Fire and Ice (3 page)

For a terrible instant she thought
he was going to ask to see some sort of proof of identification. Then he seemed
to come to a decision and turned abruptly toward the living room.   

“I will just give you a cursory
tour of the chalet and then leave you to make yourself at home.” he said over
his shoulder as he led the way. “I still have some business to take care of
today, but you will have a week to familiarise yourself with everything before
your services are needed.”

“What a beautiful living room!”
Kate gushed, and then caught herself. If this was a test of her discretion and
professionalism, she had already failed.

Again the thick eyebrows rose
slightly. “I’m sure you’ve seen much more grandiose chalets in your previous engagements,”
he said in an off-hand manner, looking to her for a reaction.

Kate froze and felt her colour
begin to rise again. “I...I am not at liberty to discuss my previous employers,”
she stammered, feeling flustered.

For the first time Sebastien
seemed pleased with her response, giving a cursory nod. “I’m glad to hear that.
I’m sure that you are aware that we had a delicate situation last year because
of indiscretion. We have many guests, business associates and occasionally
various sorts of artists who don’t need the press following them around.”

Kate felt a slight glimmer of hope
and confidence return. The discretion clause might save her new role yet. She
had no idea what she should or should not have heard, so she tried to keep her
tone neutral. “Discretion is at the heart of this profession.”

Again she saw an unreadable
expression flicker across his face and wondered if she was going a bit over the
top. She was uncomfortably aware of the way he was watching her.

  “This set-up is inherently
imbalanced,” he said casually, leading her across the room to show the wide
balcony that ran across the entire front of the chalet. “You know a lot more
about my family and about me than I do about you. Tell me a bit about yourself,
starting with that intriguing accent.  Where are you from? “

“Where would you guess?” she replied,
desperately trying to stall. She would have to do some research on this
Michelle character in case he knew a bit about her.

The eyebrows arched again. Perhaps
that was an unprofessional answer. She hastily tried to correct herself, still
trying to avoid straight answers. “My accent’s a bit mixed from living in
various places,” she ventured, wondering where she was supposed to have worked.
“ But what you’re probably noticing is a hint of the Irish in me.”

His dark eyes locked on hers. “Michelle
is an unusual name for an Irish woman, no?”

Was it polite conversation or the
Spanish Inquisition? “But so much easier to spell than Ciobhan!” she laughed a
little wildly, feeling her nerves starting to fray. “My father was a huge
Beatles fan and loved the song, “Michelle, Ma Belle…”Out of desperation, she found
herself singing a few lines before a glance from those dark eyes shut her up
immediately.

“In any case, you are evidently
not a native French-speaker,” he said icily.

“Good thing almost everyone in Verbier
speaks English, then isn’t it?” Kate shot back defensively, regretting it
instantly. “So does the tour end in this lovely living room or will I be permitted
to see the kitchen at least?” she continued hurriedly, hoping to steer the
conversation away from her uncalled-for singing and her level of French.

She cringed and kicked herself
inwardly. Either he knew that she was an imposter or he must think she was a
babbling, incompetent fool. She wasn’t sure which was worse. In any case, she
clearly wasn’t a discrete professional when it came to speaking. She would have
to learn simply to shut up.

Sebastien finally turned his
searching eyes away and led the way to the central fireplace. He crouched down to
explain the functioning of the wood pellet stove. Relief swept over Kate in a
wave that made her want to sink into one of the comfortable sofas and collapse.
Instead she squatted beside him, trying not to be distracted by the closeness
of his strong body and a sudden urge to run her fingers through his unkempt
hair. But she forced herself to pay attention to the details. If she couldn’t
impress him with her polished social skills, she could at least start with the
basics such as not burning the chalet to the ground.

 Sebastien became brisk and
efficient as he continued the tour of the chalet.  He showed her around the
extensive modern kitchen and a bright study before leading her upstairs to show
her a series of large bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and balcony. He kept
conversation to a minimum and Kate replied in monosyllables, making an effort
not to gape too openly at the luxurious rooms.

