The Lesbian Billionaires Seduction

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The Lesbian Billionaires Seduction Page 7

by K C Luck


  “I'll be waiting for you,” I say, not bothering to veil my meaning, and the twinkle in Lila's eyes is my reward.

  “Then, I shall hurry.”

  13

  “How did you meet?” I ask Claire as we stand together on the deck outside the lower lodge. This gives us a view of where Lila and Madison will come into sight. It cannot be soon enough as anxiety still tightens my chest. Hopefully, talking to Claire will distract me, but when she doesn’t answer immediately, I glance over. There is a hint of a blush on her cheeks. It could be from the chill wind but perhaps also passion behind it too. When her blue eyes finally meet mine, there is tenderness, but also a touch of humor in them.

  She smiles. “I hit her with my car,” she answers and then laughs. “And then she wouldn't leave me alone.” I chuckle and imagine how relentless Madison must be when she wants something. “But it was complicated, of course. Being who she is and some things in my past, but in the end, it worked out.” There is a pause as our eyes hold, then she smiles. “Our chemistry was simply undeniable.”

  I smile. “I picked up on that,” I say, and Claire laughs as we go back to waiting. While I do, I can’t help but think of the chemistry Lila and I have. It feels undeniable too. If only I can convince Lila to see me for who I am and not a love she once lost. It will take all my patience. Luckily, unlike Madison, that is one of my strengths.

  Suddenly, Claire points toward the slope. “I think I see them.” Blowing out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, I scan the hill. The trip was unnecessarily dangerous, considering the changing weather and falling twilight. A sudden thought comes to me, one I did not consider before, and I mentally kick myself. Lila is such a distraction there was no time to think someone might have been watching us. If Georgia DeLane has someone here, then there is certainly a chance the person could try to intercept Lila on the slope. Thankfully, the two appear to be back, and I can breathe.

  Yet, as I watch, I only see Madison's ice blue parka. There is no sign of Lila in her bright pink. Even in poor visibility, she should be easy to spot. A surge of adrenaline hits me. “Do you see Lila?” I ask Claire.

  After a beat, she shakes her head. “I don’t.”

  In an instant, I am leaping over the railing of the deck into the snowbank below. Slipping and sliding, I run toward Madison. “Where is Lila?” I yell to her as she continues in my direction. Cutting the skis to come to a quick stop, Madison lifts her goggles.

  “What do you mean? She was ahead of me the entire way. At least until the last second when I passed her.”

  It is all I can do not to grab the woman by the collar and shake her. “Why did you pass her?” I growl, fury clear in my voice. At this, Madison clenches her jaw, no doubt trying to check her own anger while we determine what’s happened.

  “We decided to race the last bit.”

  “Jesus, why am I not surprised?” I spit out turning my back on the billionaire. I need to talk to the ski patrol or someone in case the worst has happened. A gloved hand hits my sleeve.

  “I’ll go back up and run it again,” I hear Madison say behind me, her voice low and angry. “I’ll call down when I find her.” I whirl around and stand toe-to-toe with the woman. She is a couple inches shorter but does not step back. In fact, she drops the ski poles she is holding as if to fight me, but luckily doesn’t raise her fists. I don’t think I could have resisted knocking Madison on her ass. An easy prospect considering she is still in her skis. “Listen,” she continues in a hiss. “Lila is an excellent skier. Possibly better than me on most days. Racing her was not unusual.”

  “And she will show up any second,” Claire reassures me as she comes up beside us.

  Regardless, there is no way I will stand around and do nothing. I point at Claire. “You wait here for her.” Then, I realize my words were sharp, and Claire is not who I am angry with. “Sorry. If you don't mind, please wait and call if you see her. I'm going to go to report it.” Without bothering to wait for an answer, I jog to the lodge and find the dispatcher for the snow patrol. After a quick explanation, he sends a message to be on the lookout for a lost skier. The hint of concern on the dispatcher's face does not help my anxiety. The snow is coming harder now, and twilight is descending. Soon, there will be no more runs for the day. For a second, I wonder if Madison will be allowed to go, then think there is no way she will let them stop her. Even if she has to threaten to buy the resort and fire them all.

