Fire and Ice [Après-Ski 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Zara Chase

  “Perhaps she did have a reason to snoop. You should have given her the chance to explain.”

  “Nah.” Jack sighed and stretched his arms above his head. “She’s only passing through, so what’s the point? I guess I’ll just find me a new sub and stick to what I know.”

  “Works for me. Less complications that way.”

  “I hear you.” Jack tossed back the rest of his drink and resisted the urge to refill his glass for a third time. He was damned if he’d suffered more pain just because Chelsea Hoxton wasn’t who she appeared to be. No one had died, for fuck’s sake. “You, me, and Tyrell need to stick together. Seems what the other guys here have found with their monogamous relationships ain’t for us.”

  Leo shuddered. “We’ve got commitment issues for reasons.”

  “Damned straight we have.” Jack stood. “Right, I’m turning in. No sense losing sleep over what can’t be fixed.”

  “I’m going downstairs,” Leo said, referring to the dungeon. “Stacey’s just gotten off work. She’ll be waiting to have her ass paddled.”

  “Work, work, work.”

  Stacy was one of Leo’s two subs. It seemed tonight she would be getting the boss’s full attention. More often than not, Leo took her and Paula together, giving them both multiple orgasms and a hell of a lot of pleasurable torture before he came himself. Master Doms themselves, the other residents of Hadleigh’s were in awe of Leo’s staying power and of the lengths his two ladies were prepared to go to in order to please him.

  “It’s a tough job,” Leo replied, grinning. “But someone’s gotta do it.”

  Jack went back up to his rooms, swearing when Chelsea’s light floral fragrance definitely hit his senses the moment he unlocked the door. Annoyed when a small part of him still wished she was there. Perhaps Leo had been right. There could conceivably be an explanation and he should have given her the opportunity to voice it.

  “Hell, get a grip!”

  How could he still want her after what she’d done? With that thought in mind, he conducted a methodical search of his rooms, wondering what she’d planted there. Something that would get him in trouble. If she was connected to Alison, it was bound to be trouble. It was the only way Alison knew how to operate. He’d thought he would be beyond her reach here in Nevella. Obviously not. Perhaps it was time to confront her once and for all and put all that revenge shit behind him.

  He found nothing but that didn’t mean there was nothing there, or that she hadn’t intended to leave a calling card. Perhaps Jack had woken before she got the chance. Call him paranoid, but he’d take Leo’s offer up and have the room professionally swept. No sense inviting trouble. Then, when he was thinking more coherently, he’d decide what to do about Alison. He’d been ducking the issue for too long. Enough was enough.

  Jack tumbled between sheets that still smelled of Chelsea and knew sleep would be a long time coming.

  * * * *

  Chelsea was furious with herself for blowing it with Jack. How could she have handled things so ineptly? She would never forget the cold, unforgiving look in his eye when he caught her with his gun. He had to know she’d been searching through his desk, which is how she’d come across it. What did that make her? She tried to tell herself she’d only been doing her job but that didn’t salve her guilty conscience or do anything to ease the ache that had taken up residence in her heart. Jack was glamorous, fascinating, sex on legs, and a very private person. She sensed that he didn’t often let strangers into his private domain and yet she’d blown that privilege at the first hurdle.

  It shouldn’t matter to her. Nothing mattered other than getting the job done. Whatever it took, she reminded herself. The reminder made her madder still with herself. She’d never slept with a man before just to help an enquiry along and she knew, deep down, that wasn’t why she’d fallen so willingly into bed with Jack. She’d done it because she simply couldn’t help herself. He was more tempting than he had any right to be and Chelsea was overdue for a little fun. Her backside tingled when she thought of all the things he’d introduced her to. How he’d even gotten her to consider anal sex.

  Well, she wouldn’t get to do it now, she thought glumly.