“Your room is on the bottom
floor,” he informed her after explaining how the shutters were to be fastened.
“This should give you a bit of space for yourself when the chalet is full.” 

He brought her back down to the
main floor, where a flight of stairs near the side door led down to a walk-out basement
opening onto the slopes of the front lawn. Half of the space was taken up by a
spacious games room with a billiard table, with the rest divided between a ski
room, a laundry and a comfortable bedroom and bathroom. A box of Lindt
chocolates had been laid out on top of several clean towels on the bedroom
desk.

“That would be the work of
Chantal, the cleaning woman,” Sebastien told her, as if he needed to make sure
that she didn’t think the little welcoming touches came from him. “She comes in
on Thursdays to do the housekeeping and deal with bedding and with preparing
the rooms for guests. She can help you if you need anything to make yourself
comfortable here.”

Kate looked around her new room
with delight. After her dingy bedsit in North London it seemed huge.

Sebastien handed her a mobile
phone, bringing the tour officially to a close. “I will call on Wednesday
evenings to let you know how many people will come up on the Friday and if
there is anything special to pick up or arrange. Here is a debit card for
anything I may ask you to buy or for any expenses regarding the chalet. There
is a computer in the study which you may use for internet access. Any
questions?”

The obvious question of what she
was actually supposed to do seemed inappropriate. She decided to save all
questions for the cleaning woman and to keep this meeting as short as possible.
“No, I think you’ve shown me the essentials.”

He seemed as keen as she was to
end this encounter. He looked at his watch and headed for the door. “In that
case, please make yourself at home.” He handed her a set of keys, nodded
briefly and was gone.

Kate stood motionless in the middle
of the room, keys in hand, until she heard his footsteps going up the stairs.
Then she let out her breath in a mix of relief, elation and shattered nerves.
At least she didn’t seem to be fired yet and she had a beautiful chalet to
herself for a week.  

She waited to hear the front door
close before venturing up to the main floor. She peered through the window to
watch the headlights reversing down the driveway and then ran to the living
room where she slapped her heels against the wooden floor singing “I Can Do
That” before collapsing on the sofa. This winter was going to be interesting,
if she survived it.

Sebastien finished his third
business call and pulled off his headset. The snowstorm reached right to the
valley floor, slowing traffic on the motorway all the way to Geneva. He still
had at least half an hour of driving ahead before he reached home.

Half an hour to sort out his thoughts.

He had been completely thrown
off-balance by the unexpected meeting. Although her wild curls had been clipped
in a tidy knot behind her head, there was no mistaking the woman he’d seen
dancing in the snow. Up close, her wide-set green eyes were more expressive
than he’d imagined and her lips were fuller, more sensual, above a pointed chin.

Her effect on his emotions had
been instantaneous. And his body had responded, every fibre straining to pull
her to him, to make physical contact with this alluring creature.

After all the stories from last
year, he had expected the agency to send somebody matronly, not a winsome
twenty-something. He was glad that Stefan hadn’t been the one to meet her. The
idea flooded him with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify but didn’t like.

As it was, he felt unsettled by
the idea of having Michelle living in the chalet. Just knowing that she was
there was enough of a distraction to leave him ill at ease in his own home. The
air in the chalet had been charged tonight with a tension that put all his
senses on edge. 

 This evening he had fled the
chalet as quickly as possible simply to have space to gather his thoughts. It
was ridiculous behaviour for somebody who had lived with chalet girls in the
house for as long as he could remember. But it was hard to focus in her
presence.

He hadn’t felt his emotions thrown
off balance like this since Genevieve. The realisation made him grip the
steering wheel tightly. He was not going to lose control like that again. He
had learned that his usually sound judgement could be swept away by a pretty
face and he was not going to let that happen here.

