Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

by Conn, Claudy

  Shifting sent jagged pain shooting into her left hip. She stopped her progress, one hand raised, clutching the pole. Without the glove, her knuckles would be white. Was her leg broken? Sucking an icy breath through her teeth, she sighed in defeat and watched as her expelled breath crystallized in the chilled air. She figured it didn’t matter. She couldn’t get out anyway.

  Should she keep her arm out, making sure her makeshift distress signal stayed visible? Or pull it in and hope the pole didn’t fall? If the pole fell, she was dead. No one would know where to find her. If she went hypothermic…well, she might recover, or not. Reluctantly, she stiffened the muscles in her arm, holding the pole and glove aloft.

  At least the other was warmer. Could she pull up her feet as well? Having each in a separate hollow drained her body heat. Unfortunately, when she tried to move either, the agonizing pain returned on the left.

  Why hadn’t she told anyone where she was going? Why had she run off?

  Because she saw Kirk and that woman.

  This was ridiculous! How could she be so stupid. He was just a fling, a one weekend thing. It certainly wasn’t worth risking her life.

  “God, if I get out of this, I’ll never let a man get to me again. I swear it!”

  She knew it was a false promise but made the offering bargain nonetheless.

  Wriggling slowly, wincing often, she pushed the snow away from her enough that it wasn’t touching her torso. Snow was an insulator, but she wouldn’t have guessed. Her upstretched arm started to ache. Tasha didn’t know if that was a result of the sapping cold or the strength needed just to keep it in place. Either way, it wasn’t good. The dimming light was worse. If they didn’t find her before sunset, could she survive the night? She thought she recalled stories of some doing it, but she didn’t want to think about the possibility. At the rate she was going, it felt like she would freeze solid in the next hour.

  An hour? The time was slipping away, even when each minute seemed to stretch. She had been down here an hour, at least. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to pull out her phone again. It was worth trying to call for help. The screen lit up, long enough to let her know exactly how long it had been, two and a half hours, and to call 911. Once again, the phone cut out before the call connected.

  Despair engulfed her, and she tucked her chin into her chest, letting her scarf meet her hat. The rough yarn absorbed the tears she shed just as it had sopped up melting snow. Her eyes drifted shut.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kirk turned his skis parallel to the slope, sliding slowly past a group of trees. Everywhere the snow was smooth, pristine, and the sunlight was fading in the west. This had to be the right slope. He heard a rumble and immediately looked upslope, expecting a deluge to come rolling down. The sound came from the other direction, and he watched an outcropping break away. It didn’t tumble over the entire run, but definitely clipped the edges, sending snow and branches from trees across the undisturbed white snow.

  Undisturbed. The whole slope was undisturbed. No one had used the run all week.

  Denying his own sense of futility, he skidded from the spruce trees here to those on the edge of the next turn.

  Was that...red? A surge of hope seizing him, he dug in his poles and pushed right to it.

  “I swear. I swear.” It was Tasha’s voice, faint and stuttered, but it was her.

  “Tasha! Hold on!” He was tempted to shed his skis, get right down next to her, but he knew better. Without the broad, flat surface to spread his weight, he’d sink into the snow beside her. He knelt as far as he could. “We’re going to get you out of there.” He took the pole and followed it down, pushing snow to the side until he uncovered the top of her head. The knit cap she wore was caked with snow, frozen in place.

  “Kirk? No, I must be hallucinating.”

  “You’re not!” He laughed and reached down to touch her cheek.

  Tasha gasped and clumsily tried to grab it with her left.

  “Hold on. I’m going to call the patrol.”

  “My phone…died.”

  “It’s okay, Tasha. You’re going to be fine. Just hold on.” He ripped off his glove and tossed it to the snow. It seemed to take a whole minute for the phone to begin to ring and another for someone to answer.

  “Patrol.”

  “I’ve found her. We’re on Kay. Are you hurt, Tasha? Do they need to bring a stretcher?”

