12 Gifts for Christmas

“It’s nothing personal against you, amado,” she’d said with a winsome smile. “The insurance will cover it.”

The calculating side of her nature shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did, killing any feelings he’d had for her. He’d broken off the engagement, and no amount of winsome smiles, tears or begging could move him to take her back. His best friend, Raoul, a mountaineer from Chamonix, France, with whom he’d shared so much over the last decade, had told him to be thankful for what had happened. It had saved Des from making the biggest mistake of his life.

Des agreed it’d been a miraculous escape, but it had shredded his trust and had changed the way he viewed women. They had been a source of pleasure for him, but no longer. Now that the Christmas season had rolled around once again, he wanted no part of females or festivities.

Raoul was the only person who knew what was going on inside him. His French friend carried his own brand of pain after losing his wife some years ago and more recently his brother. Raoul had also wanted to avoid the holidays so he’d suggested they take a climbing trip to South America.

Relieved to have a plan of escape, Des had been working all hours of the day and night, making his rounds of the family-owned hotels in preparation for the upcoming trip. But a few weeks ago Raoul, whose family owned and ran the legendary Broussard Alpine Guide Club in the French Alps, had called to tell him his father wasn’t doing well. Jules’s asthma was acting up and the family was worried about him.

Raoul couldn’t say how long it would take his father to get over this latest flare-up and in case it turned into something worse, he’d feared making definitive plans with Des only to have to cancel on him later. Though Des had been disappointed, he understood. In truth he wasn’t fit company for anyone, let alone the man who was the closest thing he had to a brother. Before he’d left his headquarters in Zaragoza yesterday, he’d been uncustomarily short with his second-in-command when the man had suggested—in the most tactful way, of course—that Des should take a month off and really enjoy himself. And just today the manager of the hotel in Jaca had asked, very politely, if Des could hold off on their meeting until after he returned from his winter holiday.

One more hairpin turn and Puerto d’Ara came into view, with its ski lifts and hotels. Approximately 1,800 people lived here year-round, making their living off tourists. He took the perimeter road to avoid the resort center’s shops and bars. Just past the clinic with its large red cross on the roof was the small monastery facing the Pico d’Ara. It was a quirky masterpiece of stone and beams with different levels, nooks and crannies, perfect for its conversion to a family-friendly inn.

He kept his own apartment on the ground floor, its only entrance an exterior one around the side. No doubt at one time it had served as a cell for a priest who’d wanted complete isolation. Since Des had been living the life of a monk this past year, the monastic atmosphere suited his foul mood very well.

The parking lot outside the inn was full. Des wasn’t surprised; business was always good here. He pulled to a stop in the staff parking and shut off the motor, relieved to have reached his destination. Still having no appetite and feeling a bit off, he decided to go straight to bed. Though his manager was expecting him, tomorrow would be soon enough to unload all his gear and let Miguel know he’d arrived.

“All-ee,” a young voice cried out before knocking on the door again.

Allison Bonner loved the way the eight-year-old daughter of the Torrillas family pronounced her name.

She finished putting her light brown hair in a ponytail and hurried across the hotel room to open the door. “Good morning, Maricela.”

“Good morning.” They gave each other a big hug. “Mama says to come and eat before it’s all gone.”

Breakfast in the cozy inn was served from seven to ten. Ally checked her watch. It was close to ten now.

“I’m almost ready.”

“You look pretty.”

“Well, thank you.” Ally’s navy-blue cable-knit sweater and jeans were nothing to write home about. Maybe it was the mango-colored lipstick she’d put on after her shower to add some color. “So do you. I especially like that top.”

The girl was wearing a colorful pullover of geometric designs in blues and reds, over red pants.

Maricela beamed. “Thanks.”

Inez, Maricela’s mother, had urged her twins to speak English with Ally. It was good practice for them and easier for Ally, who knew very little Spanish except for a few words and phrases.

“You’re welcome,” Ally said.

