by Kelly Alexis
"What the hell is beading?" he asked.
"You know, beads, like making a necklace or an anklet."
He looked at me and grimaced.
I laughed. "I wouldn't do that to you. How about a line-dancing class?"
"I don't have my cowboy boots."
I looked at him curiously. "You have cowboy boots?"
"Sure. I even go to rodeos." He chuckled. "You look surprised."
"I guess I thought you were more like Pierce Brosnan, you know, all debonair and cool. Picturing you in boots and a cowboy hat is, well, damn hot."
"Too bad it's winter, or we could go horseback riding. Do you like horses?"
"Love 'em. I used to go to riding camps in the summer, but I never actually had my own horse."
He flipped through several pages and pointed to a photo of a big sleigh with two huge black Percherons hitched to it. "How about a sleigh ride? Fresh air, horses, stars. Sounds interesting."
Snuggling with Frisco under a blanket while enjoying the spectacular scenery sounded good to me. "Where does it go?"
"It says here that it takes about four hours, and they go to an old log cabin overlooking Aspen. They provide a gourmet barbecue dinner and sing around the campfire."
"I'm not sure I brought enough warm clothes."
"They have plenty of wool blankets, and if we need boots or warmer clothes, the—"
"I know, room service has some," I interrupted with a grin. It had been repeated so often, it was stuck in my head like a TV jingle.
"Right."
"Would we be alone?"
"Probably not. I'd guess three or four other couples."
"Couples?"
"Why does that sound funny? We're a couple."
I liked being a couple with him. And tonight, I could live that fantasy for a while longer. "Let's do it," I told him enthusiastically.
"I'll call and get reservations." He slid off the bed and went to the phone on my nightstand. He punched in the number one and waited. "Nicole, hi, it's Frisco. Really well, thank you. Would there be any openings on the sleigh ride this evening? Yes, two, Miss Ingalls and myself. Great. What time should we be downstairs? Sounds good. Oh, and could we get some warm clothes sent up to our rooms? You know our sizes. Thanks." He turned to me. "Four o'clock behind the hotel."
I looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was almost two. "Do you think we could get a snack before we leave?"
Frisco wiggled his eyebrows lecherously.
"I meant food. We've been working off the calories lately."
"They have great hamburgers."
"That sounds good."
Frisco picked up the phone again and dialed the restaurant. While he was placing our order, I returned to the bathroom and dried my hair. I didn't usually leave it down. Kevin liked it up in a twist or pulled back in a bun. To mark my new freedom, I left my hair long and loose, falling well past my shoulders. A swipe of mascara on my lashes and a soft rose lipstick made me look less like I had just rolled out of bed.
There was a knock at the bathroom door, and I opened it to find Frisco, dressed in his tux from last night.
"Hmm, you look beautiful."
"Miss me?" I teased.
"Of course." He leaned down and gave me a kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes. Reluctantly, he pulled away. He combed his fingers through my hair and let it trickle back into place. "I love your hair like this. You should wear it like this all the time."
"Thanks," I said, almost shyly. It wasn't the first compliment he had given me, but I knew this one was sincere. Plus, he'd used the word "love," and the sound of it rang in my ears.
He shook his head as if to remind himself of his original purpose. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to run back to my room." He rubbed the dark stubble on his chin and jaw, making a raspy sound. "I need to change clothes and clean up a little. I should be back before the burgers arrive."
"I'll be ready by then," I told him.
He gave me another juicy kiss, and I walked him to the door. It felt like a wife kissing her husband good-bye as he went off to work. Before I closed the door, the brass plaque caught my eye, and I sighed. Silly girl, I reprimanded myself. You're staying in the Fantasy Suite. None of this is real. You're not a wife or even a girlfriend. Okay, I'd known that all along, but somehow, when I was snuggled against Frisco's warm body or caught in the rapture of his lovemaking, I could forget reality. That had to be enough. It would end soon enough, but for now, I was going to stay in the fantasy.
