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

by Zara Chase

“I’m good, thanks. A little nervous about meeting Senor Padron, though.”

  “Let’s grab some coffee and go through to my office. Rick’s going to join us. I hope you don’t mind my telling him but we could use his help.”

  “Er no, I guess I don’t mind,” Chelsea said, feeling a little as though the operation was slipping beyond her control.

  Rick was already in Leo’s office, buttock perched on the edge of Leo’s desk, his husky Ruben at his feet. A knowing smile was playing about his lips as Chelsea walked in and he treated her to a lazy, appraising look. Chelsea petted the dog, giving herself a moment because her cheeks were flaming.

  She recovered and they shot the breeze for a moment or two, then Padron joined them. Presumably he came and went as he pleased, seeing as how he owned the building, and the valley it was situated in. Leo seemed to be on good terms with the small man who wore an air of authority like a suit of clothes. He shook hands with Rick and then, when Leo had made the introduction, with Chelsea.

  He fired questions at her and it was immediately obvious that he was blessed with a keen intelligence and quick understanding. She thought at first that he was going to laugh and tell her to get real. Instead, when he ran out of questions, he shook his head repeatedly.

  “Shame Garcia doesn’t have his chopper back in the air,” he said in heavily accented English, flashing the ghost of a mischievous smile. “He would have flown your Dutchmen wherever they wanted to go and I could have…how do you say? I could have dropped him in the mire.”

  Chelsea shared a glance with Leo, understanding now what he’d meant about fierce competition between the families. Mind you, she could understand why Padron felt aggrieved if he abided by the law when others did not.

  “Tell me about your plan to catch them,” Padron said to Leo.

  “It all hinges on the guys contacting Jack for a ride, of course, but working on the assumption that they do, there’s only one off-piste skiable route out of Nevella into Spain. Here.” Leo jabbed a finger at a large scale map and they all moved closer to take a look. “Affectionately known as Deadman’s Gulch. Jack will land the chopper at Haston Ridge.” Another jab of his finger. “And the start of the run is the same one you took the other day that links up with the lift network, Chelsea. But if our guys want to make their way into Spain, they will need to branch off here.”

  “I use that run with my dogs,” Rick explained. “It’s very steep, but skiable if you know what you’re doing. Until you get to this point here. It narrows dramatically, with tall rocks on either side. It doesn’t get much sun and so it’s more glacier than snow in that area, and it’s too narrow to turn easily. But, if the guys have studied this same map, they will know that once they get through the narrow part, it widens out enough for them to regain control.”

  Chelsea swallowed. “I see.”

  “My dog sled just about gets through that gap but it can be pretty hairy maintaining control of them.”

  “So it’s an ideal place for a dog sled to turn over, blocking the path,” Leo added. “Once Rick knows the bad guys are on the way, he can turn his sled over and lie down like he’s been thrown and lost consciousness. The guys will have to stop, or crash into him.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t possible to stop?” Chelsea said. “If it’s sheet ice, steep and narrow, I can see why.”

  “It’s difficult but not impossible and it’s human nature to avoid colliding with anything at speed,” Rick said. “Anyway, the moment they stop, most likely by falling on their asses, I’ll be on them and so will Ward. He’s expert enough to ski down there and hide behind the rocky outcrop until they arrive.”

  “So am I,” Chelsea said.

  “Not a good idea,” Leo replied. “I’m not saying you can’t ski it but if it comes to subduing them…”

  “I can do kickboxing, karate, and judo,” Chelsea replied challengingly. “Want me to demonstrate?”

  Leo smiled and held up his hands, palms outward, as though fending off the demonstration she was offering. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Jack warned us what your answer would be,” Rick said, shaking his head.

  “I need to do this,” Chelsea replied. “Don’t worry, I won’t slow you down any.”

  “We’ll discuss that later,” Leo said. “Jack will be in radio contact and can fly in to help if needed. He can’t land on the ice and lower down, where the snow’s softer, he doesn’t want to risk stirring up a snowstorm with his rotor. But if necessary, he can do a low pass and intimidate.”

