Suite Embrace

by Anita Bunkley

  “Average.”

  “Only average?” Virina arched a brow and grinned. “Come on. Is that the truth? Usually when someone says that, they’re afraid to admit that they can handle themselves on the slopes pretty well.”

  “You got me,” Richard confessed. “I lied. I’m really a klutz. Not close to average.”

  “So, you’re not going to enter any of the competitions during the reunion?”

  “Naw,” Richard said. “I’m what you might call a chronic beginner. I take lessons, ski for the weekend, then forget everything I learned. Each time I go out, I have to start all over. Can’t seem to master anything.” He chuckled. “Maybe one day it will stick.”

  Nodding, Virina wet her lips in a knowing way. “You’ve probably had poor instructors. A good instructor like myself or Mark could cure you.”

  “Think so?” Richard teased, grinning playfully at Virina.

  “Definitely,” she said, picking up on his relaxed mood, unsure if it was due to the Bloody Marys he’d been drinking or if he was actually flirting with her. Either way, it didn’t matter. She found Richard Nobel to be terribly attractive, but he was married, and she had made up her mind that there was no possibility of getting him into her bed while they were at Scenic Ridge. That kind of complication, she didn’t need. “I’m going to get you out on that powder and teach you the right way to do it,” Virina promised. “Unwarranted fear of failing is the only thing standing between a good time gliding down the mountainside and a miserable time on your backside. I’ll set aside a few hours tomorrow to show you what I mean.”

  “I’d be down with that,” Richard quipped, twirling his drink on the gleaming cherry wood table between them. “Might be fun.”

  “Trust me, it will be an eye-opening adventure, and I’m going to hold you to it,” Virina replied. If only I could teach you a few other things when we’re off the slopes and alone, she wished, assessing Richard closely. A romantic affair—with a future to it, was exactly what she needed right now and she planned to keep her antennae up for suitable prospects while she was in Aspen.

  When the plane had come to a complete stop, Henri opened the door and released the steps. Virina pulled her oversize Dior sunglasses over her eyes, slipped her short, blue frost fox coat over her shoulders, grabbed her Gucci tote and preceded Richard through the door, nodding her thanks to Henri.

  As soon as her stylish boots touched the ground, she lifted her chin even higher, took off across the tarmac in her most dramatic catwalk stride and entered the terminal building with Richard hurrying along behind her, anxious to keep up.

  At the passenger pick-up area, Virina paused in front of a knot of drivers who were holding up signs as they waited for their passengers to arrive. She scanned each sign, and after not finding her name, stepped outside and frowned. Hotel shuttles, town cars, Range Rovers, a few Hummers and a black limousine were parked in the passenger pickup area.

  “I thought Mark was arranging for my limo,” she complained, her voice high-pitched and tight. “A white one, I told him, not black, and with a bar stocked with Linie Aquavit.”

  “Probably on its way,” Richard offered as he walked a few paces farther down the sidewalk, scanned the line of cars and then returned.

  “It should be here right now,” Virina spat out. She whirled around and focused on Henri, the flight attendant, who was busy struggling to get Virina’s skis and her five-piece set of Louis Vuitton luggage onto a rolling cart. “Henri. Where’s my limo? Find out what’s going on and let’s get out of here!” she demanded.

  “Right away. I’ll check on it,” he called over to Virina, who had turned around and was walking back inside the busy terminal building.

  With a grunt of annoyance, Virina sank down into an empty chair near the rental car area and glared at no one in particular while Richard hovered nervously nearby.

  “I absolutely hate waiting around like this,” she complained. “Wasting valuable time. There are so many things I could be doing other than sitting here.” She pulled out her cell phone and began punching in numbers. “I don’t understand how Mark could have mixed things up. I specifically told him to make sure the limo was on time. He knows how much I detest delays like this.”

  “I’m sure your car will be along,” Richard lamely comforted, moving aside to let a woman pushing a stroller pass by. When the woman gasped and stopped abruptly, he stepped back, unsure of what she was going to do and thinking something must be wrong with her.