  A gun. Forcing her mind back to her reasons for being in Nevella, Chelsea ran up the stair to her room as she contemplated her discovery, desperate for the opportunity to lick her wounds in private. He had a gun. Guns were illegal in England but the rules were less stringent in Nevella. There were hunters here so lots of rifles. But a 22-caliber handgun? Why would he need one of those? There could be all sorts of reasons, but it was suspicious. Hold that thought. It was justification, of sorts, for her snooping.

  Chelsea threw off her clothes and lay naked on the top of her bed, aware that she’d never be able to sleep. She closed her eyes as she recalled the feel of Jack’s limber tongue, of his teeth nipping and teasing as he sucked an orgasm from her. Hell, she was hot again! Just thinking about the things he’d done to her—wonderful things she would never experience again—had her juices flowing. She wiped a finger through them as they trickled down her inner thighs and brought that finger to her mouth, sucking it deep. Jack had liked the way she tasted. Chelsea didn’t like anything about herself.

  She was a consummate professional, she reminded herself, abandoning her salacious reminiscences and deciding against masturbation. She had never had a problem keeping her private life separate from her work.

  Until now.

  Jack Gower had gotten to her in so many ways. He was an enigma and she found him fascinatingly compelling. It didn’t hurt that he was so easy on the eye, or that his sexual appetites were…how to put it? Kinky? Demanding? Exciting? All of the above. She felt turned on all over again, just by thinking about all the stuff they’d done together, even though she’d just made a conscious decision to quit thinking about them. The man had gotten her so steamed up that she no longer knew her own mind. Might as well continue torturing herself with recollections since those memories appeared to be stuck on a continuous loop inside her head.

  His unselfish determination to prove something to her about her own body’s needs had been a revelation. But she could not, would not, allow that to influence her thinking. There was something secretive about Jack, and something decidedly odd about Hadleigh’s. All those security measures were way over-the-top for a country where crime was virtually nonexistent.

  “I’m right about him,” she said aloud, if only to convince herself.

  She had no intention of giving up on him, even if he’d never trust her and probably never take her to bed again, either. She would think of something to tell him to justify her unjustifiable snooping, if only so she could get a better feel for the guy and decide whether he was working with the Dutchmen. Yeah, getting a feel for Jack would tick all her boxes. Damned shame she’d blown her chances.

  Her mobile rang. She grabbed it and answered the call straight away, her heart lifting. It was gone two in the morning. Only one person would be calling her now. Perhaps he’d decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “Jack?”

  “Sorry, darling.”

  “Rob.” Chelsea’s disappointment was intense. Her former boss and wannabe lover was the last person she wanted to speak with right then. “What are you doing calling in the middle of the night?”

  “Who’s Jack?”

  “No one.”

  “No one who rings you in the wee small hours and you sound a little too anxious to speak with. That sort of no one?”

  “What do you want, Rob?”

  “I’ve been calling you all night. I was worried when I didn’t get an answer.”

  “I was busy.”

  “With Jack?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

  “Take it any way you like. I’m too tired to bandy words with you so I ask again, what do you want that can’t wait until a civilized hour?”

  “I need a progress report?
”

  “On my wild-goose chase that’s taking up valuable company time.” Chelsea’s breath came out in an angry hiss. “That’s how you described this aspect of the investigation, if memory serves.”

  “I might have spoken out of turn,” Rob replied with transparent reluctance.

  Chelsea was now wide awake. Rob never admitted to getting it wrong. He was the ultimate company man who thrived upon playing both sides against the middle and always managing to come out on the winning side—or appearing to.

  “So, are you implying that my emotionally-charged judgment that had no basis in fact might actually be on the money?” Chelsea had no intention of making this easy for him, aware that he was getting the brunt of her anger for blowing it with Jack. He deserved nothing less. “Female histrionics were, I seem to recall, the words you used when I suggested following up this particular lead.”

  “You have to admit that it looked unlikely.”

