Bills tried to disguise his smile of satisfaction by rubbing his leather clad hands against his modest beard. It had all been so perfect. They had only left London a couple of days ago but the journey to their favourite little boutique hotel in Beaune had been without delay and it just made the sensational food and the red Burgundy even yummier. The following day had been just as hassle free and the all wheel drive and V6 engine of the Quattroporte had pulled them upwards effortlessly towards their Alpine goal.
They had enjoyed a naughty lie in but soon dressed warmly and headed out to watch the crowds in St Moritz slowly take their positions beside the frozen lake in a spectacular explosion of fur, jewellery and plastic surgery. They had joked together about how naked they felt in the absence of the toy dog accessory that everybody else appeared to carry. She squeezed his hand hard when her giggling became too uncontrollable. He had looked deep into the azure eyes of his beloved and thought again what a lucky fellow he was.
Their brunch was fuelled by Croque Monsieur, Krug and people watching so it was with a merry skip that she had taken a few Francs to the bookmakers before the first race. He was not a betting man but appreciated the thrill she got from a rare flutter. He had already commissioned Lucinda Roper to paint one of her fabulous oils of the famous White Turf races that should be awaiting them on their return to Blighty. They would soon be watching a blur of equine power and algorithm crystals floating behind them. It immediately reminded him of the smart navy blue GUY&MAX ring box that was snuggled in his overcoat pocket. Was he really going to wait a couple of days as St Valentine dictated to ask the question or bask in this sunlit perfection today? He saw her walking towards him and his hand automatically moved inside his coat. Carpe diem.