I glanced down the hallway and saw the elevator doors open and Frisco step inside. He gave me a little wave and a smile…and was gone.
Chapter 8
On the other side of the wall of glass in the great room, the sound of sleigh bells and the rhythmic clopping of horse hooves could be heard.
"Sounds like our ride is here," Frisco said. He took my hand, and we joined two other couples leaving the hotel and heading toward the waiting sleigh.
It was as if the photo had come to life. The large red sleigh looked like the beautifully ornate vehicles on Christmas cards and old movies. The elegantly curved runners were bright brass, and gold pinstripes decorated the body. The shiny jet-black horses were giants, their long manes and tails braided with red, green, and gold ribbons. One of them shook his head, creating a storm of jingles from the bells on his white leather harness. They exhaled little clouds of mist out of their nostrils in the cold mountain air, making them look like mythical creatures. I just had to touch them, and I took one of my mittens off so I could stroke that velvet-soft skin.
Heavy muscle in the thick arched neck quivered under my hand. "You're so beautiful," I murmured in my best horse-whisperer voice. He turned his big head and blew hot air in my ear.
"Hey, she's mine," Frisco protested playfully. He recaptured my hand and pulled me toward the sleigh. "If size matters, I can't compete."
"That's the first time I've heard any hint of insecurity from you," I commented as I put my glove back on. I meant it to be a tease, but his expression sobered.
"Everyone has insecurities."
I leaned closer and gave him a little hip bump. "You're plenty big for me."
I could feel him relax, and the smile returned to his handsome face. He thumped the pom-pom on top of my stocking cap, sending it bouncing on top of my head. "Damn right, darlin'. And don't you forget it."
I never will, I thought, but aloud I said, "Maybe room service can send up a tape measure so I can check out your assets scientifically."
He laughed, and we stopped next to the metal step that had been folded down so we could get into the sleigh.
"Hello, folks, my name is Pete, and I'm your driver today." A wiry man, probably in his sixties, stood next to the opening. He was wearing black pants and a puffy red parka, but instead of a stocking cap, he had a well-worn cowboy hat on his head. I suspected he had been a cowboy in another life and was now enjoying semiretirement in comfort at Breathless. "We'll be going to Highland Manor, which is on top of that mountain right there." He pointed toward a tree-covered peak in the distance. "If you'll step inside and get settled, we'll head out. I'll handle the introductions in a minute. I want to be there in time for you to see the sunset at eighty-three hundred feet." He extended his hand to me.
I took it and used it to steady myself as I put one foot on the step. Frisco assisted by pushing respectfully up on my ass. Everyone laughed, and Frisco followed me into the sleigh. We picked the back seat of the four passenger benches and sat down on the velvet quilted seat. A pile of fake-fur blankets was folded on one end of each seat.
Sure enough, Nicole had come through with two sets of warm clothes for us. The sweater I was wearing was my own, but the black ski pants, stocking cap, and a long down-filled parka with a fake-fur-trimmed hood had been delivered by room service. Frisco was dressed similarly, and we both had on tall fleece-lined leather boots with rubber soles. Also included were puffy mittens, which Frisco explained were warmer tha
n gloves because they kept our fingers together to generate more heat.
When the other two couples were settled, Pete folded the step up and latched it so that it formed a door. He climbed up, using the runner for a step, onto the small driver's seat, then turned partway around. "Okay. In the first seat, we have Penny and Carl, Darla and Justin in the second seat, and Samantha and Frisco in the back." He gave us a wink. "And we all know why they chose that seat. Just a word of caution—frostbite." Again, everyone laughed. The joke needed no explanation.
I wondered how many of these couples had met at Breathless for the first time or if some had come for an exclusive vacation. There was a lot of handholding and meaningful looks to indicate that they were all in various stages of attachment that may or may not be love. Could one of the men be a gigolo like Frisco? I studied each one and decided it would be impossible to tell. Which meant none of the other couples would know our secret, either. That made me feel a lot more comfortable.