  “Yes. My leg…”

  “Okay, honey. She won’t be able to leave on her feet.”

  “We’ve got it covered, Mr. Doehr. We’ll be there in ten.”

  “Ten?” The phone had disconnected so he couldn’t complain about the response time. Instead, he did the last thing he should, and shed his skis.

  “Ack!” Tasha flailed as the snow around her moved. “Ow!” Her whimper broke his heart.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt. Just wanted…” He reached out and cast away the snow between them, packing it to the sides until he could get his arms around her. Using the thumb and forefinger of his gloved hand, he tugged at the zipper on his jacket enough to expose his neck and upper chest. “Here, tuck yourself here.” He used his still bare hand to press her icy cheek to his collarbone, encouraging her to push her cold nose under his Adam’s apple. “It’s okay, Tasha. It’s okay now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  December 21st, late afternoon.

  Tasha woke with a start, pins and needles running down her left side and a persistent deep throbbing in her hip. The last thing she remembered was a dream of Kirk finding her in the snow.

  She wasn’t in the snow, rather surrounded by fluffy covers with warm spots up and down her sides. Blinking against the light, she slowly opened her eyes. The sun streamed across the bed through the window. It was a hotel room, not a hospital bed. She sighed in relief.

  Shifting in the sheets, one of the large bean bags that had been heated and tucked to her side slipped away, its whisking finally letting her know what it was. She pulled it close again, still loving the lingering warmth.

  No hospital, no cast. Did that mean her leg wasn’t broken? Wiggling the toes of each foot, she found both responded and neither resulted in pain. When she tried to move her ankles, however, she discovered the left was bound and the little movement she managed brought tears to her eyes.

  “Hello?” she called, expecting whoever had put her to bed would still be near. It had to be Kirk, didn’t it? Or had she only dreamed him?

  The door to the room opened, revealing an older woman with a beige ceramic pitcher in one hand and pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose. She met Tasha’s open eyes with surprise. “Oh! You’re awake. How are you feeling, dear?” The woman set her burden on the nightstand, and then perched gingerly on the edge of the bed. “You look well. Good pink in your cheeks.”

  Tasha touched her face, not sure how to respond. “Kirk?” she asked.

  The woman chuckled. “Yes. He will be back soon, I’m sure. Anika and Teresa are trying to distract him so he doesn’t spend every minute worrying, but nothing is going to keep him away. Would you like a glass of water?” Lifting the pitcher, she poured the crystal clear liquid into a glass. “Are you warm enough?”

  Sitting up took more trouble and included more pain than Tasha preferred. The woman helped her, shifting pillows. “There. Kirk wants to work on your hip more. He thinks he can work that out. Nothing to be done for your ankle, though. It’ll be fine in a few days.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, accepting the glass of water, grateful for the chance to soothe her parched throat.

  “Oh! I’m Mary Doehr.”

  “You own the Chalet?” Her jaw dropped.

  “With my husband, yes.”

  After sipping the water, she wondered aloud, “Why would the owner concern herself with me?”

  Mary showed no sign of offense, sipping from her own glass and then offering a genuine smile that reached her eyes. “Because you are our guest. It is rare such an accident
occurs, so we always ensure our guests receive appropriate attention when it does. In your case, that is primarily rest.” She smiled again, patting Tasha’s hand. “Rest and massage.”

  “Kirk.” Her vision blurred, thinking of him dressed as Santa giving her a massage that had turned into much more. Only when she sniffed did she notice tears in her eyes.

  “Yes. He is finally getting some sleep of his own. He refused to leave your side until I promised to stay with you and call as soon as you woke.” Mary rose and turned so she could meet Tasha’s gaze properly. “You won’t tell him I waited on making that call, will you?” She patted her hip where her phone hung on a jeweled strap. “A mother does have some prerogatives.”