  “What about the people waiting to meet them further down?” Padron asked.

  “They can’t get up that run on a snowmobile, but if they try it, we’ll have Jack dissuade them. We’re not after them, just the guys and the stones.”

  “Well, you seem to have it all thought out,” Padron said. “Do you need anything from me, Leo?”

  “Just your permission to do this our way, Marcel. I know your first instinct was to have the police arrest the guys but—”

  “I’ve thought about that since we spoke last night and have decided it’s not the way to go. It would show Nevella up in an unflattering light to the rest of the world because this is such a big story. That isn’t the sort of publicity we need.”

  “Heaven forbid,” Rick said, chuckling.

  “So, all we need now is a call from Jack to say it’s on.”

  Right on cue, Leo’s phone rang and, sure enough, it was Jack.

  “Tomorrow morning at eleven,” Leo told the others as he ended the call.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jack wanted to finish up early and get back to Chelsea so, Sod’s law, his day was full to bursting point. The crisp, sunny weather had brought people out in droves and it seemed like the entire world and his dog wanted to go heliskiing. Jack couldn’t afford to turn the business away and it was almost five in the afternoon by the time he and Paddy pushed the chopper back into its hangar.

  He drove back to Hadleigh’s quickly, wondering how Chelsea had occupied her day and if she’d missed him. He’d only found time for a snatched phone conversation with her at lunchtime and she’d sounded a bit remote. He hoped to Christ she hadn’t had a change of heart about playing by his rules. She’d had all day to think about it, and without him there to distract her, who knew what silly objections her conscience might have thrown up? Shit, it would be hard to keep his hands to himself if she took a time out. She’d gotten beneath his skin and he’d spent the entire day flying with a near-permanent hard-on.

  Jack stamped snow off his boots at the doorway to the guys’ private lounge, surprised to see a full complement of the residents in occupation of it. At first, he thought Chelsea wasn’t with them. Then his gaze zeroed in other her, sitting between Tanya and Sabine on one of the settees, cooing at Darcy’s little girl who was playing on the rug at her feet. She looked very much at home as she sipped at a glass of wine. But this wasn’t her home, Jack reminded himself. She was only there at his invitation and the fact that she seemed to have slotted right in ought to have set alarm bells ringing.

  Jack wasn’t sure if he ought to be relieved or wary when that didn’t happen.

  “Good day at the office, honey?” Ty asked.

  Jack flipped him off. He threw his jacket over the back of an empty chair, grabbed a beer, and threw himself into a chair, legs splayed, winking at Chelsea as he caught his eye.

  “What are we all doing in here?” he asked, like he didn’t already know.

  “Trying to persuade Chelsea that she doesn’t need to ski down Deadman’s Gulch tomorrow,” Leo replied. “We’ve got it covered.”

  “Don’t be a jerk,” Jack replied easily. “This is her party. She needs to be there.”

  Chelsea shot him a surprised look. “I thought you’d gang up on me as well.”

  “Would it make any difference if I did?”

  “None.”

  “Well, there you are then.” He saluted her with his open bottle. “I pick my ba
ttles.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence then,” she said, looking suspicious, like she thought he was employing reverse psychology, or some such shit. “I was just telling everyone how grateful I am to them for putting themselves out for me.”

  “Sorry, babe,” Rick said. “But this is for Leo and the Padron family as much as it is you. We need to keep Nevella crime-free or we’ll all be out of work.”

  Jack knew that was true but also knew every one of his buddies would have been there for Chelsea, even if their livelihoods hadn’t been on the line. He felt a great swelling of affection for each and every one of them but knew they’d cart him off to the funny farm if he got all emotional and said as much.

  “How did the Dutchmen approach you?” Ward asked. He was perched on the arm of the sofa and draped his own arm casually around Tanya’s shoulders.

  “They’re on a dare, apparently.” Jack rolled his eyes. “One has bet the other two hundred euros that he can’t ski down that run without a guide to keep him on track.”

  “And you’re supposed to believe that?” Darcy asked.