It wasn't that I was ashamed of what I was doing. It was just that it was so intimate and special that I didn't want to share it with anyone else. Frisco unfolded our blankets and placed them over our laps, then reached across me and tucked it under my ass and thigh. He gave me a quick kiss and flipped my hood up before doing the same to his.
"Our horsepower today is supplied by Hall and Oats. Yes, they're cousins, but they can't carry a tune in a bucket." Pete cackled at his pun. "Sit back and enjoy the scenery. We'll be at Highland Manor in about forty-five minutes. Ready?"
Applause was muffled by gloves, and "Ready" was yelled in unison. Inside the resort's lounge, guests could be seen waving good-bye through the large windows. We all waved back as we enthusiastically set off on our adventure.
"This will be fun," I told Frisco as I snuggled into the curve of his arm.
The sleigh jerked forward as Hall and Oats leaned into their harnesses. The runners seemed to find every rock, root, and rut in the earth as the sleigh moved forward and upward.
"It will be," he promised as he reached over with his free hand and buried it in my crotch. Even through the layers of clothing, my clit responded.
"Here?"
"Why not? Have you ever had an orgasm in a sleigh?" he whispered in my ear.
"No, have you?"
"Actually, no. This would be a first for me."
I was tempted to risk frostbite just to be his first for at least one event, but he removed his hand.
"Maybe on the trip home, when it's darker," he suggested.
I fluttered my eyelashes at him. "Maybe. We'll see how the evening goes."
"Ah, playing hard to get?" he teased.
"No, just anxious to keep my female parts from getting frozen and falling off."
"Trust me. I'll keep them warm."
"I'm sure you would."
As the sleigh reached the deeper snow, the ride smoothed out and sped up. The temperature was in the twenties when we left and would probably drop into the teens after the sun set. The breeze against my cheeks was biting, and I turned my face toward Frisco. He bent down and rubbed his nose against mine. The fur of our hoods meshed, forming a warm cocoon.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked, his breath heating my cold cheeks.
"I look like the Pillsbury Dough Girl," I scoffed. "I could weigh two hundred pounds, and you wouldn't be able to tell."
His lips touched mine with delicious sweetness. "I know exactly what's under all those clothes. And the memory of your gorgeous body is making me horny as hell."
I moved my hand to his groin and felt that his cock was, indeed, as hard as a rock. "Oh God, now you've turned me on, too. But it would take me ten minutes to take off enough clothes."
"We still have about thirty minutes," he reminded me.
But before we could actually begin the awkward process of making an opening in our clothing, Pete pulled the sleigh to a stop.
We were on top of a ridge with an open view of the mountains and valleys stretched out for miles. The sun was low in the sky, its bright rays making the snow sparkle like diamonds and splashing a brilliant orange on the bottoms of the clouds.
"Now, ain't that a purty sight!" Pete exclaimed. "I see it almost every day, and I never get tired of it."
Frisco and I broke out of our cocoon and looked. It was truly beautiful. The sun was sinking fast, and every inch it dropped painted the sky with even more vivid colors. Far down below us in the valley, the lights in the city of Aspen started turning on, twinkling like fallen stars.
Pete clicked his tongue and popped the reins, and the Percherons started forward again.
Frisco and I snuggled together and resumed our heated kissing with occasional peeks around the fake fur to catch glimpses of the glorious sunset.
Pete had timed it just right. The sky was still bathed in orange as we pulled up to a building constructed of stone and logs. It looked as if it was an old miner's cabin that had been modernized, but of course, because it was a Breathless property, it had probably been built to look like that. A slice of log had the name Highland Manor burned into the wood and hung over the front door. A covered porch ran around two sides, and an eight-person Sno-Cat was parked in the back.
"We're here," Pete announced as the sleigh pulled to a stop. "It might be a little slippery, so let me help you step down." He unlatched the door and pulled down the step.