  Minutes tick by, and I try not to pace as my fear mounts. So many scenarios run through my head. An accident. A kidnapper. Jesus, maybe even something as extreme as an assassin. Finally, my phone buzzes, and I look to see Claire is calling. Thank God. Lila must be back. “Did she come down?”

  The pause on the phone makes my heart stop. “No,” Claire finally says. “Madison is back and didn’t see her.”

  “Fuck,” I say under my breath and turning to tell the dispatcher this latest news, I see him raising his hand to silence me.

  “Okay,” he says into the headset. “I will send up a team to bring her down.” Bring her down? My mind races. She clearly is injured. Or worse. He turns to me as if in slow motion, and my heart is beating so hard I barely hear his next sentence. “Looks like she’s broken her wrist in a crash, and the medical team is being dispatched.”

  Closing my eyes, I hate that she is hurt, but relieved she has not been kidnapped. All I can do is nod. Then, I hear Claire’s voice through my phone. We did not disconnect the call from a second ago. “What is happening, Jael?” she asks. I hear Madison in the background insisting she will go back up and look again. Claire's voice turns distant for a second.

  “Please don’t do that. It’s dangerous for you, too.”

  “Don’t let her,” I tell Claire. “They found Lila. She's still on the slope. Injured, so they are sending up a team.” I look at the dispatcher. “And I'm going with them.”

  “Now wait,” the dispatcher starts, and I shake my head at him.

  “Do you realize who we are talking about up there? My job is to see to her wellbeing.”

  At this, I watch as he stops to consider the situation. Lila is famous, even if everyone at the resort pretends not to notice thanks to the unspoken rules of privacy. There are many distinguished guests at this resort. Suddenly, I hear Claire's voice again. She is still on the phone and trying to get my attention. “Let them do their job.” Her words sink in, and I am conflicted. The need to rush to Lila's aid, to be at her side, is nearly overwhelming, but at last, I nod to the dispatcher.

  “I'd like a radio to keep me updated,” I ask, and once I am issued one, I return to the bottom of the slope to stand with Claire and Madison. Waiting is torture, yet hearing the team deploy and then find her helps. She was in the tree line near the bottom of the run. When it’s confirmed she is alert and able to move, my breathing at last slows to normal. Claire wraps an arm around me.

  “It will be all right,” she says, and I hear the relief in her voice, too. A glance at Madison shows the same, and when the medical team descends with Lila in a stretcher, she and I both rush to help.

  “I'm okay,” Lila reassures us the minute we reach her. “But my wrist feels horrible.”

  “She’ll need an x-ray,” the medical team leader says. “The nearest machine is down in the village. A small hospital, but well equipped for ski injuries like this.”

  “Please no,” Lila says and reaches her uninjured hand out to me. Taking it, I am reassured at the touch. Her grip is firm, and her eyes, although showing a hint of pain, are bright. They are also pleading with me. Furrowing my brow, the situation is complicated. If Lila is recognized at the hospital or in the village, word of her location will be out everywhere. Gritting my teeth in frustration, a glance at her splinted arm, already significantly swollen, makes up my mind. It needs an x-ray.

  With a sigh, I shake my head. “We can’t risk your injury becoming worse.” I glance at Madison, who nods and leans close to me so as not to be overheard by the medic
al team.

  “I’ll alert the club members. We will address any problems that could come up,” she says. “Assuming it is necessary. It's late, and this might be quick. Maybe we will get lucky.”

  “So, what are we doing?” the medical team leader asks from the other side of Lila. It is dark, and the snow is falling harder around us. Someone needs to make a decision.

  I look at Lila. “Just to be sure,” I say giving her hand a squeeze.

  With a sigh, she nods. “All right. Let’s go to the hospital.”