  “Do I?” Chelsea grinned. If it weren’t for the incident with Jack, she’d be enjoying her momentary revenge against a man who had done everything in his power to derail her career since she’d refused to hop into bed with him. “I take it that’s no longer the case.”

  “We’ve cleared two of the other three more likely explanations.”

  Chelsea was euphoric and punched the air. “I knew it! I knew I was right about this. I had a feeling, or should I say, an emotional feminine intuition.”

  “What have you got for me?”

  “Nothing concrete as yet.” Chelsea was playing this one close to her chest. “If Rob thought she was on the brink of cracking the case, he’d come blundering in himself, just so he got the glory. No way would she let that happen.”

  “Come on, Chelsea. I need to know.”

  “That’s not how I work and you know it.”

  “I gave you this investigation—”

  “Because you thought it would lead nowhere. You were humoring me. I don’t work for you anymore, Rob. I’m freelance, remember? And I can walk away from this assignment any time I feel like it.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Try me.”

  “Now you’re being unprofessional.”

  Chelsea bridled. “Pots and kettles spring to mind.”

  “My letting you go wasn’t personal, you know that.”

  “You know what, Rob, much as this might damage your precious ego, I don’t give a shit. In fact, you did me a favor.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty, darling.”

  Oh, for goodness sake! “I’ll share with you when I have something worth sharing. In the meantime, butt out and let me do my job.”

  “You’ve got two days, then I’m sending the big boys in.”

  “You can’t do that. I’m…Shit!”

  She was talking to thin air. He’d hung up on her. Chelsea threw her phone onto the bed. It bounced off and hit the floor. She retrieved it and put it on the nightstand, wondering what she was supposed to do now.

  There was only one thing she could do. This commission was hers. She needed the cash and no way would she allow that scumbag Rob to ride in and grab all the glory after she’d taken all the chances. He got paid, no matter what. She only got to eat if she produced results. She’d done the legwork, admittedly at his behest, but only because he thought she’d gotten it wrong and would be chasing shadows. She managed a brief chuckle when she thought how much it must have cost Rob to admit she’d been right.

  Chelsea sobered as she considered the alternatives. She had two days to solve this thing and she couldn’t do it alone. Either Jack was a part of it, or he was the only person who could help her. Well, him and Leo. Leo Hadleigh seemed to have contacts everywhere it mattered in Nevella. She couldn’t walk down the street without seeing his name plastered on various businesses or hearing him mentioned by adoring females in reverential tones.

  Who did she put her faith in—Rob or Jack? Hell, no contest! Her lateral thinking had, it seemed, despite Rob’s openly scathing attitude, pointed her in the right direction. Her instincts had led her to Jack and she’d had a hard time trying to convince herself he was one of the bad guys. It was time to put her money where her mouth was.

  She owed him an explanation and he deserved to know the truth.

  Chapter Six

  Jack had been short-tempered with everyone all day, and it was all Chelsea’s fault. Knowing she was bad news wasn’t the same as putting her out of his head, which bugged the hell out of him. He’d never had that problem before. Fortunately his services had been in demand, the good weather increasing the appeal of heliskiing and Ward had been kept busy vetting the number of daredevils who wanted to give it a go.

  Even so, it hadn’t escaped Jack’s memory that he’d offered Chelsea an aerial tour of Nevella that afternoon. He wondered if she’d have the gall to turn up and what he’d do about it if she did. Part of him wanted to forget what she’d done, wipe the slate clean, and have mindless sex with her for the rest of her stay. That’s what he usually did with any tourist who took his fancy and who was willing to play with him. The problem was, he didn’t let those tourists get inside his private space. Having done so with Chelsea, he couldn’t pretend she hadn’t violated his trust.

  “Chelsea Hoxton has called three times,” Judy told Jack when he returned to the office after his final run of the day. “Needs you to call her urgently.” Judy chuckled. “Think you made an impression there, Jack. Must be your lucky day.”

