at such a special time of year. You must be relieved to be here at last.’ Out of
the corner of her eye, she noticed Sam’s stare change as he slowly realized she was wearing his pale pink shirt with her black trousers. He was already up here when she’d darted into
his room and pinched it in panic, once she’d been faced again with the limitations of her wardrobe out here.

‘I am. It does become very wearing living in hotels all the time, and this is our favourite home. Estelle does a marvellous job of making everything so inviting. Don’t you agree the
town is just so pretty at this time of year?’

‘It’s magical,’ Allegra smiled, fiddling with the rolled-back cuffs. ‘It’s my first visit here, so I’ve been non-stop enchanted.’

‘Sam and Massi have been telling me how much skiing they’ve been doing. Apparently the snow’s wonderful this season.’

‘Oh yes, we’re so lucky with this early fall. It’s certainly among the best I’ve known.’

‘They’re talking about potentially doing the Haute Route later in the season. Do you know it?’

‘Chamonix to Zermatt? I’ve never done it myself,’ Allegra said. ‘Do you ski?’

Mrs Yong laughed again, that light tinkling sound skittering over the polished surfaces like a sprite. ‘Well, if you asked my son, he’d say no, I don’t. I am not what you would
call a speed freak. I like to keep my skiing . . .’ She thought, considering the word carefully. ‘Tidy.’

‘Tidy. I like that,’ Allegra smiled back. ‘I should keep it in mind myself. I grew up with a speed freak for a sister, so in trying to keep up, I’ve learned to ski by
clattering down everything without any style.’

‘Yes, your sister. Isobel, isn’t it? How is she?’

‘Much better, thank you. In fact, she should be up any minute. She was getting changed when I passed her room just now. She’s finding it rather slow going, getting used to the
crutches.’

‘Of course she is. Oh dear, the poor thing. What rotten luck taking that fall.’

‘Oh, talk of the devil.’

Estelle came into the room, sweeping chairs and rugs out of the way like a minesweeper as Isobel followed several seconds behind her, panting and with flushed cheeks, her long encased leg held
out in front of her as she planted and swung her way into the room – wearing last night’s gold mesh dress.

A stunned silence greeted her arrival and Allegra felt her smile freeze.

Oh good God. Who did she think she was lunching with? The Kardashians?

Isobel stopped moving as she took in everybody’s sombre clothes – work shirts and trousers, low-key couture – and a look of such abject horror and panic ran across her face
that Massi, Allegra
and
Mrs Yong all advanced towards her in a rush. But it was Mrs Yong who got there first.

‘You must be Isobel,’ Mrs Yong smiled, putting her arms lightly around Isobel’s shoulders and guiding her towards the sofa. ‘I’m Lucy Yong. Do take a seat
here.’

‘Oh, really I-I’m fine,’ Isobel stammered, trying to smile, but her mouth tipping grotesquely down, perilously close to tears.

‘But you must be so tired having to get about on those things,’ Lucy Yong insisted. ‘And to be perfectly honest,
I’d
be glad of the excuse to sit. My feet are
killing me.’ She smiled, perching on the sofa beside her and directing Estelle to place the cushion on the ottoman for Isobel’s leg. ‘Are you chilly? It is quite cool in
here.’

Isobel looked at her blankly, before realizing a rope was being thrown out to her. She nodded.

‘Estelle, would you get my cream cardigan from the bedroom, please? It’s the Loro Piana.’

‘Yes, Mrs Yong.’ Estelle left the room at almost a sprint.

Allegra, who had walked back to the fireplace and was now standing beside Sam, wanted to throw her arm around their hostess’s shoulders and weep with gratitude. Such small mercies . .
.

But they were all out of time. The sound of voices came into the hall, growing nearer, and Allegra realized Mr Yong and Zhou had been in the study. She realized they must have been discussing
her proposal.

In an instant, her mouth dried up and she swallowed, her eyes flitting anxiously to Sam, who had the nerve not to be looking concerned at all. She felt something graze her wrist and looked down
to find his finger stroking her gently. When she looked back up at him, he just winked.

‘Oh . . .’ Mrs Yong glanced back at Isobel, who looked like she was trying to dig her way down and hibernate in the cushions. ‘Really, he’s very distracted at the moment.
Don’t worry a bit,’ she said as Mr Yong came into the room.

‘Ah, husband,’ Mrs Yong smiled, getting up from the sofa and reaching towards him with a gracious arm. ‘It is cool in here. Come and join us by the fire.’

He strode across the room with a march that was scarcely less than an imperial goosestep, staring at Allegra as he approached, and she knew from the fractional tilt of his head that he had seen
the pitch. Nothing in his body language told her, though, which way he was going to go.

‘Miss Fisher, it is an honour to see you again,’ he said formally, walking up to her and bowing.

‘The honour is mine, Mr Yong.’ Her voice was assured, her movements minimal as she echoed the bow, and they both fell into the roles they had assumed at their first meeting in
Zurich, even though they were now in his home. ‘I am humbled to be invited to your home at this special time. Your son has been a generous and thoughtful host.’

‘My son makes me a proud father,’ Yong replied, the formalities observed.

Allegra bowed her head in reply, not daring to look across at Isobel. She could only imagine the look on her sister’s face right now.

Yong looked over to Sam, his back erect, holding his champagne glass by the stem, one hand in his trouser pocket. ‘Sam.’

‘Mr Yong. Happy Christmas.’ They shook hands.

‘You and my son have not been terrorizing the locals, I hope.’

A half-smile twitched the corner of the mouth that had last kissed hers only twenty minutes earlier. ‘Categorically not, sir. We’re far too old for that kind of mischief these
days.’

Yong smiled, his face softening exponentially. ‘Good. There are only so many times I can bribe the mayor.’

Allegra glanced down at her own drink as the ease between the two men stood in stark contrast to her rigid formality. What if Zhou had been wrong? Yong circled back into space on the floor and
she sensed the moment had come for the decision. After weeks of waiting, it was here as suddenly as a slap.

He was about to begin talking when Estelle suddenly came back into the room with the cherished cardigan in her hands and hastened over to Isobel, sliding her arms in with a speed and efficiency
that would have brought pride to a military sniper.

Mr Yong looked astonished to notice the broken young golden woman sitting obscured by cushions on his sofa.

But Mrs Yong had that covered too. ‘Husband, you recall that Miss Fisher’s sister, Isobel, is staying with us too? She is a good friend of Zhou’s, and Dr Baden insisted she
should not be moved until her leg improved.’

Mr Yong looked at his wife, perplexed but obedient. ‘Of course. Of course,’ he said, hesitantly bowing his head at Isobel as she hesitantly bowed back, clutching the cardigan closed
over her chest, and using a large cushion to obscure her legs. ‘You are . . . healing, I hope?’

‘I am, thank you.’

‘Good. Good.’

‘And your doctor’s just lovely. He’s been really nice to me – all your staff have.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear.’

There was a tiny silence. ‘Thank you very much for letting us stay.’

‘It is my great pleasure.’

‘Your home is lovely.’

‘Thank you.’

‘The wallpaper in my room is—’

Oh God. Allegra could see her sister beginning to relax with the billionaire she’d been so frightened of meeting, and she gave a sudden cough, pretending to choke a little on her drink.
Isobel had no idea of the enormity of this moment.