Snow and Seduction: A Steamy Reverse Harem Winter Collection

by Amanda Rose

  When I look at my mum now, sitting in her stained tracksuit, her blonde hair greasy and her skin tinged grey I am reminded that I will never have the mother I always wanted. Before the alcohol had ravaged her looks, she had been attractive, beautiful even. In her soberer moments, she would tell me that I looked just like her when she was my age and would brag that I was even better looking. I miss my lucid mum, but she isn’t around much anymore. Whether I like it or not, the woman before me is all I have.

  “Are you alright, Mum?” I sigh.

  “Now the fucking sympathy. Just take the money and piss off,” she screeches.

  Dom leers at me, his own eyes hazy and unfocused. “That’s a good girl. Do what mummy says,” he titters, blowing cigarette smoke at me. I want to smack the look off his face but I don’t, I take the money and leave.

  “Louisa, love, it’s good to see you,” Richard says as I enter the café, mum’s bottle of vodka in my hand. “That for Lorna?” he asks pointing to the bottle.

  I place it on the Formica table and shrug off my winter jacket. “No, it’s mine,” I say sarcastically, pulling off my beany hat and scarf, my blonde hair tumbling free.

  “Stupid question.” He smiles kindly at me and I feel guilty for being such a bitch. “Rough day?” he asks.

  “You know what mum’s like. She’s got herself a new boyfriend, and she’s worse than ever. She’s so pissed right now that I doubt she’ll even remember asking me to buy her this bottle of vodka.”

  Richard looks at me with a worried expression on his ruggedly handsome face. He is a couple year’s older than mum, who is forty-nine this year though she looks far older. I never understood why mum made him leave. He had been good for her, for us, and the only man who ever really gave a shit about her. Mum tolerates our friendship when she is bothered enough to stay relatively sober that is. Otherwise, she curses both me and Richard for all her problems. Most days his name is mud just like mine.

  “If I thought I could help her get dry, Louisa, I would…” His voice trails off as the waitress arrives with a cappuccino for Richard and a latte for me.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asks.

  “That’s it for now,” Richard says. The waitress leaves us in peace and I take a sip of my drink.

  “So, you said you might have some work for me?”

  “You know the offer still stands, Louisa,” Richard says, ignoring my question for the moment. “You can come live with me if it gets too much.” He pats my hand, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from bursting into tears. I don’t look at his face, I can’t. His kindness and his friendship have been the only thing that has kept me sane these last five years.

  “She’s my mum, Richard. Despite everything that she’s done to me, I can’t leave her.”

  Richard sighs. “I understand Louisa, truly I do. But she is a grown woman. She must take responsibility for herself. It isn’t up to you to fix her. You can’t do that, love.”

  I press my fingers into my eyes. “I know, but I have to try.”

  Richard gives me a moment to gather myself, then slides a holiday brochure onto the table. On the front of it is a picture of a ski slope with people dressed in colourful skiwear. They are all smiling. I look at him with a frown.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “This is what I was talking about. I’ve been working as the marketing director for a ski resort in Alpe d’Huez, France. My friend Bastien is running the resort. One of the chalet girls has had to go home, and he needs to replace her fast. He owes me a favour, so I called it in. I asked if he would hire you for the job.”

  My mouth drops open. “That’s the work you were talking about? But…”

  Richard holds his hand up. “Don’t rule it out just yet, let me tell you about it first.”

  “I can’t possibly go. You heard what I said about mum. Besides, Christmas is three weeks away. You know what happened to mum last year,” I say shaking my head. I glance at the brochure again wishing, not for the first time, that I had a mother who isn’t a deadbeat drunk. I am tired of the role-reversal.

  “Hear me out, Louisa. That’s all I ask.”

  “Fine,” I say, but I know I won’t take the job. Every Christmas mum loses her shit. Last year was by far the worst. She’d gone on a bender for a week and was taken to A&E after some little old lady found her unconscious at the local park covered in cuts and bruises. The police thought that she had drunk too much and had passed out, knocking her head. But I saw the marks on her skin and I knew that more had happened to her. It was the only time I thanked God that she was a drunk, at least she wouldn’t have remembered anything.