  You have no idea. “Thanks, Judy. You can get off now. I’ll finish up here.”

  “Okay, Jack, have a good evening.” She grinned over her shoulder. “Chelsea’s classy. I like her.”

  “You know me, Judy.” He winked at his motherly assistant. “I’m all business.”

  Judy shook her head and chuckled. “Now I’ve heard it all.”

  Jack filled in his log, checked that all the rest of the paperwork was up to date and shut up shop for the day. He headed back to Hadleigh’s, having decided to check out the single subs hanging out in the dungeon that night. It was time to put Chelsea Hoxton out of his mind by whipping the ass of some willing little chick who knew the score and had no expectations other than getting laid.

  Jack let himself in through the side door that led directly to their private lounge. And stopped dead in his tracks.

  “What the fuck…”

  “Oh, there you are, Jack.” Leo sent him a warning look, preventing the words that sprang to mind at the sight of Chelsea sitting there like she belonged spilling from his lips. And yet, goddamn it, part of him was glad to see her. The part that had done the thinking for him last night. The part that never seemed to know when to mind its own damned business. “Chelsea has something urgent to tell us both, apparently.”

  “Do we want to hear it?”

  Jack threw aside his sheepskin jacket, playing for time. He was unsure whether to open his arms and forgive and forget or tell her to take hike. He was surprised how much the first option appealed to him. Okay, so she’d snooped. Get over yourself. She looked up directly at him, her wide eyes deceptively innocent albeit clouded with touching vulnerability that made him definitely want to give her the benefit of the doubt. Hell, it was no good. Much as he wanted to dislike her, he simply couldn’t.

  “Does this involve Leo?” Jack asked, taking the seat beside his buddy as opposed to the one beside her. If he so much as touched her, all objectivity would be lost.

  “I tried to call you today,” she said, looking up at Jack from beneath lowered lashes. “You weren’t taking my calls.” She fiddled with a bracelet on her right wrist. “Not that I can blame you for that.”

  “Say what you came here to say,” Jack said curtly.

  “Okay…well, I know you don’t think well of me but I did have a reason for looking through your things. A very good reason.”

  “Go on,” Leo said when her words stalled.

  “Oh hell, this is difficult. First off, I want you to know that I don’t make a
habit out of going to bed with men whose help I need.” She lifted her head and focused a sincere-seeming gaze upon Jack. “I went with you because I couldn’t help myself. It’s important you believe that.”

  “I take it as gospel,” Jack replied scathingly.

  “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “Any reason why I should?” Jack asked.

  “Okay then, let’s keep it professional.” She took a deep breath and shared a glance between him and Leo. “I told you that I work in an insurance office, right?” Jack nodded. “Well, that wasn’t the whole truth. In actual fact, I’m an investigator for an international loss adjuster.”

  “Strange choice of occupation,” Leo remarked when Jack made no response. “What made you take that path?”

  Jack thought he already knew. If what she had told him about her parent’s death was true—if anything she’d told him approximated the truth—then that tragedy must have had a big influence upon all her subsequent decisions.

  “My parents died in what was deemed a tragic accident,” she said. “The hotel where they were staying was supposed to have no guests staying when it burned to the ground. It was the end of the season so they were closing up. Mum and Dad’s booking had been taken at the last minute and the fire occurred on their first night.”

  “Strange coincidence.” Jack hadn’t planned to say a word or show any sympathy for the tragedy she’d suffered at such an impressionable age. Seeing her struggle to maintain her composure made his complaints about her snooping seem petty. Besides, he wanted to know where she was going with all this. What it had to do with her hitching up with him, and Leo. “There must have been an investigation.”

  “After a fashion. I was too young at the time, just fifteen, to question what actually happened.” She sighed. “Anyway, it was deemed an accident. I looked into it when I was older and found the investigation had been cursory at best. The owners were deep in debt to just about everyone, on the point of going under, but no evidence of arson was found so the insurers had to pay out.”