Sinna, Simone - Icebreaker (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Home > Other > Sinna, Simone - Icebreaker (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) > Page 7
Sinna, Simone - Icebreaker (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 7

by Simone Sinna


  I have a package from DJ for you. Meet top Mary’s Slide 3:30 p.m.

  There was no signature. A package? Sienna’s thoughts flew to Kim Story’s report on Elle. Was this drugs? Money? Hadn’t Elle said no one knew her here? But then she had been insistent that while here, Sienna had to be her and there had to be a reason for that. Had Elle just assumed Sienna would naively take it and do as she was told? Had Elle sent her because she knew she was being watched? What if she didn’t turn up? Sienna’s heart was racing. Something didn’t feel right and for the first time she wished she had managed to work harder on the gun license.

  Fingers trembling, she texted back. And you are?

  Five minutes later, the reply came. All you need to know is that DJ expects this delivered. Don’t disappoint him.

  * * * *

  Connell was talking to Tony Latimer on the phone, discussing the weather situation when he saw Elle battling the wind gusts out the front of Snow City, skis in hand. The visibility hadn’t improved, but her electric blue suit was distinctive. And she had been on his mind. What on earth was she thinking, going out in this weather? He cut short the conversation and grabbed his ski jacket and headed out after her. He put his ski boots on rather than his snow boots and took his skis. But by the time he was outside, there was no sign of her. The nearest ski run was the Basin. He went over to the lift operator and asked if seen a flash of blue.

  “Sure did, mate,” the young man said. “Seemed to be in a hurry. Went that way.” He pointed down. Connell stared into the mist and was feeling uneasy until he noticed the man to his left putting on his skis. It was Heavy Jowl from Icebreaker. Then for reasons he could not pinpoint, his uneasiness became fear.

  * * * *

  Sienna hadn’t realized just how far Mary’s Slide was. On the far edge of the ski slopes that were manned by the patrol it required going down the valley and back up on the chair lift on the other side, and then what looked like a cross-country hike to get to it. She hadn’t been on the side of the mountain with either Jean-Claude or Connell and to her dismay saw that it was a black diamond run that finished in a long cross-country trek along a small river before she could get to a chair lift. As she wasn’t up to a black diamond run in good weather, there was no way she was tackling it in a blizzard. On top of this, the lifts closed at four p.m., and if the conveyor of DJ’s package was running late, not only would she have to trek back the way she’d come, she’d have to go across the entire ridge to the road and hope for a bus or else walk home, carrying skis. It was dark by five and she had no idea how long it would take her. As a precaution she took a small torch, but she wished she had a flare gun as the weather became icier and icier by the minute.

  She managed the blue run down to the Heavenly Valley chair without difficulty. If anything it was slightly easier as there was virtually no one on the slope, no nervous beginner unable to get out of her way and no crazed snowboarder coming from behind and colliding with her. But the chair ride was long and slow and lonely. By the time she reached the top, her fingers were blue with pain and her nose numb. Getting off at the top, the wind howled around her and apart from the lift operator rugged up behind glass she was alone. Getting her bearings she headed off to the right, directly into the wind that left her moving so slowly she wasn’t even certain she was making progress. She looked at her watch, snow falling on its face making reading the time hard. Three twenty-five. She was going to be late.

  Progress was very slow. He had presumably chosen this site because it was isolated and they were unlikely to be seen even on a good day. Sienna hoped this package was worth it, and was praying it wasn’t drugs. Money would mean nothing, but if it was drugs she would have to go the cops. She wasn’t sure whether Elle would care or not.

  She finally found signs to Mary’s Slide and Leap of Faith. Given she couldn’t even see the ski slope, it would have taken her more than a leap of faith to go to the edge. She would have to have been insane. There was no hut or obvious meeting place and it occurred to her that her texter might well be there and neither of them would know.

  She didn’t want to stay still. As hard as moving about was, she was afraid she might freeze to death if she didn’t keep active. Besides, she needed to look for this man so she could get the package and get back to a hot bath and a cup of hot chocolate. Or maybe a mulled wine. She was jumping up and down on the spot, skis still attached when she thought she heard something behind her. She had no idea what happened next. But suddenly she was propelled forward, desperately trying to get her balance, as the snow beneath her fell away and she tumbled forward into oblivion.

  * * * *

  Connell was used to responding instinctively. It was how he had nearly won an Olympic medal and how he had ultimately survived the fall that ended his skiing hopes. He didn’t know why Heavy Jowl set off anxiety at this moment when he hadn’t the night before, but he knew he didn’t have time to think about it. He threw his skis down, clipped his feet into them and set off after the man.

  Connell’s first assessment was that Heavy Jowl was a competent skier, but not professional. There wasn’t the smoothness to his style that instructor’s emulated. He was more workman-like, though that may have been because of age and weight gain. Connell kept behind him all the way to the bottom, and jumped on the chair lift two behind. Ahead he could just make out a flash of electric blue. There was no doubt. Heavy Jowl was following Elle.

  The lift was slow and there was plenty of time to ring Steve.

  “Why would she be in danger?” Steve said, reasonably enough. “She works for DJ and I can’t see anyone else in the equation.”