  “Mother?” Tasha started to wonder if she was still asleep. First the owner of the resort in her room, personally tending to her, and then Kirk being part of that family. The dark-haired man looked nothing like the woman standing before her aside from the cerulean eyes. It all seemed far-fetched. After all, he was a masseur and desk clerk. The son of such a wealthy family wouldn’t need to do either, would he?

  “Oh, yes. He said he hadn’t told you about us. No matter. Even if you hadn’t claimed Kirk’s attention, someone would have been watching you. As I said, it isn’t often someone is lost on our slopes. Injuries aren’t uncommon, but those are quickly discovered and easily addressed by our own medical staff, or relocated to the hospital. You, my dear, happened onto a run that had been closed for several days. No one saw you and no one would have gone looking for you there. If Kirk hadn’t decided to try it...well, let’s not dwell on that. I still have a problem with him racing down it on his own. There is a reason it was closed.” Her voice dropped off into muttering toward the end.

  “It was dangerous for him?” Tasha asked, trying to recall anything more than wiping out and being buried in snow.

  “Quite. That slope was due for an avalanche. He actually saw a partial slide moments before he found you.” She shook her head, white-blonde locks swaying over her shoulder. “In the end it was worth the risk and no harm came to him, only you. And I am glad he found you, dear. He is quite taken with you.”

  “He is?” Tasha listened to her own clipped echo responses. She must sound like an idiot, but her brain was still sluggish and the whole situation was strange and unexpected. Trying to break it into chunks, she worked at digesting the information. Closed run. Kirk. Taken with her.

  Before she could come up with a more cogent reply, Mary had a question for her. “Do you have a dress among your bags?”

  “Um, yeah. Nothing fancy.” It was more slinky than classy, one she'd hoped would grab Kirk’s attention over dinner.”

  “Excellent. If it isn’t quite right, I’m sure Teresa can lend you something that will fit. Miss Kingsley, Tasha if I may, we would love for you to join our family festivities this Christmas.”

  Tasha opened her mouth to protest, but Mary didn’t give her the chance.

  “It isn’t much, just dinner and a gift exchange. We know you won’t have gifts for us.” Mary stomped on that argument. “And our to you will be appropriate, something for you to open but not so much that you feel awkward for not having your own to give. Trust me, between Teresa and I, you will have something perfect for remembering your visit.”

  Tasha waited a few moments after Mary finished speaking to be sure she was done. “That sounds nice. Who is Teresa?”

  “Oh! We will have to introduce you to all of us. Teresa is Kirk’s sister. She is married to our chef, Jacques. You will also meet his two older brothers, Justin and Lawrence, and their wives and children. My husband, Frans, will, of course, be there, and Kirk's cousin and her partner actually made the journey this year. It'll be an absolutely enchanting time, and the food will be great, I promise you.”

  Tasha’s mind spun on all the names. It wasn’t a small family. “And you’re sure you don’t mind me joining you?”

  “Pish. We want you to join us. Truly. I don’t think Kirk has realized that I will be inviting you, but I know he will want you there.” She bent slightly to take away the now empty glass. “Do you need anything else? Warm ups?” Mary patted the duvet where it covered one of the bean bags.

  “No, in fact,” Tasha flipped back the cover from one leg. “I’m getting a bit warm.”

  Mary’s smile broadened. “I am very glad to hear that. You would probably love a bath or shower, but I think, until that hip is dealt with, you’ll have trouble with either. I will call Kirk now. He will be terrible if I don’t let him know you’re awake. Also, he’ll be eager to treat you with massage.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kirk sat up at the sound of his phone ringing. “Yes, Mom? Is she up?”

  “She is, and she would like that massage so she can make her way to the tub.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Kirk!”

  He hesitated in cutting off the call.

  “She’s fine, Kirk. Take a shower first, please.”

  He could almost hear Tasha laughing in the background. “Fine.” He dropped the phone on the bed to jump in and out of the shower.