One by one, we climbed down from the sleigh and headed toward the building. The temperature had plummeted with the setting of the sun, and my nose and cheeks burned from the cold. As soon as I stepped inside, I was enveloped in the warmth of a big roaring fire. The entire lower floor was one big room with doors leading to a kitchen and two restrooms. There was a staircase at the end that led up to a second floor with an open balcony that made a complete circle and had six doors, probably leading to bedrooms.
Next to the fireplace there was a raised area where a young man sat alone, playing an acoustic guitar and singing.
We all struggled to get out of our coats, ski pants, and boots and hung them on a row of hooks near the door. Now dressed in just stretch pants, an oversized sweater, and socks, I rubbed my hands together to warm them.
"Wow!" Frisco exclaimed. "That guy's got a great voice."
I looked at the singer closely. "I recognize him. Wasn't he a winner on one of those singing shows?"
"I think you're right. I wonder what he's doing out here?"
Pete overheard our conversation and chuckled. "Blake's a fan of the show, and nobody says no to Blake."
I was beginning to believe Blake was some sort of magician—or eccentric millionaire. All of his employees were amazing, talented people who could have found jobs anywhere. The fact that they chose this place spoke volumes about his management skills.
I looked over at Frisco, who was chatting with Pete, and wondered how long he had been working at Breathless. Indirectly, that would answer the question of how many guests he had pleasured and that was definitely not something I wanted to think about. I had learned not to ask any question I didn't want to hear the answer to, especially from him.
As if he felt my gaze on him, Frisco turned and flashed that sexy smile that always made my heart do a little dance. God, we had just one more day together, and then I would never see him again. I would be back to my pathetic life in Denver, and he would move on to his next client.
He must have sensed my momentary melancholy, because he left Pete and came over to me. His big hand cupped my cheek, and he gave me a long, possessive kiss. "What's wrong, darlin'?"
"Nothing." My lids quickly dropped to hide all the emotions I knew would be visible in my eyes. "I think I'm just a little tired."
"Gee, I wonder why," he teased. He waited until I looked up at him, which I immediately knew was a mistake. "Sami, don't be down. Your divorce wasn't your fault."
He had wrongly taken my sadness as being about the end of my marriage, and I didn't correct him. The last thing I wanted to do was to be a Debbie Do
wner for the last few hours we were together. It was better to have him think it had nothing to do with him.
"I'll be fine. I know that. I'm actually looking forward to living out of Kevin's shadow."
"Good for you." For just a second, there was an odd, wistful look in his eyes.
Or had I imagined it? Already, his crystal-blue eyes had changed back to warm and friendly.
"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.
"Hot chocolate sounds good."
"With a splash of Irish cream?"
"Sounds better," I agreed. I watched him walk across to the small bar in the corner. I sucked in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air and resolved to enjoy every minute I had left with him.
He returned with the hot chocolates, and we barely had time to sip them before a chef dressed like a cowboy on a cattle drive came out of the kitchen and announced, "Come and get it while it's hot."
Frisco took my free hand and led the way to the large round table next to the kitchen.
An attractive young lady stepped out from behind the bar and announced, "Welcome, everyone. Please choose any seat you like, and I'll take your drink orders in a moment. My name is Shanna, our cook is Clint, and our music tonight is provided by Wyatt West. He'll be joining you for dinner, but later, he loves taking your requests." The sound of her cowboy boots on the stone floor faded as we all sat down at the table.
Old-fashioned gas lanterns hung from the ceiling that was constructed of raw logs and beams. It was a beautiful room that was romantic and homey, and as soon as everyone was settled, the conversation flowed easily. Wyatt rested his guitar on a stand and came over to join us, sitting across from me.
Shanna returned with some warm biscuits, bowls of butter, and pitchers of honey. She took everyone's drink orders, then went back to the bar to fill them. Clint came out carrying two large platters with an assortment of appetizers, which he placed on the table.
"I'm cooking the steaks rare unless any of you tenderfoots like 'em tough," he told us, almost daring anyone to speak up. None of us dared. "Hey, I was just joshing ya," he added. "I'll cook 'em any way you like."