  “The job starts next week and will run through to the new year, longer if you want to stay until the end of the season. Flights are covered and you will stay the whole duration in the chalet your guests will be holidaying in. You will need to provide breakfast and dinner for your guests, tidy their rooms, that kind of stuff. But between the hours of 10:30 am and 5:00 pm you’re free to do as you please. Most other staff spend their time skiing. Once the evening meal is finished and you’ve tidied up, the rest of the night is your own. What do you say, Louisa?”

  I look from Richard’s eager face to the brochure and back again. It sounds so wonderful. The thought of spending a whole month away from my mum and her shitty ‘boyfriends’ is so tempting. I’ve never been abroad before let alone out of London, so the thought of living in a beautiful wooden chalet nestled in the hills of some snowy mountain is like a dream come true. Yet, I push the brochure back to Richard.

  “You know I can’t,” I say.

  “Louisa…” Richard starts, just as my phone begins to ring. I look at the screen, it’s mum. I swipe across and press my ear to the phone.

  “Where the bloody hell are you? Dom and I have been waiting for fucking ages. Bring us the damn drink you useless, good for nothing piece of sh...”

  I don’t bother to listen to the rest of the call. Instead, I hang up and grab the brochure from Richard who is about to put it back in his bag.

  “What time’s the flight?” I ask.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Here are your tickets. Bastien has arranged for one of the other chalet girls to pick you up from Grenoble airport when you land. Her name is Shawna, I believe,” Richard says, handing me the documents I need to get on the plane.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, not able to express my true gratitude. To be honest, I am completely overwhelmed. The last few days have been a whirlwind of packing and making arrangements for my trip away. At first, when I told mum of my plans she had been adamant that I shouldn’t go, that I was being a selfish brat but when I explained how much money I would earn to send home to her she soon gave me her blessing. Frankly, I don’t care what she uses the money for. I just need to get away if only for a short while.

  “You are doing the right thing, Louisa. It’s about time you think of yourself. I will pop in on your mum from time to time, okay. Don’t worry about what happens here.” Richard pulls me in for a quick hug before planting a kiss on my head. Overhead the tannoy sounds and my flight is called.

  “Thanks for everything, Richard,” I say, a lump forming in my throat.

  “You are very welcome. Now go on, go. Have fun, Louisa.”

  “I’ll call in a few days to see how things are.”

  “I look forward to it,” Richard says, before walking away.

  I watch him leave through the sliding glass doors then pick up my handbag and luggage and make my way towards check-in feeling equally excited and anxious. When I finally get to the front of the queue a British Airways attendant flashes me a beautiful smile. She is young, probably my age, and very pretty with dark hair, brown eyes and long dark lashes.

  “Are you checking in on your own?” she asks.

  “Yes. I’m going to be a chalet-girl,” I blurt out.

  “That sounds great, I always fancied a job like that with all those hu
nky ski-instructors. How romantic, all that snow outside, and warm, open fires inside,” she says sighing dramatically.

  “Oh, I hadn’t really thought about that. I’m just happy to be getting on an aeroplane for the first time.” It is true, I haven’t thought beyond the flight. If I am totally honest, I am a little nervous, it being my first time flying. It didn’t help that just before I left my mother decided to fill me in on all the plane crashes that had happened over the years.

  “Is that so,” the attendant says, considering me for a moment. “Well, it just so happens to be your lucky day. You’ve just been upgraded to business class.”

  I look at her incredulously. “Wait, what? Oh, no it’s okay. I don’t have any money for that.”

  She grins. “Don’t worry, it’s a complimentary upgrade. Enjoy your first flight on a plane,” she says as she sticks a label on my luggage. “You can go through to the departures lounge now.”

  “Thank you,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “That’s quite alright, Miss Budd. Have fun with the ski instructors and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winks, handing me back my passport.