  Lying next to her for hour after hour hadn’t erased the ache her felt for her. Her body was in his arms, but not her sass, her humor, her voice, her smile. He needed those. Even without that, he’d had to resist the urge to touch her more than lightly, to kiss only her temple, not her neck or collarbone. She certainly smelled like she had when he’d last seen her. Luckily, his erection pressed to the back of her leg hadn’t disturbed her. He wished it had. Not because he was horny, but because he wouldn’t believe she was okay until she told him. Waking would do that. Then he could sleep in peace.

  Instead he’d lain awake, thinking of all the things that might go wrong, all the precious body parts that might have been frozen too hard or too long. His mother'd had her work cut out for her convincing him to go sleep in his own bed. In the end, her logic had won him over, her assurance, that she would sit with Tasha and his warmth could be replaced with heat packs.

  Scrubbing his face, he opted to skip the shave. He had stubble, but it was barely there. The need to see her awake overrode everything else and he cursed when he had to return to pull on a shirt. Taking another moment, he made sure his pants were on and fly done up.

  Racing down the hall, he didn’t hesitate to pull out his master key and let himself into the room.

  Mom sat in the chair from the desk and was telling Tasha one of the more embarrassing stories from his childhood.

  “He kept asking, is it red? Does it look red? No one could convince him that he looked perfectly normal. Maybe a bit shriveled from cold.”

  Tasha’s laugh warmed his heart even as his mother’s words warmed his cheeks. “Mom!”

  “Yes, love. She’s fine, just as I told you. Did you bring your table?”

  The blush in his cheeks had to be spreading. His whole head felt flush. “No. I’ll be right back.”

  “Perfect. In the meantime, Teresa is his older sister, but you would never have known it.”

  He pulled the door closed on his mother’s voice. He could guess which story about Teresa she would choose. The sooner he got back, the sooner he could cut her off. He knocked when he arrived the second time, not wanting to fight his key from his pocket.

  Mom opened the door and held it for him. “I’ll just let myself out,” she told them both. “I’ll stop by in a couple of hours, if that suits you both. I’d like to see that Tasha gets a proper meal.”

  “That sounds great, Mrs. Doehr.” Tasha answered before Kirk could.

  When the door snapped shut, he released the table to the floor and sat on the bed, his hand going to her cheek. “Are you okay?”

  Her smile and chuckle warmed him through and through. “Yes. I’m fine. Well, except for this ankle and the twinge here.” She pulled the cover back to reveal her naked hip.

  They’d stripped her of her cold, wet clothing before dropping her in a tepid bath to warm her slowly. From there
, Kirk carried her to the bed and curled up with her, fully clothed, using his own body heat to warm her from there. However, looking down along the side of her breast and over her hip didn’t create the same concerned reaction as her still, naked body in the bath had. No, this was like when he curled up with her and inhaled her scent. He fought to keep his hand off her more intimate parts and on her cheek.

  He cleared his throat and rose. “Yes, well, I can help with one of those.” He unfolded the table and set it up.

  “I hoped you could.”

  The minx was smiling at him in a way that could only reflect the shared memory of the last time he had massaged her. His heart raced and his cock throbbed in his pants.

  “We’ll keep this professional at first, okay? Just until you can move easily. After that, all bets are off.”

  “Good. I look forward to that part.” She shifted and winced.

  Kirk finished his work, adding a cover to the mattress so he could transfer her to the table. He placed her on her back and worked with her to get her onto her stomach. By the time her face was planted in the headrest, she had a sheen of sweat that wasn’t from arousal.

  “I’m sorry it hurts.” Kirk ran a hand down the center of her back, trying to soothe her. “It won’t hurt much longer. Try to relax for me.”

  She groaned and muttered. “I’m trying.”

  “I know you are. Do you know how badly you scared me?”

  “No. I didn’t think you’d notice I was gone.”

  He paused in the middle of warming oil between his hands. “Why? I’d been looking forward to seeing you since I saw your reservation.”

  She sighed. “That’s good. When I came in, you seemed completely taken with another woman, so I thought…”