  “Stranger things happen when men on vacation leave their brains at home,” Leo replied. “Especially guys who’re into extreme sports. We were relying on them using their machismo as an excuse.”

  “Right,” Jack agreed, leaning back in his chair and casually hoisting one booted foot over his opposite thigh. “I told them it was out of the question, that I could lose my operating license if I got caught. They said they’d sign anything necessary to absolve me from responsibility and offered me five hundred euros.”

  Tyrell let out a low whistle. “And they say crime doesn’t pay.”

  “I pretended to be tempted but then turned them down.” He grinned. “So they upped their offer to eight hundred.”

  “An offer you couldn’t refuse,” Ross surmised.

  “Dinner’s on Jack,” Rick said, grinning.

  “Are you actually going to take their money?” Sabine asked.

  “Sure. It would look odd if I didn’t.” Jack laughed. “I’ll treat us all to a slap-up dinner at Mario’s when this is all over.”

  “Damned straight you will,” Leo agreed. “And talking of dinner, let’s have an early one in the dining room.”

  “Got plans for the evening, buddy?” Rick asked.

  Leo grinned. “I own that dungeon tonight.”

  “Ah, both your ladies on tap, are they? Don’t know where you find the energy. This little tigress wears me out all by herself,” Ward said, squeezing Tanya’s shoulders.

  “Wanna watch the show later?” Jack asked Chelsea.

  She blushed. “Well, I guess…hell, stop embarrassing me!”

  Everyone laughed. “There’s no need to get embarrassed about sex, Chelsea,” Tyrell said. “Ain’t nothing you can dream of that we haven’t done between us multiple times.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t done them.”

  “It’s been ages since we all ate together,” Leo said, “and I think we owe it to Chelsea to make her feel more comfortable about our lifestyle.”

  “Oh, but I’m not staying—”

  “Great idea,” Jack said, draining his beer. “Is half an hour too soon, Ty?”

  “For you guys, anything’s possible.”

  Ross stood and scooped Darcy’s little girl into his arms. She giggled when he tossed her in the air and then caught her. “We’ll get this little lady settled with the sitter and be right there.”

  “Come on, babe.” Jack stood up, placed his empty bottle aside and held out his hand to Chelsea. “Let’s get freshened up, then we can eat.”

  The group went its separate ways. Back in his rooms, Jack pulled Chelsea into his arms.

  “Did that embarrass you, darlin’?”

  “I’m getting used to how you guys talk about sex the way most other people talk about the weather.”

  “Hey, our lifestyle is way more serious than the weather.” He inhaled the fragrant scent of her shampoo and ran a finger gently down the satin skin of her forearm. “I missed you today. I wanted to be here with you sooner but couldn’t get away. Have you been lonely?”

  “I had an educational chat with Tanya. Then I met Senor Padron and talked through the plans for tomorrow.”

  Which didn’t answer Jack’s question, but he let it slide. “It’s my plans for tonight that interest me a tad more right now. Okay, first things first.” He picked up a carrier bag from the settee and smiled. “Tanya delivered, I see.”

  “Oh, did she? I hadn’t noticed that bag there before. Her errand for you?”

  “Her errand for me.” Jack fixed his sub-in-training with an appraising look. “Now, how are we gonna show you off? Did you bring a pretty top with you?”

  “All my tops are pretty,” Chelsea protested.

  “Show me.”

  Jack looked through the selection she’d brought with her and picked out a white one with a high neck and long sleeves, made from a near-transparent material. There was a camisole to be worn beneath it but Jack discarded that. He pulled the top she was wearing over her head and unsnapped her bra, throwing it on the floor.

  “This ought to cut it. Put it on for me.”

  “But I can’t wear it without—”

  Jack simply raised an eyebrow, folded his arms, and waited for her to remember the rules. She blushed, opened her mouth but then closed it again, and pulled on the top without further objection. It hugged her torso and her pert breasts, raspberry pink nipples and beaded areolas were clearly visible beneath the material. Jack liked the view just fine.

  “Now this.”