  “Virina Dagrun!” the woman called out in a heavily accented voice that sounded like German to Richard. She quickly maneuvered the baby stroller closer to Virina and bent down. “You are the face of Deleur Cosmetics, aren’t you?” She beamed at Virina while fumbling in her purse to pull out a mint-colored tube of cream, which she waved back and forth in the air. “I just love your night cream. Love it! Took years off my face. I can’t live without it.”

  Smiling, Virina clicked off her cell phone and stuck it back into her tote, gracing the woman with a megawatt smile. “Why, thank you.” She extended her hand and touched gloved fingers with the stranger’s in a polite, but tepid greeting. “Everyone who tries it is hooked immediately. So glad it’s doing the job for you.”

  “Oh, it is. My skin has never been so smooth!” the stranger gushed.

  “And you’re a very beautiful woman, so I can see that you’ll need my cream for many years to come…it’s so important to maintain, you know?” A throaty laugh slipped from Virina’s lips and brought a beaming smile from the woman. Looking up, Virina scanned the lady from head to toe. “Gorgeous Prada puffer,” she finally commented, giving her approval of her admirer’s attire.

  “Thanks. Isn’t it delicious? Now, may I have your autograph?” the woman rambled breathlessly, digging once again into her oversize hand bag. She located a crumpled piece of paper and a pen, which she held out to Virina.

  “But of course,” Virina agreed with a wave of her hand, clearly not interested in using the materials the woman was offering. She reached into her tote and removed a peach-colored notepad and her silver Tiffany pen, wrote her name with a flourish on the paper and then handed it back to the woman, who gushed her thanks and moved on.

  Richard, who had watched the exchange with interest, stepped over and studied Virina. “Seems you’re about as well-known as your son, huh?”

  Glancing over at him, Virina pointed her chin at Richard and blinked several times, as if trying to grasp his meaning. “Why, yes. Of course, I am,” she bluntly replied. “More so in Europe, of course. As the face of Deleur Cosmetics, I owe everything to my clients, and I enjoy chatting with them when they take the time to stop and speak with me.”

  Before Richard could respond, Henri returned to tell Virina, “Your transportation has arrived.”

  “Thank God,” she snapped, rising. She swept past Richard, through the glass double doors and emerged on the curb once more, where she scowled into the sunlight, clearly frustrated. “Where?” she demanded. “I don’t see a white limo out here.”

  “Over there. That red Jeep,” Henri replied. “The woman driving it said she was sent to pick you up and take you to Scenic Ridge.”

  “She looks exactly as I expected,” Skylar remarked to herself as she shut off the engine and stared at the striking blonde woman draped in fur who was shouting at a small man pushing a luggage cart. Virina Dagrun was mature, yet youthful looking at the same time, and must have been wearing at least ten thousand dollars worth of clothing by Skylar’s calculation. She was tall, slim, delicately pale and bore little resemblance to her powerfully built, muscular, tawny son, who seemed casually unaware of how handsome he was.

  Everything about Virina screamed money, high style and class, and her striking figure was drawing curious stares from some of the people rushing past, who stopped to stare at her, obviously thinking that she must be some kind of a celebrity.

  Skylar bit her lip, surprised by the sensation of envy that flooded through her and gave her
pause. All around her, she saw gorgeously dressed people wearing outrageously flamboyant clothes as they hurried to get their luggage loaded into limos, luxury cars and fancy SUVs.

  “So what?” Skylar murmured, resting her gaze on a man wearing a chocolate-colored suede long coat and knee-high leather boots that were so heavily tooled with silver that they resembled works of art.

  I could afford to drive a Hummer and wear thousands of dollars worth of fancy clothes, too, if I wanted to make sure everyone knew how rich I was, she thought, feeling a bit grumpy. I could turn heads and stop traffic. I could glam myself up and walk around with a flunky tagging along behind me juggling a load of designer luggage. However, Skylar knew that her self-imposed circumstances prevented her from flaunting her money, and it was just as well. She was getting along fine with the staff at the lodge, and they would probably either snub her, resent her or hit her up for a loan if they knew the truth.

