Free Fire and Ice by Nell Harding

her feel
slighted or rejected, acting as if he resisted her undeniably attractive
temptations with regret.
    She was certainly confident enough
of her own powers of attraction to accept this unquestioningly. However, she seemed
unused to failure in her attempts at conquest and there was a risk that she had
seen this as a challenge, the pleasure of the chase.
    The bitter cold bit through his
jacket as he stood still in front of the shop. Automatically he glanced at his
watch and set off again through the narrow pedestrian streets. The cobbles
reflected the cold, and the sun was too low in the sky to reach the street.
    It was unlike him to dawdle like
this. He liked to walk back to his office after these lengthy lunches, to ward
off the sleepiness that always followed. But normally he walked purposefully,
thinking about work problems, making phone calls or mentally answering emails.
Today his mind kept returning to Verbier.
    It was repeatedly being brought
home just why this was really his brother’s domain. Stefan loved the game, the
juggling, the hunt, like Axelle. They were both like cats, stalking a mouse
simply to play with it, testing their powers.  He would classify himself in the
dog family, a retriever looking for dependable, straight-forward affection with
no games. But without ending up in the doghouse either.
    He wasn’t sure that he had
succeeded in that respect with either woman. Again he thought of how much
better Stefan was at this whole balancing act.
     His brother was a natural,
actually enjoying the intrigue and diplomacy. Stefan was smooth, flattering women
and giving them the impression of undivided attention while still managing to
extricate himself gracefully from situations he didn’t want to be in.
    Although it struck him that Axelle
was not someone Stefan would have fought so hard to avoid. Perhaps his
brother’s skill was in getting out of his romantic escapades as smoothly as he
entered into them.
    Sebastien was different. Although
he had played the scene with his older brother when they were younger, at heart
he was more of a romantic. His entanglement with Genevieve was typical for him,
wanting a full relationship and not just a fling. Axelle, even Genevieve in the
end, was Stefan’s type of woman. 
    Michelle was his.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    Kate threw open the shutters in
the master bedroom.  Dust danced in the beam of sunlight that streamed in as
she gave the duvets a shake.
    It was the first time she had
opened this room since her arrival. Sebastien used what must have been his
childhood room, judging by the ski racing trophies on his shelf. This room was
bigger still, with a private balcony looking up behind the village toward the
slopes.
    This was the parents’ room. The
entire family was coming up this weekend for their clan Christmas fondue.
Sebastien had called while she was out and left a message on her answering
machine. His voice had been normal, brisk and businesslike.
    Kate was back in business mode as
well. She cringed with embarrassment when she thought of her reaction last
weekend, but the shame was enough to squash the flame she had felt for her
boss. There was no secret bond joining them as a team against outsiders. She
was the outsider and she had no idea what went on in his life in Geneva,
although Axelle’s visit was probably representative.
    A quick glance assured her that
Chantal’s room preparations were perfect, as always. Fresh flowers had been
left in a vase on the table and everything was spotless. It was curiosity that
prompted her to do this final inspection, but there were no personal photos or
clues to help her to imagine the Pichard clan.
    Despite her misgivings regarding
last weekend, she was looking forward to meeting the rest of the family. At
least there would be no guests to entertain, no need for her to interact too
much.
    Somehow Sebastien’s date last
weekend also helped ease the guilt she