  “I guess they could just be meeting,” said Connell, but he wasn’t convinced. “What about Harry?”

  “Harry is a yes-man.”

  “Why then are they meeting in the middle of fucking nowhere in a snowstorm? She’s barely above beginner level and they’re heading to the extreme ski zone.”

  There was silence.

  “What do you mean she’s a beginner?”

  “I’ve skied with her, remember? Keeping her out of harm’s way.”

  Silence again. “Are you sure? Could she have been pretending?”

  Connell frowned. “I suppose so, but why would she? It was a good act if she was.” He thought a moment. “More than a good act. When she looked down the black run it was naked panic.”

  “What,” said Steve slowly, “does she look like?”

  “Ah, well, hot actually.”

  “Details needed Conn.”

  “Well, brunette, kind of longish, attractive in an ‘I don’t know I am’ sort of way.”

  “How tall?”

  “Not very,” said Connell, thinking of her eyes looking up at him and how much he had wanted to kiss her. “Maybe five four at most.”

  “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “We have a big problem. Haven’t you seen Story’s description and photos? Elle O’Grady as of only a month ago was a short haired blonde. And don’t bother telling me she has a wig. She’s five ten and I don’t think she can slouch that much.”

  * * * *

  Sienna felt herself sliding. Underneath her seemed to be sheer ice and she was moving too fast and the snow glare was too great for her to have any idea of where she was or where she was going. She’d lost both skis and stocks and as her pace accelerated, she knew she had to try to stop herself before a tree did it for her, permanently. She tried digging her heels in but she was travelling headfirst and swiveling was almost impossible. Her mouth and nose were full of snow and she could barely breathe, but she was more afraid of trees than suffocation.

  Several trees whizzed past her and she managed to swivel enough to see the next coming, off to her right, and with all her effort kicked a leg out. It hit the tree with a thud and she cried out in pain, but it did slow her down and enable her to kick her heels hard into the snow. With one final twist, she came shuddering to a halt, face-first in a pile of fresh white powder. She pulled
her head up and sat there for what seemed like forever but was probably no more than two minutes, getting her breath and checking her body out. Large bruise on one leg, tender ankle and injured pride. But well and truly alive, more by good luck than good management. Now she had to work out where she was and how to get to safety. At least she still had the map, her phone, and her torch. As it was already getting dark, she was more than a little afraid she would need it.

  She was aware suddenly of snow spraying above her, and listened above the sounds of the wind to the crisp cutting sound of skis slicing through down the slope. She was about to yell out for help then stopped herself. What had happened? She thought back. She hadn’t fallen, she’d been pushed. Now they were coming after her to check out that they had succeeded—or to finish off the job. There was nowhere to hide and she couldn’t have out-skied them even if she still had her skis. She threw herself over the tree beside her and played dead.

  * * * *

  Connell wasn’t sure what happened, but one minute Heavy Jowl was sliding up to Elle and the next both she and then he disappeared. Over the edge. He still had fifty yards to go and he accelerated with a surge of adrenaline-driven energy. It was hard to grasp which danger was greater. The slope in this condition was treacherous enough. For a beginner it could easily be lethal. And that was without worrying about Heavy Jowl, who most certainly did need to be worried about.

  Connell knew he was younger and taller, but Heavy Jowl would have weighed more and he looked like a man used to fights. Connell wasn’t. The only weapons he had were his stocks and surprise so he needed to make the best of both. Taking off down Mary’s Slide, he headed straight after Heavy Jowl. The man however heard rather than saw him, and after a moment’s hesitation, did an abrupt turn and went off to his left at full speed. Connell slid to a stop at where the man had been and picked up a ski. The other was off to the right and rather than going for Heavy Jowl, he went after the ski and hoped its owner was not far away.

  * * * *

  She heard him stopping right beside her. Trying to breathe as shallowly as she could, she prayed he would just leave her, thinking she’d freeze to death. But instead she heard him take off his skis. Fuck. He probably wanted her cellphone so no one could trace her. But rather than feel in her pockets, she saw gloves thrown at her feet and felt hands on her neck. Shit, he’s going to strangle me. Knowing she had little hope but that she didn’t intend to die without a fight, Sienna lurched backwards, hitting her head hard against what turned out to be his shoulder. But instead of this encouraging him to let go, he held her all the harder and the two of them, entwined, started slipping back down the slope as she fought him as hard as she could.

  “For God sakes, woman, I’m trying to save you!”

  It took a moment for Sienna to register. She went limp and looked straight up into Connell’s face.

  “Oh shit, sorry,” said Sienna, her and Connell’s heels digging them back into the slope as they slowed and finally stopped.

  “Well, at least I guess this means you’re okay.”

  Panting, Sienna nodded. “I think so. What happened?”

  Connell looked at her grimly. “I was rather hoping you could tell me.”

  “I’m not sure I really know,” Sienna mumbled.

  “There will be time to think about it,” said Connell, still sounding angry. “Right now I want to get you off the slope in one piece. Are you up to skiing or should I call the ski rescue team?”