  Thank God, Mark didn’t have a clue about her wealth, either. He seemed totally turned off by people with too much money and bored with the whole status symbol thing. He dressed simply, drove a Range Rover, not a Hummer, and lived in a cabin in the woods when he could afford to live in a luxury hotel. He was tired of people with too much cash and too little substance and was content to live a normal, unpretentious life. So far, he seemed to respect the fact that Skylar’s needs were as simple as his and she didn’t plan on upsetting what they had found together by suddenly flashing a lot of cash.

  Now, Skylar prepared herself to face Virina. Steeling herself for whatever might come, she got out of her Jeep while mentally rehearsing her greeting. Mark had warned her that his mother was not easy to please and was rarely satisfied with anything anyone did for her. His suggestion was to ignore any remarks that his mother might make that could be considered insulting and remain pleasantly detached from her drama.

  Hello, Miss Dagrun. Welcome to Aspen. Sorry we weren’t able to arrange for a limo to pick you up, but everything was absolutely booked. Black Winter Sports Reunion and all. The mountain is packed with visitors. The words bounced around in Skylar’s head, drumming into her brain.

  However, before Skylar had advanced two feet toward her passenger, she heard Virina tell the man who was with her, “I’m not riding in that dirty thing!”

  Sucking in a sharp gulp of cold air, Skylar crunched her way across the fresh snow, wishing she had taken the time to run through the car wash on her way to the airport—mud was splattered over the front and sides of her Jeep. But, running late, she had had to make a choice: arrive on time or arrive in a clean, shiny car. Obviously she’d called it wrong.

  Dismissing Virina’s remark, Skylar extended her hand to Mark’s mother, who pointedly ignored it. “Hello, I’m Skylar Webster, the concierge at Scenic Ridge. You must be Miss Dagrun.”

  “I am,” Virina grudgingly stated, arms folded at her waist. “Where’s my limo? I specifically asked Mark to arrange it.”

  “Yes, I know, and he turned your request over to me.” A long beat. “Every limousine in Aspen is booked. We’re very busy right now. However,” she nodded at Henri and pressed on, “if you’ll put Miss Dagrun’s bags in my car and her skis on the rack, we can be on our way.” Then she glanced pleadingly at the handsome man standing beside Virina, as if asking for his assistance, too.

  “Sounds good,” Richard spoke up reaching over to shake Skylar’s hand. “I’m Richard Nobel, here to cover the reunion for Sports Challenge magazine.”

  A surge of relief flooded through Skylar. At least the man was pleasant and hopefully he would be able to calm Mark’s mother down. She shook his hand, giving it a warm squeeze. “Oh, yes. You’re staying at Scenic Ridge, too, aren’t you?”

  “Right,” Richard said, shouldering his single duffel bag.

  “But I thought you were coming in on a later flight,” Skylar remarked as they started toward the Jeep.

  “I was, but Miss Dagrun offered me a seat on her jet, so we could fly in together. How could I refuse?” He chuckled and glanced at Virina, who rolled her eyes and gave her platinum hair a quick shake.

  “And aren’t you glad you didn’t have to deal with the craziness of a commercial flight?” Virina offered, her tone a tad less frigid. “This airport is a madhouse.”

  “I’ve been here when it’s worse,” Skylar added, while keeping her focus on Richard. “Is your cameraman with you?” she asked.

  “No. He’s coming in on the later flight, along with the bulk of the press. I’m sure the airport will be jammed tonight and all day tomorrow, too,” Richard finished.

  “For sure,” Skylar agreed. “The reunion activities start tonight and every hotel is packed.”

  “I understand you’re throwing quite a bash tonight at Scenic Ridge, aren’t you?” Richard added.

  “Yeah. The Slide and Glide Gala. It’s turned out to be the hottest ticket in town.”

  Virina stepped up and linked her arm through Richard’s. “Be sure to save a dance for me,” she whispered into Richard’s ear.

  Skylar widened her eyes, unsure of what was going on. “So, you two are friends?” she ventured, trying to put it all together.

  “No. We met by accident at a restaurant in New York,” Virina rushed to say. “When Richard told me what kind of work he did and that he was coming to Aspen for the Black Winter Sports Reunion, I was thrilled. I invited him to fly in with me. I don’t enjoy flying alone, you see, it’s so much more fun with company.”