Not that Michelle was anything
like Genevieve, he reflected. His ex-wife had been dazzling and aloof,
contained. Michelle seemed to be the opposite, impulsive, emotional and very
real. She had obviously been nervous at the meeting, giving her a quirky charm
which made him smile when he remembered it.

The car in front of him suddenly
fishtailed and he switched on his hazard lights and slowed down, swearing under
his breath. That was what he had to do, just keep control of his emotions and
stay focused on his job. He had no time for anything else anyway, especially
not a scandalous affair with an employee.

In spite of himself, he grinned.
At least he wasn’t dreading his weekends now. It would be an interesting
winter.

Chapter Three

 “Who were you expecting to meet?
Guipetto?” Mimi asked laughingly as she draped her long legs over the arms of a
comfortable chair.

Kate considered for a moment. “I
actually think I did,” she admitted sheepishly. “An elderly man with spectacles
half-way down his nose. You know, a watch-maker. In any case not a virile
hottie.”

It was Thursday night. Emily had come
by the chalet after an afternoon spent helping Kate find the little things she
needed to prepare for the weekend and showing her the shops. Now they were
performing a post-mortem on the first meeting yet again.

 “Well, I don’t know what you’re
complaining about.” Mimi stretched her feet towards the fire. “A luxury chalet
and a choice bit of eye candy. You wouldn’t catch many women upset because they
had to work for Stefan Pichard.”

“Stefan?” Kate repeated, her
eyebrows furrowing in a frown. “He said his name was Sebastien.”

Mimi sat up abruptly, rubbing her
hands together with relish. “Ah, some gossip for the mill. You got to meet the
elusive Sebastien, eh? Maybe they’re going to keep Stefan out of the scene for
a while until the scandal is forgotten about. Interesting.”

Kate shook her head. “How do you hear
about all these things?”

Mimi touched the side of her nose.
“Connections. Friends in high places. In low  places. In the local pub, in this
case.”

Kate padded across the floor to
refill her friend’s wine glass. “So tell me what you know about these guys
then.” She tried to make her voice sound disinterested. “I need to be a bit
more prepared this time.”

Emily wasn’t fooled. “You want a
picture of the Pichards? Or just the dark, brooding one?”

She ducked as a sofa cushion
winged her way. “Ok, let’s see. Stefan is the older one, smooth, blond,
outrageously good-looking and charming, a real playboy. He’s the one who had
the infamous fling with the Bollywood star. Sebastien is more of the diamond in
the rough type, also a hottie. Or so you may have noticed.”

Kate curled up with her wineglass
and gazed into the fire. Yes, she had noticed. Despite the activity and fun of
the past few days catching up with her friend and exploring Verbier, she had
caught herself frequently thinking about Sebastien. She could still feel the
intensity of those dark eyes and picture the handsome, rugged features. She
cringed in embarrassment when she thought of her awkwardness but she found
herself approaching the upcoming weekend with a mix of apprehension and
anticipation.

Emily snorted, bringing Kate back
to earth. “Once upon a time both guys were the considered contenders for the title
of catch of the century and they enjoyed the attention of many fair maidens,”
she continued in a fairy tale voice. “But then an evil witch disguised as a
stunning model stole Sebastien’s heart and a good chunk of his fortune in an
ugly divorce, leaving him broken-hearted and cold, swearing never to trust the
motives of women again, because they are all manipulative fortune-hunters.”

 Kate shook her head. “Now that’s
just prejudice. I wouldn’t be after his fortune, just his body.”

Mimi grinned approvingly. “Such
noble sentiments. You always were such a hopeless romantic. So you do admit
that you’re attracted to him.”

“It’s purely physical,” Kate
hastened to clarify. “His personality didn’t exactly exude warmth and charm. Au
contraire. I’ve met warmer ice cubes. He seemed either distracted or stressed
or just plain irritated by me. Then again, I wasn’t an example of wit and charm
myself.”