  A few minutes later I am through the security check and heading towards Costa in the departures lounge. There is a separate sign showing the way to the business class area, but I don’t bother following it. Instead, I make myself comfortable with my latte, muffin and Cosmopolitan magazine and before long it’s time to board.

  “Welcome on board. Your seat is through here and to the right,” the air stewardess says politely.

  “Thanks.” I take my ticket from her and search for my seats. Business class is separated by a curtain partition and I can see that the seats in this section of the plane are roomier than the standard ones. I have a window seat rather than an aisle, and I’m glad because I can’t wait to look out of the window to view the scenery. After storing my coat and handbag in the overhead compartment, I take a seat.

  “Jesus, Max, can you not give it a rest for one minute?”

  I look up to see a ridiculously handsome man with short dark brown hair and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen stop at the end of the row I’m sitting in. He’s talking to a blonde-haired guy who is taking a seat in the row opposite.

  “Never, man. Why would I? You saw the way she looked at me. Looks like I’ll be joining the mile-high club today,” blondie says, chuckling.

  “Leave him alone, Hudson,” another guy says as he smacks green-eyes on the back. He’s a huge beast of a man and all the more attractive for it. “You’re only pissed because you didn’t get in there first.”

  “As if, Bryce,” green-eyes snorts. “As the eldest, you know as well as I do that I always get first dibs on the ladies. She just wasn’t my type.” He turns his back on the laughing men and opens the overhead locker. Realising it’s full, he opens the next one along and stashes his holdall away. I watch him as he removes his thick, cable-knit sweater revealing a glimpse of defined stomach muscles covered in a smattering of dark hair. I look away quickly, not wishing to be caught ogling him.

  Now that green-eyes is no longer blocking my view, I can get a good look at the other men he boarded with. They don’t look much like brothers to me, but I guess just because you share blood it doesn’t mean you have to be the image of each other. The man-mountain is taller than green-eyes, the other, blondie, slightly shorter. They both have the same tanned skin like they’ve all been on a year-long holiday. Blondie, the one I think they called Max, has dark brown eyes and well-styled hair, long on top and cropped at the sides, whilst the man-mountain has dark black hair pulled back in a bun and is sporting a well-groomed beard. His eyes are hazel. Mountain-man catches me staring and gives me a wink, a sexy smile lingering on his lips.

  I look down at my magazine, pretending to read, thankful that my long hair can shield my embarrassment. A moment later, green-eyes takes a seat next to me. He coughs and I look up.

  “You might want to do that up,” he says, pointing to my lap.

  I look down expecting to see my flies undone then frown when I don’t understand what he’s talking about. “Sorry?” I say.

  He gives me a questioning look, then leans over grabbing a seat-belt that I hadn’t noticed until that moment. I press my back into the chair, shocked by his sudden nearness. He smells of expensive aftershave and danger.

  “There,” he says clicking it together. “You’re all strapped in and ready for take-off.”

  “You could have just told me,” I snap, pissed that he thinks he can just get into my personal space like that. I don’t know why I react that way. It’s not often you get an attractive man strapping you into a seat, but something about his presumptuousness pisses me off.

  He looks at me, eyebrows knotting together as if he didn’t expect that response. Then he shakes himself and holds out his hand. “My name’s Hudson. Those two imbeciles over there are my younger brothers Max and Bryce,” he says pointing at them both. I glance over and they are both grinning inanely at us. “Ignore them, they have huge egos. They think they’re God’s gift to women.”

  “And you? Do you think you’re God’s gift to women?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  Hudson looks at me, the easy smile dropping from his face, replaced instead with something far sexier. “You tell me,” he says.

  I look at him, at his ridiculously handsome face and suddenly have the urge to knock him down a peg or two. He is way too cocky for my liking. “I think you and your brothers are very alike. Big egos appear to run in your family, no?”

  Hudson’s eyes widen as his brothers laugh loudly. I smile inwardly, feeling I handled that situation pretty well considering.