  “That was nice of you,” Skylar admitted, doubting Virina’s version of the story. There was something about the way the woman spoke that definitely had a false ring to it. “Well, it’ll be great to have both of you at Scenic Ridge. Shall we get going?” Skylar asked.

  Without waiting for a reply, she walked around to the back of the Jeep, opened the hatch, and waited until Henri had loaded the luggage and fastened Virina’s skis to the top of the car. When Henri headed back inside the terminal, Richard opened the passenger side door for Virina and stood to the side. She made an icy grimace, reluctantly climbed inside and then sat down, remaining rigidly positioned on the edge of her seat as if the cushions were as dirty as the outside of the car.

  Once they were underway, Skylar relaxed and let her thoughts wander to Mark, who was never far from her mind. Since their encounter in her suite last week, they had begun to spend most of their free time together while keeping their attraction under the radar. The last thing Skylar wanted was for her fast-growing interest in Mark to become a distraction—or the subject of kitchen gossip among the staff.

  They had gone into Aspen for dinner, to Snowmass Village to shop, ice-skating at midnight on the rink at the square and had trekked once again up to Brookman Mill to sit and talk and linger and kiss.

  Skylar knew she was falling hard for Mark and was doing little to keep it from happening. It filled her with joy to realize how quickly and how perfectly they actually clicked; that their conversations were so easy and engaging; that they each filled a need in the other’s life that both had thought would be difficult to fulfill. However, Skylar knew she was not doing a very good job of hiding her feelings for Mark, and very soon, everyone at Scenic Ridge would know that they were a couple.

  Mark stayed on Skylar’s mind day and night. She waited by the phone when he said he would call and counted down the hours and the minutes until they were together again. The undercover aspect of their relationship created a heightened sense of anticipation that kept Skylar tightly strung, breathlessly anxious to be with Mark again.

  Mark made no effort to hide the fact that he was falling in love with her and seemed blissfully happy about it. His pleasure radiated in bright, unmistakable rays that beamed from his face and tugged at her heart. She would never forget the intense way he had looked at her when he’d admitted to her that before her arrival at Scenic Ridge, he had felt lonely and lost amidst the constant crush of people who surrounded him. Now, he felt complete.

  Mark’s kisses were driving Skylar mad
. God, how she wanted him, totally and completely, but she knew it would be a dangerous move to give in to her fantasy and go all the way too quickly. First of all, she wasn’t going to be at Scenic Ridge forever: as soon as Deena found a replacement, Skylar was going to leave and go back to Florida—back to the warm, tropical climate she was used to, and maybe back to school. Secondly, her heart was barely healed from her last romantic disaster and she didn’t want a repeat of that kind of pain anytime soon.

  For now, Skylar knew that Mark’s kisses and caresses were all that she could accept from him and luckily, Mark was patiently adhering to the boundaries she’d placed on their fast-developing relationship. He was caring, tender, sincerely interested in what mattered to her, and she respected his restraint.

  When she came to a four-way stop, Skylar cleared her mind, braked and then chanced a glance into the rearview mirror, immediately catching Virina’s attention.

  “If you’re the concierge,” Virina began, in a clipped voice, “what are you doing out here driving people around? Who’s tending to the guests back at the lodge?”

  Skylar gave Virina a weak half-smile. “Kathy, the food service director, is filling in for me. She’s been at Scenic Ridge forever. She can handle anything that might come up.”

  “The food service director? Doesn’t sound very efficient,” Virina remarked, not trying to mask her displeasure. “I thought hotel staff like yourself had to be on site at all times…available to the guests. What kind of a place is Scenic Ridge?”

  “First, it’s a ski school, designed more for students than tourists, though we get a fair number of vacationers. It’s set up to be a safe, comfortable place to learn how to ski and we get a lot of people who have never seen snow before, let alone been on the mountainside.”

  “So Mark has told me.” Virina sniffed loudly. “I do applaud his desire to work with underprivileged children and with those who are adventuresome enough to expose themselves to a new sport. I guess it bolsters their self-confidence and all of that, but I doubt Mark will want to teach at your ski school very long. He’s so talented, you know. He really ought to be at a much larger facility. Some place that will challenge him, allow him to continue to grow. Do you know what I mean?”