  Jack extracted a black lacy garter belt from Tanya’s bag. Chelsea rolled her eyes but put it on without making objections. Jack could tell she was excited, if apprehensive. He handed her a packet containing a pair of sheer, black-seamed stockings. She giggled as she sat on the edge of the bed to put them on, careful to ensure the seams were straight. She stood up, wearing just the top and stockings, and sent him an enquiring look.

  “Very nice. With legs as long as yours are, it would be a sin not to show them off.”

  Jack threw her the tight-fitting black Lycra skirt Tanya had also purchased at Jack’s behest. When she put it on, it barely covered the top of Chelsea’s stocking and finished two-thirds of the way up her thighs. When she sat down, it would leave little to the imagination, which was Jack’s intention. If she could sit at dinner with him and his buddies dressed that way and see how much the guys appreciated the effort she’d made, it would help get her over her neuroses.

  At a nod from Jack, Chelsea pulled on the ankle boots with three-inch spiky heels she’d brought with her from her hotel. Jack had been worried about footwear. He didn’t know her shoe size and figured she would only have sensible ski-weather boots with her. He’d been wrong about that and some sixth sense had made Chelsea bring her sexy shoes with her.

  “Come and look at yourself,” Jack said, steering her towards the full-length mirror in the bathroom.

  Chelsea slowly raised her head, tossed back her hair, and gasped. Jack didn’t blame her. He felt like gasping, too. Her legs, encased in sheer silk, looked as though they went on forever, her tits poked against the fabric of her top and the nipples looked so juicy ripe, so damned inviting that Jack’s zipper was put to the test. There was a seductive look in her eye and her lips were shiny and pouting, like she’d just realized what power she wielded over him.

  “Like the way it makes you feel?” he asked, standing behind her and covering her tits possessively with both hands.

  “Do I at least get to wear panties, Sir?”

  “Hell, no!”

  “But I don’t—”

  “The other ladies won’t be overdressed. Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you. You want me to be proud of you, don’t you, sugar?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course I do.” She nodded decisively and Jack knew she’d decided to let her inhibitions go. “Let’s do this.”

  “Attagir
l!” He grabbed her hand. “Come on. The others will be wondering what’s keeping us.”

  They were the last to arrive in the private section of the bar’s dining room. The sound of thumping music coming from the bar and dozens of voices clamoring for the barmen’s attention were muted.

  Chelsea wobbled on her heels when everyone at the table stopped talking and turned to look at her. Jack’s hand shot out to steady her. He worked his arm around her waist and led her towards the two remaining chairs. Several of the guys whistled their appreciation. The ladies simply smiled at her, secure in the affection of their own partners and happy to welcome her amongst their number.

  Except this wasn’t a permanent thing. Chelsea had gotten to Jack in ways no other woman had managed since his fateful marriage to Alison. But he also knew from bitter experience that commitment ended in heartbreak and he’d vowed never to put himself in that position ever again. And nor would he. Not even for Chelsea. Besides, she had a home, a career, friends—a life he knew nothing about that didn’t include him. They would simply enjoy what they had going while she was in Nevella and then go their separate ways.

  It was safer that way.

  Tanya was wearing a PVC halter top and, Jack was willing to bet, had at least one plug strategically placed. Darcy looked to be dressed normally, but then she’d just come from putting her daughter to bed and never allowed anything about her erotic partnership with Ross to infringe upon her child’s existence. Sabine wore a leotard-type thing and Jack knew there would be a slit in it that left Rick free access to her pussy. Chelsea couldn’t know all of those things but Jack figured their tarty appearances must make her feel less inhibited.

  “Okay,” Leo said. “Let’s get this party started.”

  * * * *

  Slowly Chelsea began to feel less uncomfortable. It was impossible not to appreciate the company—the warmth and friendliness of the women, the raw masculinity of the men. She expected the conversation to be coarse, dominated by…well by the six Doms seated at the table, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The guys encouraged the ladies to express their views on topics ranging from the greenhouse effect to football. There were lively disagreements as the banter flew but Chelsea could tell the friendship between the Americans ran deep and that they would go that extra mile for one another.