by Nell Harding
“That’s better,” he said approvingly. “Now just hold tight. Is everybody ready? Headlamps on?”
There was a hearty response from the others who were taking their positions along the road, and then they were off in a spray of snow and excited shrieks along the silvery trail.
The luges picked up surprising speed on the hard-groomed track. Kate let out an adrenaline-fueled squeal and buried her head in the back of Sebastien’s coat as the snow flew up from the boots of the couple on the sleigh next to them who were trying to steer.
The feel of his strong back beneath the jacket, and the intimacy of wrapping her arms around his chest were intoxicating. Somehow she felt both incredibly safe with him in front of her and at the same time she knew she was on the edge of something more dangerous than the hard snow flying by underneath them.
“Stay on the road you son of a – aaaaaahhh!” she heard Simon yell, followed by a muffled thump.
Sebastien laughed out loud. He was locked into a playful battle against the couple beside them, each trying to force the other off the track. They were picking up speed as they approached a bend in the road, and Kate instinctively threw her hands back to drag them in the snow in an attempt to slow down.
Without disengaging from his struggle with the neighbouring sleigh, Sebastien reached back and pulled her hands forward again to their original position on his chest. He pulled her close and gave her hands a quick squeeze before concentrating on the curve.
Kate felt dizzy and breathless, not only from the headlong descent through the dark and the flying snow. The close contact with Sebastien heightened her senses again, and she could feel her own heartbeat pounding against his back as well as the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Was he aware of her body pressed against his? He was so caught up in the luging that she couldn’t tell if he was also savouring the physical contact or if it was simply part of the sport.
By dragging his inside foot and leaning, Sebastien managed to keep the luge on the road as they careened around the corner. The rival sled had less luck and toppled off into the soft snow on the bank and she could hear Jim and Susan shuddering comically as they shook snow out from their jackets.
The faint beam of a headlamp reflecting off the snow ahead revealed their next challenge, and Sebastien pulled Kate closer as he leaned forward and yelled something about catching them up.
At that moment, a wild cry announced the sudden arrival of Simon, who had cut the corner to land heavily on the track, his sled lurching crazily in front of theirs as he tried to regain control. Sebastien swore softly and leaned hard to the outside to pass him, but the far runner caught in the softer snow beside the road and the luge toppled them together in a tangled, snowy heap.
It was like falling on pillows, a softly cushioned landing despite their speed. Kate’s legs were still wrapped around Sebastien’s waist and he was laughing too hard to push himself back up effectively in the deep snow.
Kate made one feeble attempt to untangle herself, but her arms simply sank in the soft powder and she gave up trying and let herself sink back into the snow, gazing up at the starry night sky with a dreamy smile.
For a brief moment Sebastien also gave up the struggle and leaned his head back against her chest. Rather than feeling awkward, the gesture felt completely natural, as if the two of them were used to such intimate contact. Kate had to resist the temptation to take off her mittens and brush the snow from Sebastien’s woollen hat.
As if reading her mind, he twisted his head to look at her. Their eyes met, close enough for Kate to see his breath condensing in the cold night air. Their headlamps pointed at crazy angles into the night, but there was enough reflected moonlight on the snow for Kate to see the laughter in his brown eyes slowly changing to hunger in a deep, searching gaze.
Breath and strength seemed to escape her body, leaving her helpless before those dark eyes that bored into her, swallowing her. She heard his own breath catching raggedly in his throat. Somehow he managed to turn further until he was propped on one elbow, looking down at the tangle of curls spilling across the snow, framing her moonlit face as she looked up at him with wide eyes.
Bits of snow from his hat dropped down onto her cheek. Ever so gently he brushed it away with a gloved hand, his fingers lingering to trace her cheekbones and the curve of her nose down to her wide, full lips. Slowly he brought his face closer, his eyes locked to hers as her lips parted of their own volition.
Time stopped for a moment. Kate saw nothing but the handsome face hovering above hers and felt a wave of heat flooding her senses.
His lips brushed against hers in the lightest of touches, testing, tasting. Then his mouth was against hers possessively, claiming her lips, her tongue. The rush of desire that flooded her made her reach for his head, pulling him closer as she responded hungrily. He rolled onto her, the snow underneath absorbing their weight like a feather mattress as their kiss deepened.
All of Kate’s inhibitions were swept away in that kiss. No thoughts crossed her mind, no wondering about consequences, simply a surrendering of all of her defences. She let herself go with the same headlong abandon she had felt when she boarded the plane to Switzerland, as if she were jumping into something new with both feet and ready to be swept away.
Just then a spray of snow and a terrified scream interrupted their embrace and Nick and Carol landed at high velocity beside them. Sebastien gave a frustrated groan and pushed himself up, fixing Kate with one more wolfish regard before sighing and turning to the others with a rueful grin.
“Help, we’re drowning in snow!” Carol was squealing as she flailed as ineffectively as Kate had done.
Sebastien helped to pull her to her feet and soon the two luges were back on the road, ready to continue the descent.
Kate lay in the snow a moment longer, trying to collect her senses. She was dizzy and breathless, still longing for Sebastien’s touch while at the same time wondering what this meant for him. Was she just another plaything for a playboy? Or had he invited her tonight because he had been feeling the same attraction she had from the start?
