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Hallstatt, Austria, was normally a picturesque tourist delight, but all he'd wanted to do was pass through until the ancient two-door Skoda started shuddering, telling him that, one way or another, he wasn't making it to Linz anytime soon. A lit sign that read "Pension" on the side of a nearby building glowed through the snow, and he trudged his way through it, seemingly the only person in town.

At least the only one dumb enough to be out in the storm.

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It had been a long time since he'd shared a meal with such an enchanting woman, and he wondered if the fact that they couldn't really talk to each other made it seem more intimate.He stood and picked up his plate and empty beer glass.Hannah was just finishing wiping down the table, and Clark strutted up to her, bowed slightly, held out his hand and said, "Waltz?" Her face clouded, but she seemed to have an, "ah, fuck it" moment, set down the rag she'd been using and took his hand.She looked up at him, flashed a crooked smile, then looked down and took another bite.

He felt the fire of her touch even through his pants leg.

It was not high tourist season, so he hoped his chances at a room were better than his chances at getting the Skoda to go any farther.

He pushed the ornate wooden door and was instantly enveloped by the heat coming from a fireplace inside the lobby.

Stone fireplace, neatly laid tables with red and white checkered tablecloths, curtains at each window with candles on all the tables and decor that was quintessential Alpine charm. " he asked, taking in the woman's beautiful face — blue eyes framed by deep dark chocolate-colored hair and skin that seemed to glow from within — even as the corners other mouth turned to a frown. "Ah..." Clark didn't speak German beyond a few travelers' words, and he search for a second before remembering. She shook her head and made a show of moving one hand over the other that he took to mean payment was on checkout. The apron she wore obscured any look at her figure, but then she took the key and motioned for him to follow, turning around and giving him a view of her from the rear. It was a booth with well-worn wooden seats, and she slid in opposite him. "Hannah," she said, returning the smile with a goofy grin he read as her wondering why she was going along with it. He gave a gentle squeeze and shook it, feeling the smoothness of her skin and the electric tingle that came with it.

His eyes found the front desk as footsteps descended from the stairs. She wore tight black jeans that perfectly accentuated her butt as she took the first stair, and on top of that was a red T-shirt that hugged her slim figure. She giggled and nodded once, then waved for him to follow her. "Well, prost," he said, holding the beer up and clinking glasses with her before taking a sip, feeling the refreshing brew slide down his throat.

They ate the rest of their meals, and even though there was no conversation beyond a few grunts of satisfaction and facial expressions — which routinely had them both laughing — the companionship wasn't lacking.