by Mia Caldwell
The cut of the wind against his skin and the spray of fresh powder was hypnotic, though he never stopped thinking about Sabela. The logical side of him knew she was fine, that it was undoubtedly just a hangover she suffered from. But the other side wouldn’t stop imagining the worst.
He tried to ski that other side into silence. Calling Marie constantly helped, too. He knew he was beginning to annoy her with his calls, knew she was a busy woman, but he didn’t care. Not today. He had to make sure Sabela was okay.
Before he knew it, it was afternoon. Yet he still couldn’t shake the thought of her.
Sabela.
She enchanted him.
After an evening like the one they’d shared, it had been tantalizing to have her sleeping just a door down from his bedroom, alone. The thought of her soft body warming his bed and melting his frozen heart, was almost more than he could withstand.
Worst of all, he feared it wasn’t just sex that he wanted from her.
The plan was derailing fast, and he didn’t know how to force it back on track.
Sabela was supposed to have been a disposable tool, easily used and even more easily cast away. Above all else, Colin was a businessman, and he knew how to take advantage of his resources.
But Sabela was proving to be too precious to cast aside. What was he supposed to do?
With her, he could imagine a future of companionship, laughter and pleasure, and perhaps even something more.
Was revenge for Blanca’s death worth throwing away the future?
He reminded himself not to get carried away. He hardly knew Sabela, and she certainly didn’t know him. Probably, once he slept with her, all these crazy, other feelings would fall away.
And with that thought, he knew the cure for what ailed him.
Sleep with Sabela Vaughn and get her out of his system.
Damned if he didn’t like that idea. It was the best one he’d had in days, and it fired him up, cleared up the unfamiliar uncertainty he’d been struggling with.
All along, the answer was simple. Have sex with Sabela.
Slashing back down the slope, he laughed in exaltation, pushing his body as hard as he could. Complete focus was necessary to avoid accidents. The treacherous slope was rife with hazards, and as he was the only one who used it, it went unchecked until he blazed through the perilous, exciting parts himself.
Just like Sabela. Dangerous and exciting. And he’d tame the danger she represented the same way he tamed this slope.
When he reached the bottom, skidding to a stop with gusto, he found Bruno standing nearby, waiting. Bruno’s face was kind, but he’d always been rather distant and aloof. He was a fantastic worker nonetheless, and Marie got along with him well.
“What is it, Bruno?” Colin asked.
“The pass is clear. I know you’re expecting more guests to arrive soon, and while another snowfall is expected overnight, if it does close the pass again I don’t think it will be for long.”
The unpredictable weather of the area was its only downfall. Colin nodded, glad to have been informed. If the pass was only going to be open for a short while, he wondered if he should take advantage.
A thought formed, but he quickly shrugged it off.
“Thanks, Bruno. I’ll take that under advisement.” He started to move over to the tow rope.
“Is there anything else I can do, sir?” Bruno asked.
“Do a tune-up and make sure the snow tires and chains are on the sedan. I may want to use it this evening.”
Bruno nodded his reply and didn’t ask any further questions. Instead, he made for the garage. The sedan, Colin was sure, would be ready in no time.
Since Sabela’s arrival, she hadn’t been out apart from their unfortunate time together on the slopes. If she was going to get to know him better, and if he was going to get to know her in the process, going out together seemed a smart choice.
Who would have thought that a small town waitress would throw his life into chaos? Thoughts of Blanca faded from his mind, and his attention turned to Sabela instead. Sexy Sabela.
Colin hopped off the chair and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Recovering from Blanca’s death was only a part of the plan. He had to remember the bigger picture.
In essence, Blanca had been murdered, killed in cold blood by the recklessness of one individual. Until that man was brought to justice, Colin couldn’t allow himself to rest. Blanca was his first love, his first everything, and he needed to ensure that the one who was responsible for taking her from him paid for it.
That was why Sabela was here.
With her under his thumb, he would finally have his revenge against Trevor Vaughn … the man who killed Blanca.
Chapter Twenty-Three
SABELA WOKE FROM HER NAP feeling refreshed and clear-headed. She called Marie for some refreshments, and after eating and showering and getting dressed, she found she had nothing but time on her hands.
Marie suggested she go downstairs to one of the lovely sitting rooms, which she did. She found a chessboard and played against herself for a bit. When that got boring, she skimmed some magazines she found in a rack. The Swiss ones were interesting for a while, even though she couldn’t read them, some of them in French, others in German, one in something she didn’t recognize. Though she couldn’t read them, she could appreciate the design and style.
Marie had told her that Colin had gone back out to ski, and for some strange reason Sabela found this annoying. First, she’d had the strange dream about him skiing, and it had left her feeling uneasy. Second, for a man who was supposedly overwrought about the condition of Sabela’s health, he sure wasn’t in a hurry to come back and check on her.
Third, she was bored as hell and needed something to do. With nothing to do, she kept obsessing over the previous night and how Colin had rejected her advances. With nothing to do, she kept practicing facing him and demanding to know where things stood between them. It had to stop or she’d go crazy.