For herself, there were no doubts left. She was drawn to this man in a way that she had never felt before. It was deeper than his devastatingly good looks. Underneath his guarded manner, she saw a warmth and soulfulness that pulled her like a moth to a flame.
“No time for dreaming, the game is afoot,” Sebastien called, breaking into her thoughts as he reached strong arms down to haul her to her feet. “There will be time to dream later.”
He gave her hands another quick squeeze and then she found herself once again holding onto him as the sled hurtled off into the night. He seemed caught up in the competitiveness again, as if nothing explosive had just passed between them. Kate was outside of it all now, conscious only of the strong back she was leaning into, the heat of the body she was wrapping her legs around.
Somehow they made it to the bottom of the mountain in a blur of headlights, rushing snow, cold air and friendly challenges with passing sleds. At the trailhead the group slowly gathered together again, shaking snow out of mittens and boots and comparing tales. The mood was boisterous and happy, fuelled with adrenaline and laughter.
“I think this calls for a hot wine in the nearest pub,” Simon declared.
His suggestion was met with enthusiasm, and Kate’s heart sank. She enjoyed the company of these lively people, but she knew it would be torture to spend the rest of the evening chatting and being social when she was impatient to be alone with Sebastien again.
Just thinking of their kiss made her knees weak. She longed to pull him aside but he was playing the gracious host, attentive to his English guests and apparently unfazed by what had happened earlier. While he didn’t actually ignore her, he treated her like the other guests rather than like a woman he had kissed passionately less than an hour ago.
Pulling their sleds, he led the way down the snowy road toward the lights of the pub. Gritting her teeth, Kate followed, figh
ting to control her impatience.
They were nearly at the entrance when Simon fell. To leave room for the others on the sidewalk he had been walking on the road and had failed to notice a patch of glare ice lightly dusted in snow. He fell hard, throwing his arms out to steady himself. There was a horrible snapping sound and a howl of pain and Simon rolled over, clutching at his wrist and cursing.
Everyone stopped in shock and Sebastien and Carol rushed to his side. Sebastien carefully removed Simon’s mitten to reveal a rapidly-swelling and discoloured wrist.
“Looks broken,” Sebastien said grimly, holding his friend’s arm gingerly. “Let’s pack it with snow and try not to move it too much, but we have to get you off of this road.”
The two of them helped hoist Simon to his feet. He looked suddenly pale, but put a brave face on. “Excuse my language, ladies,” he said gallantly. “But it hurts like a son of a bitch. In best British tradition I think I will have to excuse myself and ask the rest of you to go on without me.”
“While we leave you here to freeze to death quietly on your own, is that it?” Sebastien asked dryly. “I think this puts us both out for the evening. I’m taking you down to Martigny to have this x-rayed.”
Kate and Nick had been busy collecting snow in a woollen hat, which they now packed around Simon’s wrist, holding it in place with a loosely-tied scarf.
“How ironic,” he bemoaned, looking at his companions. “I survive an out-of-control descent in the dark unscratched – and I must point out, victoriously – only to break myself walking down a road. It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“That you claim victory?” Sebastien asked with a light laugh, trying to hide his concern. “No, it doesn’t. You used dirty tactics. Now wait here with the others while I fetch the car.”
“You might as well sit down and wait in the warmth of the pub,” suggested Nick, holding Simon’s good elbow firmly to guide him along the sidewalk.
“Yes, no point in you all dying of thirst because of me,” Simon agreed dryly. “Come on then, never let it be said that I stood in the way of a night on the town or a warming round of drinks.”
“Should I come with you?” Kate asked softly as Sebastien searched for his car keys.
He shook his head with an apologetic smile, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to call on your hostessing skills after all, Michelle,” he said, looking into her eyes searchingly before raising his voice to bid the group goodnight. “You are all in Michelle’s tender cares for the evening,” he announced. “We could be gone quite some time.”
“Put it all on Seb’s tab!” Simon yelled as Sebastien hurried away.
“You couldn’t have broken a vocal cord instead?” Nick grumbled in a loud aside. “Anyway, mate, I think you’ve managed to put a damper on tonight’s festivities.”
Kate only half-listened to the friendly banter as they entered the busy pub. The warmth was welcoming after the biting cold of the winter’s night and the bustle and noise were cheery. With his friends surrounding him to keep him safe from being jostled, they made their way to a table that Mike had managed to clear for them.
Kate sat down with the others as Mike now barged his way through the crowd to order a round, refusing her offer to host a round in Sebastien’s name. She sank gratefully into the corner and let the English friends run the show, barely managing to follow the conversation enough to throw in a polite comment here and there. Her sympathy for Simon was kept in check by his cheerful stoicism, but she could do nothing about her selfish dismay at realising that her date with Sebastien was over.
Chapter Thirteen
Sebastien paced in the waiting lounge of the radiology department of the Martigny hospital. The roads had been almost empty at this hour, allowing him to drive here quickly, but registration had taken a while and now Simon had been in the x-ray room for another half-hour. Sebastien toyed with the empty paper coffee cup in his hand before finally throwing it in the garbage and forcing himself to sit down.
