Marry Ex's Billionaire Uncle After Divorce (Aurora and Jasper) novel Chapter 268

Chapter 233: Snow and Silence

(Aurora’s POV)

“This one,” I said.

He glanced over. Something in his expression shifted – quiet, pleased.

“Good choice.”

+25 Points

The passports and visas were processed within a single day. I didn’t even ask how. I just packed a bag and got on a plane.

I slept for most of the flight. When I opened my eyes, the window was full of white – jagged peaks and heavy snowfall and the pale grey light of the Alps in winter.

The resort was private. A friend’s property, Phineas said, though he didn’t elaborate on which friend or how he’d arranged it. The slopes were almost completely empty. Just snow and silence and the occasional creak of wind against the pine trees.

“Do you know how to ski?” he asked.

He was already in his gear. Black jacket, black pants, goggles pushed up on his helmet.

“Not really,” I said. “Do you?”

He didn’t answer. He just snapped his boots into the bindings, pushed off with his poles, and dropped over the ridge.

I watched him go.

–

He hit the steep section and didn’t slow down. He built speed instead, crouching low, then launched off a natural lip in the snow. He went airborne – body tilted back, one hand dragging through the powder – and landed clean, sending a wall of white spraying out to either side.

My mouth was open.

He curved to a stop in front of me, snow settling around his boots.

“That’s basic level,” he said, completely straight-faced.

I burst out laughing and started clapping. I couldn’t help it.

He looked insufferably pleased with himself.

“Your turn,” he said.

They dressed me in everything. Helmet, knee pads, padded shorts, and a thick pink jacket that added about four inches to my silhouette in every direction. I looked like a marshmallow. A very pink, very round marshmallow.

Chapter 233 Snow and Silence

Phineas took my hand.

“Bend your knees,” he said. “Don’t look at your feet. Look where you want to go.”

“I want to go back inside.”

“Aurora.”

“Fine.”

425 Points

He was patient. Genuinely patient – not the kind that was waiting to be done with it, but the kind that actually meant it. He kept hold of my hand and walked me through the basics, his voice steady and unhurried.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “I’m not going to let you fall.”

After about thirty minutes, something clicked. I found the balance point, got my weight right, and managed a slow glide down a gentle slope without grabbing his arm.

I was so focused on staying upright that I didn’t notice I’d relaxed.

Then something hit me lightly between the shoulder blades.

A push. Small, deliberate.

“Phineas-”

The slope tilted. My skis accelerated. The wind picked up and I was moving too fast and the marker poles at the bottom were getting very large very quickly and I screamed.

I actually screamed.

And then there were arms around me – solid, certain, catching me from the front. We spun once in

the snow and stopped.

He was laughing. Not out loud, but I could feel it in his chest.

“I told you I’d catch you,” he said, close to my ear.

I wanted to be furious. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, and my legs were shaking, and he had absolutely done that on purpose.

But somewhere underneath the outrage there was something else – a brightness, a rush – and I couldn’t entirely blame him for it.

“You’re terrible,” I said.

“You’re fine.”

I was.

We skied for the rest of the day. By the end of it I could manage the beginner slope at a slow,

Snow and Silence

+25 Points

controlled pace, which felt like a genuine achievement. My legs, however, had completely given up.

Back at the hotel, I showered, pulled on a robe, and folded myself onto the couch. Every muscle below my waist was staging a protest.

“I’ll do a massage,” Phineas said. “Otherwise you won’t be able to move tomorrow.”

I looked at him sideways.

“A real one,” he said, his expression perfectly neutral.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Go lie down.”

He went to shower. I moved to the bed, lay face down, and told myself I was too tired for anything to happen.

He came out with a towel around his waist and nothing else. The lamplight was not doing me any favors in terms of maintaining composure.

He sat across my lower back and started on my shoulders. His hands were firm and precise, finding the knots and working them loose, and despite my best intentions I felt myself going completely slack within about four minutes.

“Harder,” I said, muffled against the pillow.

“Mm.”

His hands moved lower. Past my waist. Down.

“Stop-”

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