  The ignominy of being transported on a stretcher was beyond the pale, though how she would ever make it to the bottom she wasn’t sure. She could always walk, and anyway she must have slid most of the way by now. She stood up and tried to get the snow out of the crevices that were causing the most problems. “I’ll ski.”

  Connell looked at her, shaking his head, and laughed. And before she knew what he was doing, he pulled her to him and kissed her, hard. She kissed him back before she realized what she was doing the taste of snow and salt mixed with the adrenaline surging through her system made her want more.

  “I wanted to do that since the first time I saw you.”

  “And now that you saved my life you felt I’d let you get away with it?” Damn there is Steve. What about my feelings for him?

  “Let’s just say I think I deserved it.”

  Though her heart was pounding and her legs trembling, she made it all the way down without a fall. Connell went first and they did it small section at a time. It seemed to take hours, but finally she caught sight of the creek and the path leveled out into a trail that while narrow was not especially steep and took the scenic route along the valley floor, over bridges and at times dangerously close to the water. When they arrived at the lift, it had long since stopped, but a phone call brought two snowmobiles down the mountain in no time, and she was soon being ferried back up to safety.

  Connell took her to her door. “Enjoy a long, hot bath,” he said. “Then you and I are going to have a very long talk.”

  Why did she get the feeling that this might be one talk she didn’t want to be part of?

  Chapter Eight

  Sienna was half asleep when the pounding at the door brought her back to the present. She moaned. The fantasy she had escaped to was far more appealing than being interrogated by Connell.

  But it wasn’t Connell. Still in a towel, she stared. It was Lindsay.

  “Mister Prescott has sent me to collect you for dinner,” he said.

  Sienna was sorely tempted. Connell wouldn’t be happy, but an evening with Steve would have a definite upside. But she was sore and bruised before entering his playground and probably too exhausted to enjoy it.

  “Tell Mister Prescott I would love to, but I can’t. I had an accident and need to recover. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

  Lindsay didn’t move. “I’m afraid, Miss Martin, I was told not to take no for an answer.”

  Sienna noticed his foot had moved up against the door. She groaned inwardly. This was all part of the Dom-sub thing she supposed. Any other day…still she could always just meet him for dinner and explain.

  “Okay,” Sienna said. “Give me ten.”

  It took fifteen, largely because she wasn’t sure what to wear, but in the end went for the white knit. It was a little less obvious and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. She texted Connell from the car and hoped he wouldn’t be too annoyed. He had, after all, saved her life. But aside from the talk there was the kiss and she really didn’t know what to do about that. She would have to talk to Steve, tonight, about just what he meant about her being a sub. Was that just for two more days or was there a chance of something more?

  There was no one else at High Towers. Lindsay let her in the front door and then took her through to a room at the back, set for dinner for two. A large candelabra was filled with real candles, the room’s only light. There was no sign of Steve. But there was red wine open on the table and Sienna was feeling in need of it. She poured herself a glass. It smelt of blackberries and tasted of spices and made her feel almost dizzy.

  “Do you like it?”

  Sienna opened her eyes and saw Steve watching her. He had on an open-necked white shirt and his usual slightly baggy trousers. She smiled. “It’s delicious.”

  “Well, you have good taste. It’s a poor man’s Grange Hermitage, but far better value for money.” He poured himself a glass and put it up in a toast. “To…learning more about each other.”

  Sienna clinked her glass. “I can’t stay long,” she said. “It’s been a rather eventful day.”

  “Oh?”

  Sienna gave an edited version of her ski accident. “So I really think I need to go to bed…alone…and recover.”

  “Let’s eat and see how you feel then, shall we?”

  Dinner was excellent and Sienna hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Food, and the red wine, quickly mellowed her, but she was aware that there was something about Steve she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He seemed more catlik
e than normal. More aware, aroused. Hoping perhaps she’d stay the night?

  “You toasted to knowing more about each other,” she said as the main course of venison was being finished. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Certainly.”

  “I only have one more night here. Maybe not even that. Is that the last I’ll see of you?”

  There was a flicker of what appeared uncertainty. “I imagine that depends,” he finally said.

  “On?”

  “On you.”

  “Oh.” Depended on her being a good sub or wanting to see him?

  “You know I think you have tremendous potential,” said Steve smoothly. He stood and walked over to her chair, offering his hand to her. Nervously she took it and let him pull her to standing. He looked down on her, eyes fixing on her unblinkingly as he moved a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “I feel like I am being auditioned,” said Sienna softly.

  “Only if you want to be,” said Steve, lips brushing her eyebrows and nose before finding her lips and gently pushing his tongue in between her teeth.

  “But auditioned for what?” said Sienna pulling back. “Plaything? One of many playthings? Your Hotham plaything?” She stopped herself. She didn’t want to sound possessive, but she had to be honest to herself. She knew she could easily fall for this man and fall hard. She didn’t want to wake up to pictures of him with someone else at some event. She needed a commitment.

  Steve looked at her and seemed to be weighing his options. Finally he sighed. “I nearly got married once,” he said.

  Sienna held her breath. She knew instinctively that whatever he was about to tell her was critical in understanding him. Perhaps it would help her decide whether it would be better to walk away now before she got really hurt.

 

‹ Prev