He needed to think. His nerves were on edge from Simon’s accident, from tiredness and caffeine. And from his kiss with Michelle.
He hadn’t intended to get physical with her tonight. Despite Stefan’s assurance that there was nothing inappropriate about asking her on a date outside of work hours, he wanted to get to know here gradually, to be sure that she wanted this as much as he did.
Well, this evening’s events seemed to have answered that doubt at least, he thought to himself, smiling at the memory. He caught himself grinning in the empty room and gave his head a shake to clear it. He was acting like a teenage boy after his first kiss.
He felt like a teenage boy after his first kiss, he realised with surprise. This wasn’t the passing whim of another pretty face, or even the obsessive infatuation he had felt with Genevieve. Michelle made him feel different, lighter, more open and ready to let go. With Genevieve, he felt he had lived in a tunnel, seeing only her. With Michelle, he felt the world open up around him and he was more alert and aware of everything and everyone.
The kiss wasn’t a mistake, he decided, despite his initial hesitation immediately after it had happened. It had been spontaneous and he had been surprised at the intensity of his feelings, taking refuge in the group banter to control his emotions.
With one kiss she had swept away his guard, exposing how much he wanted her. It was more than an attraction to her warm eyes and wide smile. He loved the way she approached everyone so naturally, her easy laugh and impetuous nature. With her there were no games, just a direct enjoyment of the present.
The beeping of an incoming message startled him and he fumbled in his pockets to find his phone. A broad smile stretched across his face and into his eyes as he read the text message from Michelle.
“One hundred percent survivorship on my watch. How about yours?”
He typed back, “All good, no dangerous distractions here.”
Unfortunately, he wanted to add. He tried not to think of how differently this evening might have ended. At least he felt confident about leaving the guests with Michelle, who would manage to keep spirits high despite Simon’s injury.
A tired-looking nurse appeared, holding a clipboard and fighting to stifle a yawn. “Monsieur Pichard?”
Sebastien rose to his feet. “How’s the patient?”
The nurse smiled wanly. “He can tell you that himself, if you’ll come this way.”
She led the way through to an inner room, where Simon was sitting with his arm propped on a pillow. A large x-ray image was lying on the table in front of him. He grinned tiredly as Sebastien approached.
“You know I always like to be the centre of attention,” he said with an attempt at a laugh.
“Well, you did a good job of it tonight,” Sebastien responded wearily. “How are you feeling?”
“Apart from foolish, you mean? Probably as tired as you look.” He gave his eyes an exhausted rub. “And yes, it hurts, but they’ve slipped me something against the pain.”
Sebastien picked up the x-ray and squinted as he held it against the light. “Ouch. That looks bad, even to a layman,” he muttered, jabbing at a visible fracture with his finger. The lower end of the radius was snapped in half, with a slight off-set between the broken ends. “Which probably means they need to reset it tonight, or they’d have released you already.”
Simon sighed. “That’s right. They have to realign the bones, it seems.”
His friend grimaced. “How long of an operation is that?”
Simon shrugged. “If all goes well, I’ll be out in a few hours. But they don’t want me to fly for the next few days either, so looks like I’ll be your guest for a little longer. Just like old times.”
“You managing to get hurt? Yes, that’s just like old times,” Sebastien said, cuffing his old school chum on his good shoulder in a friendly way. “And you know you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. In fact, Nick and Carol are staying on as well so you’ll have company, but
I’ll be down in the Geneva apartment.”
“It’s not as if I could be out snowboarding,” Simon reminded him, pointing at his swollen wrist.
The nurse reappeared, looking to be in a no-nonsense mood. “Right then, let’s get you ready for the doctor. Monsieur Pichard, you can wait outside.”
“Go on home, mate!” Simon called as he was wheeled away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Mais non,” Sebastien called back softly. “I’m not going to leave you here alone. The poor nursing staff would have too hard a time of it.”
Alone he wandered back to the empty waiting room. There were no new messages from Michelle, which he told himself was a good thing, a sign that everything was going well. He tried not to acknowledge the slight disappointment he felt.
Outside, the church clock-tower rang once. He glanced out the window at the streetlights and passing cars below, the lights and noise reminding him that he was far from Verbier. An involuntary sigh escaped his lips as he thought of the cosiness of the chalet and of curling up in his own snug bed.
With Michelle? His tired mind couldn’t help wondering and trying to imagine how the night might have continued. A tantalising fantasy of the continuation of that kiss danced in his imagination and he tried to ward off images of her pale skin, naked under her cascading red curls.
He quickly picked up a magazine that was lying on the coffee table and started reading an article at random, trying to prevent his hormones from betraying him. To his surprise he had stumbled on an interesting article about helicopter rescues in the Alps which might just rescue him from embarrassment.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the story before stretching out on the waiting room sofa. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Fourteen
Sleds are the ultimate equaliser. Children can keep up with adults, while adults play like children. Unlike skiing or snowboarding, where differences in experience and skill levels divide a group, the complete novice or the hardened veteran of the slopes have the same level of control. That is to say, very little.