  14

  A sprain. Bad, but not broken. Sighing with relief, I am glad to finally get the news after the hours of waiting. Thankfully, the village hospital was extremely cooperative, particularly considering the patient. Although our plan was to keep Lila’s identity from the general public, the on-duty nurse and doctor had to know. Luckily, neither overreact, and I appreciate their professionalism. The delay was simply a matter of not being able to locate the x-ray technician to run the machine. Since we arrived at night, the young man was already long gone, apparently, to a movie with his phone set to silent. As unfortunate as the timing was, I know people have lives. Madison was not quite so patient, and it was touch and go as to whether she would call in a rescue helicopter or something to expedite the process. Watching Claire soothe her with a gentle hand to Madison’s cheek was a beautiful sight to behold. Their connection is nothing short of magical.

  When the technician did arrive and was brought into the loop, I thought he might die on the spot for making her wait. Lila, as always gracious and lovely, took his hand to put him at ease. “Let's just get this done, shall we?” she said, and this seemed to clear the technician's starstruck head, because things went smoothly afterward. As I stand in the waiting room letting the medical team finish final tasks, I look forward to going back to the resort. After a night of lovemaking, followed by a busy and stressful day, I am ready to rest. Maybe even accept a drink should it be offered. Madison joins me suddenly, phone in her hand, and the look on her face makes my wish for a chance to relax evaporate. She is clearly not happy. “What is the problem?” I ask seeing no reason not to get straight to the point.

  Madison leans in so her voice cannot be overheard. “We've been identified.” I immediately look around the room at the half a dozen other people waiting to be seen by the doctor. None appear to be paying us any attention.

  “How do you know?”

  She holds up the phone in her hand. “My friend Kris is on the phone. Let’s just say she’s a bit of a technology freak and caught wind of it on the Dark Web,” Madison explains.

  “You need to get out of there,” I hear a woman’s voice say from far away over the phone. “Now. And I heard the freak comment.”

  I like Kris instinctively. Anyone who can call out Madison, even in a crisis, is my kind of friend. “I'll go get Lila,” I say already moving. “I'll make sure we get back to the safety of the lodge as quickly as possible.”

  “Wait,” I heard Kris’ voice call out to me. “Madison, give her the phone.” She does, and suddenly I hear a woman with an American accent telling me the worst of all scenarios. “Social media is starting to buzz about you four being in the French Alps. And exactly where. The resort is compromised.”

  “Fuck,” is all I can think to say.

  “Precisely,” Kris agrees. “The hospital will soon be swarming with paparazzi too, so go find a place to hide. Where no one would look. Quickly.”

  My mind races as I think of and then quickly discard possibilities. Can we actually hide? It seems unlikely, yet my other options are not great either. Helicopter? Too slow getting here, especially in the dark. Drive out? Not with the new snow falling on the winding roads. Kris is right. We need to find a quiet place totally out of character. I know the doctor and nurse are with patients, so I can't ask them for recommendations. “Let me talk to the x-ray technician,” I tell Kris. “Hold on, I’m giving you back to Madison.”

  Before Madison even has the phone back to her ear, I am through the double doors leading to the clinical part of the hospital. Luckily, the technician is the first person I run into as he is donning his coat to leave. “I need your help,” I say holding up a hand to stop him. “People are looking for us. We need an out of the way place to stay for the night.”

  “Oh no. That’s horrible,” he says looking around as if people are getting ready to surround us immediately.

  “Focus, please. This is important.”

  He licks his lips. “Right! Let me think.” Taking a calming breath, I wait, already thinking I might have been wiser trying to intercept the doctor or nurse between patients. Finally, the technician nods. “I know just the place. It's pretty, um, old.”

  “Doesn’t matter. That will actually be better. Where?”

  “Edge of the village. There is an inn. The Monterie.” He points to the west. “It’s hardly up to her standards—”

  I don’t let him finish. It will do. It must. “Thank you. And please, don’t tell anyone.”

  “Of course,” he says to my back as I hurry away and find Madison with Claire, and thankfully now Lila, bandaged but ready. From the looks on their faces, Madison has apprised them of the situation. Quickly explaining the plan to go to a run-down inn, I lead the way out into the night.

  “Well, this will be an adventure,” Lila says with a smile as we climb into the car that I drove from the resort to the hospital.