The girl’s mother had put Maricela’s dark hair in braids, Ally saw, and she looked adorable in the new cowboy hat and boots Ally had brought her from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Maricela and her twin brother, Nuncio, were smart, wonderful children with shiny deep brown eyes and beautiful features like their mother’s.

More than a year ago Miguel and Inez had brought their family to the Teton Range in Wyoming for a vacation. They’d stayed at her family’s famous dude ranch outside Afton.

The Bonners were a large family. Ally and her siblings helped her parents and grandparents run the ranch and also acted as guides for their guests.

From the first moment Ally had met the charming, attractive Torrillas family, the twins had helped fill part of the empty space in Ally’s aching heart. At the time, she’d still been recovering from her fiancé’s death in a tragic rafting accident on the Snake River and trying not to think about the wedding that had been planned for the next month.

During the two weeks of the family’s stay in September, Ally had spent most of her time showing the children around. They rode horses and fished. Hiked. Because the Torrillas family lived year-round in the Spanish Pyrenees and were no strangers to mountains, Ally, who was a trained mountaineer, took the family partway up the Grand Teton, which knifed almost 14,000 feet in the rarified air.

Those experiences had cemented their relationship. When the family had had to return to Spain, they’d begged Ally to come for a vacation anytime she wanted and be their guest. She’d thanked them for the gracious offer and had actually planned to come this past summer, only certain unexpected detours in life had prevented her from traveling until now.

Her family wasn’t happy about Ally being gone over the holidays, but she’d planned it this way on purpose. Christmas was the last thing on her mind. Though her cancer was in remission, there was always the possibility it would come back. From now on she intended to live life to the fullest and defy the odds.

After tugging on her own well-worn cowboy boots, which added a little more height to her five-foot-six frame, Ally left the room with Maricela at her side. They followed the stone passageway that led around to the timbered dining room with its vaulted ceilings. The children had told her when she arrived that it had once been a refectory for the Benedictine monks. The children knew all of the inn’s fascinating history.

A tall, brightly decorated Christmas tree stood near the enormous fireplace in the dining room. It threw out heat while a few guests dressed for skiing were still lingering at the long tables with their food before hitting the slopes. She spotted Nuncio in his cowboy hat sitting at the far end of one of the tables talking to his father and a male guest. Ally was glad the Western gear had been such a hit with the children.

Maricela headed straight for her father, but Ally didn’t want to intrude and instead went over to the cafeteria-style service bar where the guests could help themselves to a wonderful array of dishes. She fixed herself a plate of fruit and eggs and ham rollups.

“Ally? Come over here and join us,” Miguel called to her. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

CHAPTER TWO

ALLY turned in her friend Miguel’s direction and walked toward him. Then she abruptly halted when she met a pair of eyes so fiery black and piercing, she felt scorched by them. They belonged to the man sitting across from Miguel—a sophisticated-looking Spaniard with his glossy black hair tied at the nape with a thong.

She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, like Miguel.

Beneath the man’s sculpted black brows, his gaze made a swift assessment of Ally’s body, traveling from her cowboy boots to the crown of her head. He said nothing, but she felt instinctively there was something about her that displeased him. Why? She hadn’t even met him. She fought to tamp down her flare of temper.

“Allison Bonner, please meet Señor Desidiero Pastrana, my boss. He’s also the CEO of the Pastrana luxury hotel chain that operates throughout Spain. I told him you’d arrived from the States a few days ago and will be our guest for a while.”

The impossibly handsome, olive-skinned Spaniard got to his feet. “Señorita Bonner,” he said, shaking her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Señor Pastrana.”

With his tall, dark, Aragonian looks, she could easily imagine that he’d just stepped out of a painting done by one of the Spanish masters. In his black shirt and trousers, he took her breath. Yet behind his clipped tone, she still sensed his displeasure.

Perhaps being in the hotel business had caused him to develop an aversion toward Americans. Whatever his problem, she hoped his work wouldn’t keep him here long.

Miguel patted the chair next to him. “Sit down and eat, Ally. I’ve told Desidiero you’re an excellent climber and that you’re keen to try ice climbing on the waterfalls while you’re here. He has agreed to be your guide.”

