A Slippery Slope by Emily Harvale

away.
    She
knew she’d have to talk to him eventually but she also knew she couldn’t face
him, or the fact that their marriage was over, without bursting into floods of
tears. She wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as she possibly could.
    ‘May
I help you with that?’ Josh’s voice brought her back to the present.
    She
turned to find him standing directly behind her, so close that she could smell
his subtle aftershave and feel his breath on her face. Unwittingly, she took a
step back.
    ‘I
think I can manage to pour wine without any help, Mr Calder.’ She saw his eyes
narrow and his jaw clench. ‘But thank you for the offer,’ she added hastily.
‘Red or white?’
    ‘Red,
please. And stop calling me Mr Calder, will you?’ He dragged a hand through his
hair.
    He
seemed to do that a lot Verity noticed, wondering what his thick and rather
unruly, dark hair felt like. Would it be soft to the touch? Would it be coarse?
It needed a trim, being just an inch or so too long; it brushed against the
collar of the white shirt he was wearing beneath his navy blue jumper. She
shook herself mentally, took a deep breath and poured the wine.
    ‘And
what exactly would you like me to call you?’ She held the glass of wine out to
him.
    ‘Certainly
not a miserable git! Call me Josh. Everyone does,’ he said with a smile
hovering on his lips.
    She
smiled in return and feigned an air of friendly indifference but as he took the
glass and his fingers brushed hers, she felt as if she’d been stung by a bee
and she snatched her hand away so quickly that the glass tipped up, spilling
wine onto the floor.
    ‘Shit!’
she said, meeting his eyes momentarily before hurriedly depositing the bottle
on the table and dashing towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll get a cloth.’
    Verity
shoved the kitchen door open and Lucy stepped away from Etienne with a half
guilty, half disappointed look in her eyes.
    ‘What’s
up?’Lucy asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.
    ‘I’ve
just spilt wine all over the floor,’ Verity said, wondering if she had
interrupted something between Etienne and her daughter. She wet a cloth under
the tap, and with another quick glance at her daughter’s flushed cheeks, she
headed back towards the dining room. ‘If I’m not on the next plane back to the
UK by the end of this evening, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle!’
    Josh
was wiping the front of his jumper with a handkerchief and Verity realised that
it wasn’t just the floor she’d spilt wine on. Had it soaked through to his
white shirt? She hoped not. She watched, almost mesmerised as his hand
travelled down to his charcoal grey trousers and she saw three large, deep red
splashes just below his waist and down his right thigh.
    ‘May
I help you with that?’ she asked, realising too late exactly what she’d just
offered to do.
    She
wondered what on earth had come over her. Was it the alpine air? Was she
suffering from some sort of delirium-inducing altitude sickness? Had she
suddenly turned into a lonely, desperate woman who was gagging for it?
Something had happened to her because as she stood there watching Josh Calder,
that’s exactly how she felt!
    He
raised his head and as his eyes met hers, she wasn’t sure if she saw surprise,
amusement or anger in them. The corners of his mouth twitched and lowering his
head again, he continued dabbing at the stains.
    ‘I
think I can manage, thanks. Perhaps another time.’
    ‘There
won’t be another time, I assure you. I’ll be more careful in future.’
    She
could feel him watching her as she knelt at his feet mopping up the wine and
silently telling herself to stop acting like a besotted sixteen-year-old. She
was irritated that he hadn’t stepped back. If she raised her head now, her face
would be ... 
    ‘Are
you okay down there?’ Josh asked, bending down and taking the cloth from her
hands. He stood up and held out a hand to help raise her to her feet.
    She
ignored the proffered hand