  Claire laughs. “And I was getting so spoiled.” The look on Madison’s face lets me know she’s less excited than the other two, but it is what it is for tonight. Still, when we arrive, everyone is quiet for a beat. The tired thatched roof over cracked and faded whitewashed brick walls is as far from the nine-star resort as a location could get. Sagging shutters frame darkened windows. If the technician hadn’t assured me the place was open for business, I’d think the inn was abandoned.

  “Do you think it’s haunted?” Claire asks playfully.

  “Perhaps historical in the least,” Lila adds.

  “Well, no one will look here,” Madison murmurs.

  I open the car door and get out. “That’s the point,” I open the back door and hold a hand to Claire. “Claire, will you come with me? I’d rather not have our billionaires recognized again tonight.”

  Taking my gallant offering, Claire joins me. “Good thinking,” she says, and before Madison or Lila protest, we enter the lobby. Thankfully, the hunched over, old manager does have two rooms left. To me, it seems unlikely there are that many more guests tonight, but I let it go. Two bedrooms are fine. The transaction is seamless, the manager is happy to be paid in cash, and we get keys to “the best rooms in the inn.” Not convinced, Claire and I go to inspect them before getting the others.

  Claire finds hers first, and as she goes in, I hear her laugh. “Oh, this is perfect.” I peek in around her and see nothing but a small bed with a sagging middle, a water-stained nightstand with a dim lamp on it, a single, curtained window, and two more doors, one of which I hope leads to a bathroom.

  “Perfect?” I ask, not understanding.

  “Yes, so romantic.” Shaking my head at just how amazing Claire is to see past the shabbiness to find a quaint room in France, I decide to see it as she does. In fact, the thought Lila and I will be sharing such a small bed sends a tingle of arousal through me. It could be romantic indeed.

  Nodding, I go check the other room. It is equally “romantic,” and a preliminary check behind the extra doors confirms we do have a private bathroom. A small basin, commode, and an old clawfoot bathtub fill the space. It will do. A quick trip back to the car, and I whisk Lila and Madison inside undetected by even the manager. Seeing the room, Lila reacts much like Claire did, and I realize although the two women have distinctly different pasts, they are cut from similar cloth at heart. Perhaps that is why I find Claire so delightful.

  Once the door is closed, and we are alone, Lila sinks onto the edge of the narrow bed and sighs. She still wears her ski clothes, as
do I, and before I can help it, a selfish thought crosses my mind. We don’t have anything to sleep in. Then I mentally slap myself. She is injured, and our new boundaries are crystal clear. In fact, sleeping on the floor seems the best option for me. “I’ll call down to the front desk to request an extra pillow and blanket,” I say wanting to relieve Lila of any concerns as to where I will be sleeping.

  She studies my face for a moment. “And why are you doing that?”

  I swallow trying not to get lost in her blue eyes. “To sleep on the floor. Out of respect for our agreement.”

  “I see,” she says glancing away. For a moment, I think I see a touch of disappointment, but then her resolve rises to match mine. We will keep our hands off each other. Standing up, she sighs. “Well, I ache all over and need a hot bath desperately.” Trying to keep the image of her in the tub naked out of my head, I watch as she tries to unzip her jacket, only to be foiled by her injured wrist. In a step, I am beside her.

  “Let me,” I say taking the zipper without thinking. As I pull it, the sound causes a flutter low on my body. I grit my teeth and continue to help until the jacket is open. “Should I keep going?” I cannot keep the huskiness out of my voice.

  She looks into my face biting her bottom lip and making the desire to kiss her rage through my body. “I can’t do it myself,” she whispers, and I know then that this night of restraint will be long indeed.

  15

  Undressing Lila is the sweetest torture I have ever experienced. No woman excites me more or so quickly. She simply takes my breath away. When I slip the jacket off her shoulders, mindful of her injury and moving with such gentleness, she sighs. The turtleneck is next, and this is more challenging. The fabric is tight, accenting the curves of her breasts, and I grit my teeth to keep from moaning at the tight nipples pressing against the fabric. Clearly, she is turned on, too. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, my voice huskier than I intend, and she gives a little shake of her head.

 

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