She moaned, hoping no one heard her.

Her host smiled. “Naturally I couldn’t let you go with just any climber, no matter how good they think they are. Since Desidiero is the expert and is willing to take you, I’ll leave you two to talk. Come on, children. I have work to do. Let’s go find your mamacita.”

Now she understood the resentful vibes coming from the proud Spaniard seated across from her—he thought he’d been cornered into playing babysitter. “I know Miguel’s intentions were the best, but I’m not his responsibility and I’ll hire my own guide. I’m sorry he approached you, señor.”

He gave an elegant shrug of his broad shoulders. “He knew I came here to do some ice climbing. He cares about you, it’s important to him that I go with you.”

“But as he said, I’ve never climbed on ice. I don’t want to hold you back.”

He pursed his lips. “At least that’s honest,” he muttered. “Your inexperience won’t be a problem if you can follow directions. Today is the only time I have. Are you prepared to leave now?”

She’d planned to go skiing today, but this kind of opportunity was exactly what she’d wanted to do on this trip. She just hadn’t expected do it with this throwback to the time of conquistadores who had no desire to be with her.

“Yes,” she said spiritedly. Why not today, now? She’d come to Spain to defy the odds and sensed he presented as much of a challenge as the mountains themselves.

He was surprised by her answer. No doubt he’d counted on her saying no, that she couldn’t get ready that soon. Now he’d have to follow through on this favor to Miguel. “In that case, I’ll take you up for a few hours and give you your first lesson. Do you think you can last that long?”

“Absolutely. It’s very kind of you to take me.” But it was hard getting those words out when it was clear by his cold tone and stiff body how he really felt. His friendship with Miguel must have meant a lot to him.

“You’d be wise to finish all your breakfast.”

So he thought she couldn’t keep up with him? She’d be climbing circles around him before the day was out. “I promise not to fall behind.”

“Bien.” He sounded as if he were already bored with their conversation. “I’ll meet you in the foyer in half an hour.”

Ally checked her watch. “I’ll be waiting. Thank you, señor,” she said but he’d already started walking away.

A strange quiver ran through her body as she watched him stride off, making her think of a dark prince before he disappeared.

She ate her food quickly and then hurried back to her room to get ready, hardly able to believe this was really happening.

After her mastectomy, she’d undergone a lot of physical therapy and eventually worked up a routine of squats, dead lifts, overhead presses, pull-ups, step-ups and dips. Before she left for Spain, her doctor told her she was in excellent cardiovascular condition and saw no reason why she couldn’t do any kind of climbing she liked.

Though this would be a new experience for her, she’d been a climber for years and was determined that the inscrutable Spaniard would eat crow when he realized his low opinion of her was unfounded. She was going to prove herself today or die trying. Better that than to remain home in Afton listening to those inner voices whispering what if you don’t stay in remission?

Ally wasn’t in the foyer one minute before Señor Pastrana came walking through the double doors in his climbing gear. His striking looks caused every female guest coming and going from the posada to stare. He stopped when he saw she’d beaten him there. Without saying anything, his eyes scrutinized her, taking a mental inventory of what she was wearing, as any expert guide would do.

He was the kind of man who had to shave every day, but he hadn’t done it this morning. Was she mistaken, or did he seem paler than he had earlier, even with the shadow of his beard … or maybe because of it?

Why she cared or paid that much attention was beyond her. It had to be the dimmer light here in the foyer, which retained all the elements of the former cloister.

Sensing his displeasure again she asked, “Have I forgotten something?”

His gaze grew shuttered. “Not that I can see,” he muttered in a gravelly voice. “Shall we go?” He opened the door.

She nodded and walked out into the sunshine, aware of his eyes on her body. For no reason she could readily identify, Ally trembled. That had never happened to her before, not even with her fiancé. The blond, fun-loving Rex was so different from Desidiero Pastrana the two men might as well have been born on separate planets.