The more time that passed, the more Sabela wished that she had her laptop so she could be doing some design work. Then she recalled that there was nothing stopping her from going old school.
She made her way up to Colin’s lounge and settled behind the big desk. Marie brought her a pad of paper and some pencils. It was rudimentary at best, but as the day wound on, Sabela lost herself in the basics.
Today, despite the trying circumstances, she felt inspired and drew with confidence and abandon. The first sketch turned into another sketch, and Marie wandered through on occasion refilling her coffee cup and asking her if she needed anything.
Once Marie caught on to what she was doing, colored pencils became available. Sabela happily went back to her initial sketches and added bursts of color.
It was almost frenetic the way she was sketching. The concepts were coming together in her mind, and she started to use the colors to make the more intricate details pop. When she’d falter, all she had to do was look out the plate glass windows to the majestic spread of inspiration that was the Swiss Alps.
She was so engrossed in her work that she missed footsteps approaching from behind until they were nearly upon her. A chill ran down her spine like there were eyes on her, and Sabela turned her head to see who was there.
Colin stood behind her, one hand outreached on the way to touch her shoulder. His expression was unreadable.
Sabela stood up quickly and turned to face him in full, only to have the sheet of paper she was working on fall to the floor. Colin quirked an eyebrow and reached out to cup her face and brush his thumb across her cheek.
The heat returned to her cheeks immediately, and a swell of desire rose up in her belly.
Colin was painfully handsome. His blond hair was slightly tousled and his tanned cheeks were flushed with a red tint from the cold. He smelled like snow, fir trees, and something she couldn’t define, something predatory.
Then he took his hand away and held it up, and she saw why he had touched her. She had l
ead dust on her face.
She scrubbed at her cheek, embarrassed, and stooped to pick up the fallen sketch from the floor.
Colin stepped around her to pick up the sheets of designs. He studied each one. There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her work, and it set Sabela on edge.
“They’re not ready yet,” she murmured, awkward in the face of his cold expression.
It seemed an eternity before Colin put them back down. What did he think? They’d talked about her love of fashion, but he’d never seen any of her work.
None that she was aware of, anyway. It occurred to her that with connections and money like Colin had, he might know more about her than she thought.
“I left you to rest, not work,” he finally said. “I don’t believe it’s too much to ask that you take care of yourself. You represent a significant investment, and I don’t want you in a sick bed when I require your services.”
The blow was savage. Sabela was speechless for a long moment, all the wind taken out of her sails. Why was he being so mean? He’d been nice the previous night. Where had that man gone?
“I’m not sick. And I didn’t have anything else to do,” she said, disgruntled at having to explain herself. “And at least this way I get to be productive. What am I supposed to do with my time while you’re not around?” There was snark in what she said, and she knew it. And didn’t care.
“I’ll say if you’re sick or not. You’re here to be at my beck and call, and be ready to do anything I ask when I ask you to do it,” Colin said. His face hardened even more. “Nothing more, nothing less. I can’t have you wearing yourself out or being distracted by anything else.”
She stood her ground. “So I’m just supposed to sit around and do nothing? I could be sitting on my ass watching TV trying to pretend you don’t exist. Instead, I thought I’d do something I enjoyed. Apparently you don’t want me to enjoy myself.”
From the questionnaire she’d answered, Colin should have known how much her creativity meant to her. It wasn’t just about working on something that might make her a few extra bucks — she designed because she was compelled to do so.
It was in her soul. Today’s designs were some of the best work she’d done in months, and she wasn’t going to let Colin take that away from her.
“I guess I’ll just go stare at the wall until you need me again.” Sabela snatched up her sketchpad and stormed out of the room, down the hall and back to her bedroom.
Head held high, Sabela closed the door behind her. No matter what Colin said, he couldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted during her down time. Sabela spread the sketches out on the antique writing desk and perched on the dainty chair.
Determined to keep going and milk her creativity for all it was worth, she made notes on the sides about what alterations would need to be made.
Caught up in her scribbling, her anger began to burn itself out, leaving her much calmer. Colin didn’t control her. No matter what he wanted, she was going to be her own person.
Nothing was worth being bullied like he was bullying her.
Not much later, she heard a soft, hesitant rapping on her door. “Come in, Marie.”
Marie had been so nice to her that she didn’t want to snap at her when she was actually angry with Colin. The door opened, admitting not Marie, but Colin. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he hesitated at the threshold.
Sabela crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to say something. She refused to be the first one to speak.
“I might have been a bit harsh,” he said, not looking the least bit contrite.
Where was the sorry? It wasn’t going to be that easy to gain her forgiveness.
“A bit harsh?” she asked, incredulous. “You act like I’m some frail, elderly woman at death’s door. I was just drawing, not digging ditches, Colin.”
Colin took a few steps into the room. He caught sight of her sketches on the desk. Finally, he began to show signs of repentance.