  For the rest of the flight, Hudson doesn’t bother talking to me again. Instead, he chooses to spend the entire time chatting up another air-stewardess. Frankly, I don’t give two shits. After I get off this flight, I won’t be seeing either Hudson or his brothers again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Hey, you must be Louisa. I’m Shawna, pleased to meet you.” A tall girl, about my age, with long brown hair and eyes speckled green and brown, holds out her hand to greet me. I go to shake it but she pulls me into a hug. “Don’t be silly, we’re not that formal here,” she says laughing. “Now, where’s your bag? Let’s dump it in the car and get going.”

  I watch as she pinches her finger and thumb together, puts them in her mouth and whistles. A minute later a black 4x4 pulls up and a man with bronzed skin and white blonde hair gets out. He looks like he should be surfing on a beach, not here in the below freezing weather of the French Alps.

  “This is Pierre, he’s my boyfriend,” Shawna says. She passes him my bag and whispers in my ear. “He’s a dream in bed. Like, super sexy.”

  “Bonjour, c’est un plaiser de vous recontre. Bienvenue a francais. Je suis votre chauffeur,” Pierre says, as he puts my suitcase in the boot of the car. I look at Shawna and grimace.

  “I have no idea what he just said.”

  Shawna laughs. “Nope, me either, but isn’t it just so damn hot!” She leans in a gives Pierre a passionate kiss. I look away and take in the scenery about me. The air is crisp, cold, and my breath comes out in smoky puffs. Although the roads are clear, the sidings and rooftops of the nearby buildings are covered in a thick layer of powdery snow. The sky itself is grey and full of heavy billowing clouds. In the distance, I can see the white peaks of mountains and wonder whether that’s where we are heading.

  “We’re due to get some snow later today, so we’d better get a move on if we don’t want to get stuck in it. Pierre’s a great ski instructor but, driving, not so much,” Shawna says pulling a face.

  “How long will it take to get to the resort?” I ask as I slide into the back of the car. Shawna climbs in next to me whilst Pierre starts the engine.

  “An hour or so with Pierre’s driving. He’s a bit of a speed freak. Plus, he wants to get back for après-ski.”

  “What’s après-ski?” I ask, clicking my sea
t belt in. For a second I am reminded of green-eyes, and how he took it upon himself to strap me in on the plane. Now that I think about it, his behaviour was really bloody cocky. He’s the type of bloke who always has a stream of lovers at his beck and call, and entirely the kind of man I avoid like the plague. Thank fuck he and his brothers went on their merry way somewhere else. Pushing thoughts of the three brothers aside, I turn to Shawna waiting for her answer.

  “You don’t know what après-ski is?” Shawna’s mouth drops open, and she gives me a ‘you’ve got to be kidding look’. “It is only the best part of the day. All the instructors, chalet girls, locals, holidaymakers, we all get together and basically party the night away. You must come, I can introduce you to everyone. It’ll be a blast!”

  I look at Shawna warily. “Don’t I have to get the chalet ready for the family that’s staying? I mean, I don’t want to mess up on my first night here.”

  Pierre pulls out into the traffic making a sharp turn onto the connecting motorway.

  “Oh, didn’t I say? Your family isn’t arriving until late tomorrow night. Apparently, they’re stopping off in the city before heading to the resort. So, you’re free!” she sings.

  I laugh, her enthusiasm is catching. To be honest, I am not much of a drinker; mum has put me off booze for life, but just the one drink couldn’t hurt. “Alright then, just for a bit,” I say.

  “Awesome!”

  For the rest of the drive, I sit and listen to Shawna chatter on about life at the resort. She arrived a month ago, had met Pierre the first week and, apparently, they have been inseparable ever since.

  “I mean, he’s just the most amazing lover, Louisa, huge co-” Shawna spreads her hands wide, pulling a face. I can’t help but giggle.

  “When I first saw it I was like, what am I supposed to do with that? Though it didn’t take me long to get used to it!”