An elegant, black, four-wheel-drive truck stood outside the Posada d’Ara with the motor running. Her guide opened the passenger door for Ally to get in. Their arms brushed as she climbed inside.

The slight contact sent a dart of awareness through her, shocking her. For so long she’d been dead inside. There’d been a couple of men since Rex who’d tried to get close to her, but she couldn’t give them what they wanted. Getting involved with someone inevitably led to physical intimacy, and she wasn’t ready to suffer the rejection after he saw her scars.

So it was confusing and scary that her senses would suddenly be stirred by this dark, brooding force of nature from the other side of the world … who wanted to be anywhere else except with her.

CHAPTER THREE

DES didn’t speak as he drove several kilometers away from the ski area and began climbing the mountain road, making new tracks in the snow. He’d driven up here in a foul mood last night, but it was nothing compared to his state of mind right now.

Not only hadn’t he been able to stomach food this morning, but he was also now committed to coaching an inexperienced climber—just like his former fiancée. It had taken a lawsuit for him to see through to her mercenary soul, but he knew better than to trust so easily now.

Señorita Bonner might have charmed Miguel’s family, but Des had no illusions about her or any woman. Never again.

As he drove, he noticed Allison taking in the scenery. A true nature lover would find nothing more breathtaking than the beauty of the snow-covered peaks towering above them. They’d left the village behind and were alone on the road. Des shifted gears and they arrived at the road’s summit. He rounded a corner where everything opened up.

“Oh!” she cried out.

They’d come to the massive amphitheater of frozen waterfalls falling from great heights for which Puerto d’Ara was renowned. By the awe on her face he could see she was dazzled by the sight. The sun glinted off the ice as it cascaded over the boulders, giving the illusion of bride’s lace.

“I’ve never seen anything so spectacular in my life!”

Her reaction sounded genuine enough, but he hardened his resolve to remain unmoved by her.

“I’ll grant you this is a unique place.”

She flashed him an enraptured smile. “Thank you for bringing me here. I can’t wait to try climbing one of these ice cascades!”

He studied her animated features with a dubious glance. “The treacherous surface of a waterfall is slick and textured. Have you considered the danger?”

“Of course I have. Let’s see … I could fall in an icy crevasse, or get frostbite, or an avalanche could come out of nowhere. But it’s the risk of the unknown that fuels my need to push the envelope. You of all people should understand what I’m talking about.”

Des made a sound in his throat but didn’t respond. He got out of the car and opened up the back to retrieve their gear. “We’ll climb a little on that cascade to the left of us where the sun won’t be shining directly in our eyes. The lower portion isn’t too steep.” He handed her a helmet. “This is Inez’s. Try it on for size.”

She settled it on her head. “It fits perfectly.”

“Bien.” He handed her some crampons and she put them on. Within minutes they were outfitted and ready.

“I’ll put my helmet on once we start climbing.” He was still feeling nauseous, and the thought of putting on the confining helmet made his stomach churn. “Let’s drop the formality. I’ll call you Ally.” He picked up the axes and ropes and started toward the ice. “Follow me along this flat portion for practice. I’ll stop when we reach the place where you’ll need to start using your ice tool. If you feel nervous, let me know.”

“I promise.”

“Then let’s go.”

As they made their way across the frozen waterfall, Des looked over his shoulder several times to make certain she was all right. She’d gotten the hang of it in minutes. “I’m impressed how well you’re handling yourself on the ice.” It was only the truth.

She half laughed. “We’ll see how long it lasts.”

They soon reached the area where the ice started to angle upward. Though it wasn’t steep, it made the going more precarious and he helped her into her harness. He also attached the rope and belay in case she fell. Her moves on the ice were instinctive, indicating she knew what she was doing.

By the time he’d shown her how to throw the ax and kick her foot so the front of the crampon dug into the ice, he was starting to admire how quickly she was catching on. He also had to admit she was in great shape.

“Now grip your tool while you push yourself up with your legs. Do it a couple of times to get the feel.” He gave her a few pointers as she tried the motion out. With each effort she made, he found himself impressed by her grit. “I think you’re ready to scale this a ways.”