He gestured at the drawings. “What I didn’t say is that those are great designs. It’s obvious you’re gifted. Any design school would be lucky to have you.”
Sabela hated the thrill of pleasure she experienced at his words. She shouldn’t care what Colin Morgan thought about her talent.
He probably knew nothing about fashion. So what if his clothes were impeccable and stylish? He probably hired someone to pick them out for him.
Still, she couldn’t stop the rush from his praise. “Thank you,” she said, keeping it reserved, since he didn’t deserve to be forgiven after one little compliment.
A sorry was still missing.
How totally like her luck that the first time she found herself alone in a bedroom with a man she thought she might actually like, they were constantly in the middle of a fight.
“We’ve been holed up in this chalet for the last two days,” he said. “The pass is clear. Would you like to go into town for dinner this evening? A night out would do us both good.”
Sabela was surprised. The invitation was completely unexpected, and while it pleased her, she wasn’t willing to be distracted by trips or trinkets.
She was made of tougher stuff than that. “Are you going to apologize? You’ve been a real —”
“I don’t know what you’re about to call me, but you need to think carefully about it,” Colin interrupted, brow furrowed. “I’ve let you get away with some flippancy today, but only because you’ve been ill. Don’t think that it’s okay for you to forget who’s in charge here, and who you owe quite a lot to.”
Sabela deflated. Suddenly, sadness washed over her, drooping her shoulders and squelching her resistance. “You’re right. I’m just a debtor, not an equal. I don’t deserve a say, or an apology. I’m not your friend, even though I kind of felt like one last night … for a while. Everything always comes back to the money. I get it.”
Colin stared at her. A frown flashed across his lips. It looked like a battle briefly raged inside of him. And then his expression softened and he sighed. “Sabela, I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time today, and I’ve taken it out on you.”
“Thank you for the apology.” Sabela couldn’t resist asking her next question, though it probably wasn’t the best timing. “Is it because of something I did last night?”
The startled glint in his eyes was raw and impossible to fake. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything.”
“I came onto you. I remember it. And you said no.”
She thought she might have glimpsed some respect in his eyes.
“I couldn’t let you make a decision when you were drunk, or tipsy was more like it. That’s all,” Colin said.
The realization struck her hard, and Sabela bit down on the inside of her lip as the weight of his words registered. He’d been looking out for her best interest?
“Oh,” she mumbled. “Thanks, I guess.”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it did, she could tell.
“If it wasn’t that,” Sabela said, “why are you having a hard time today?”
“Because you were ill, and I thought it might be altitude sickness.”
“Hmm. I don’t think that’s it.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”
“I’m not sure, but I am sure you’re not angry because I had a hangover.”
He looked like he was going to argue with her, but he paused for a moment. He watched her eyes as he thought.
Finally, he said, in a deep, low tone, “I’m having a hard time today because I want to throw you on my bed, strip you naked and do some very wicked things to you until you beg for mercy.”
Sabela’s eyes widened, and something shifted in her womb. Her mouth suddenly gone dry, she swallowed hard.
He smiled, his bright white teeth gleaming like a wolf’s. “Not the answer you expected, was it?”
She shook her head slightly, about all she could manage.
“You asked, and I answered
. Now,” he said, smooth and calm as if he hadn’t just propositioned her in the most outrageous way, “if you can forgive my earlier conduct, which was all on me and not a reflection on you at all, would you join me for dinner?”
She wondered what it would be like to be thrown onto a bed. “Er … umm … yes. I’d like that.”
Cocksure in a way that should have been annoying but was actually sexy as hell, Colin said, “I thought you might. Marie will help you with the details. I look forward to this evening. Until then.”
And with those parting words, he left the room. She watched his tight butt flex under his slacks as he went.
Sabela’s brain was stuck in a loop. She couldn’t stop hearing him say, I want to throw you on my bed, strip you naked and do some very wicked things to you until you beg for mercy.
Damn. What wicked things? And beg for mercy? Why?
Damn, damn, damn. She should have asked. Of course, she couldn’t ask, but she wished she could have.
She remembered how it felt to have his lips on her breasts, his teeth tugging gently on her nipples. Her nipples hardened at the memory.
It was all so confusing and maddening. One moment she wanted to run away from Colin, and the next she wanted to beg him to take her. He was such a contradiction.
Maybe, though, if he was being honest about wanting her, maybe it meant he was thawing to her in other ways. Perhaps sometime soon he’d confide in her about whatever it was that had him so obviously conflicted.
Maybe she could help him work through it.
Beneath the cold and beyond the prickly exterior and sharp outbursts, Colin was a man worth knowing.
She knew it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
NOT LONG AFTER COLIN LEFT, Marie arrived in Sabela’s room with a small army of attendants.
“I heard we need to get you ready to go into town,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t need any help with that,” Sabela said. “There’s plenty of dresses in my closet, and the bathroom is stocked to the brim with everything I could want. I’m sure you have a lot of other things to do.”