She flashed him a nervous smile. “I’m going to give it all I’ve got.”

He stared at her for a minute, respecting her courage and spirit of adventure that called to something inside him. He’d been unfair to her. “Forgive me for being abrupt with you earlier, Ally. I’m afraid I haven’t been on my best behavior today.”

“Forget it. If our situations had been reversed and Miguel had roped me into helping you, I would probably have told him I had a headache and walked away.”

In spite of himself, he found Ally Bonner’s rare honesty appealing. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

She threw her ax and began to mount the ice in increments, making certain the point at the front of her crampon was embedded. With each try she gained another foot. So far so good—until he saw the ax fall out of her hand. She’d thrown it wrong.

“Uh-oh!” She had to grab the notch she’d made because the leashed tool was just out of reach.

“Hold on.” He gauged the distance between them and figured she was about eight to twelve feet above him. “I’ll get it for you so you can use it to come back down and take a rest. When you think you’re ready again, we’ll do a short climb together.”

“Okay.”

Her legs were set in the proper stance. She was doing everything right, but she was new to ice climbing and would need a short rest. It took a lot more energy than one would imagine, even for somebody in great shape. If she hadn’t done a lot of climbing back in Wyoming, she could never have accomplished as much as she had.

Des reached her in a few seconds and handed her the tool. “You’re doing fine.”

“Thanks.”

After she took it, he swung back to his foothold. As he started to climb down, he was suddenly seized by nausea and a blast of dizziness. His vision blurred and he lost his grip. Then everything went black.

“Des!” Ally cried out, watching in horror as his body suddenly slid down the ice and his head hit the hard surface—his bare head. He hadn’t stopped to put on his helmet. She moaned in anguish.

His body came to rest facedown at the bottom of the ice waterfall. It had all happened within seconds. “Des!” she cried out in panic. No answer. “Des?”

He was out cold, possibly injured. She had to help him. She pulled out her ax and found the former hole she’d made with it. Slowly she eased herself down in increments until she reached his body. She removed her harness so she wouldn’t be hampered and crouched beside him.

She was trained in first aid, and did a quick assessment.

His face had gone the color of ash but she found a pulse, though it was a slow one. He wasn’t bleeding and he didn’t seem to have a spinal injury, thank heaven.

Something must have happened to him after he’d handed her the tool. Something that had caused him to lose consciousness.

Oh, Des … I need to get you to a hospital, fast.

Just the day before Miguel had told her there was no cell phone service in this area to call for assistance. So she’d either have to leave him here and go for help, hoping hypothermia didn’t set in in the meantime, or drag him to the truck. She chose the latter.

After removing his crampons, she turned him over, grabbed hold of his harness and began pulling him toward the car. They were still on the ice, and she had to dig her crampons in with every step, slowing her progress and draining her strength.

Ally prayed every inch of the way over the flat cascade of ice. Several times she heard a moan from Des. Relieved for even that much response, she finally reached their vehicle. After removing her crampons and helmet, she went through several of his pockets and found the keys.

Once she’d opened the rear door, she grabbed him in a fireman’s lift the way she’d been trained in the Tetons and managed to get him inside. He had to weigh at least two hundred pounds of hard muscle, but she couldn’t stop to rest. Frantic to reach help, she raced around and got behind the wheel of the truck. Thank heaven it was only a few kilometers to the village.

All the while her mind was replaying the horrific moment in the raft with Rex when they’d hit the rapids. He hadn’t been wearing a helmet, either. She’d told him to put it on after they’d put the boat in the water. But like Des, he’d said he would get it in a minute but had left the shore without it. They’d gone into the rapids at the wrong angle and the boat had flipped. Rex had been thrown from the boat and his head had hit a boulder. He never regained consciousness.

This was like déjà vu. Des couldn’t die, too! She wouldn’t let him.

CHAPTER FOUR

“DES? Can you hear me?”

That voice crying softly to him … A woman’s voice … An American, he realized, since every once in a while he could hear her speaking English to him. Who in the hell was she?