Part 10 (2/2)

This wasn't actually true. Jayne had been waiting by this lift for over an hour hoping to track down Rich. She'd heard him plan his routes this morning and knew he was the type of man that stuck to his plan. She'd figured that she would see him, eventually, at La Frontaliere, the black run, if she was patient enough.

Jayne was very patient.

Rich didn't reply, but he moved his board an inch or so to the left, to acknowledge that he had to accommodate Jayne and allow her to join the queue. Jayne turned to the grumbling people she was pus.h.i.+ng in front of and made their holiday by flas.h.i.+ng one of her gorgeous smiles. The smile silenced the objections. Rich saw the guys behind him melt and couldn't help but grin to himself. He had to admit she was a stunner. Any red-blooded male would get the horn within ten metres of her, let alone if she pressed her dainty derriere into their crotch as she edged into the queue.

The lifts were getting busy as everyone tried to squeeze in a last run before the light was completely lost, so Jayne and Rich found themselves sharing the chairlift with someone else. The French guy was in his sixties and clearly a seasoned skier he didn't feel the need to make polite Franglais chitchat as the lift rose. Jayne and Rich were left to themselves.

'Isn't it darling?' sighed Jayne, waving her arm at the landscape, indicating, Rich supposed, that she was talking about the view. Rich scowled. n.o.body said 'Isn't it darling?' any more, not unless they were the princess in a Disney animated movie. Jayne was no princess.

'The snow has lain so thickly that the mountains look as though they are wearing tablecloths and the trees look as though they are dressed in paper doilies, a veritable tea party. Don't you think so?' Jayne turned to Rich, whom she wrongly a.s.sumed she was charming.

'I don't know what paper doilies are,' said Rich, turning his head to tighten the strap on his helmet.

'Darling, you do know. Snowflake-shaped bits of paper. Grandmas put them on plates of scones.' He looked at her blankly, so she gave up and simply muttered, 'It really is beautiful.' They stayed silent for some seconds before Jayne asked, 'So, how have you been?'

'Good,' replied Rich.

'You look good,' she smiled encouragingly, 'but then you always did.'

'Thanks,' replied Rich. Good manners and poor judgement forced him to add, 'You look good, too.'

'Thank you,' grinned Jayne, clearly delighted with the compliment, although she had heard several more verbose ones in just one afternoon as she'd hung around the lifts. Those gus.h.i.+ng compliments meant nothing: Rich's reluctant one meant everything. Jayne knew she looked fantastic. She'd mastered the mix-and-match earthy colour scheme favoured by boarders and was wearing blues and beiges. She'd instinctively known to avoid the top-to-toe pink-patterned numbers that ski bunnies chose, although she'd happily worn those in seasons of old. She preferred the s...o...b..ard outfit. That and because Rich boarded were her two reasons for choosing the sport.

'I've missed you,' she said, getting straight to the point. Rich moved a fraction away from her, although the tiny lift seat allowed little room for manoeuvre. He stared straight ahead, refusing to meet Jayne's eye. Jayne knew instantly that she'd overstepped the mark. She'd tried to move him on before he was ready for it, so she added, 'Natasha seems lovely.'

'She is,' confirmed Rich cautiously.

'You've done very well for yourself there.'

'Haven't I.'

'Who'd have thought it? Rich the old rogue settling down.'

Rich was determined not to be drawn, and so they fell silent again as the lift reached the pinnacle of the slope. They both expertly hopped off the chair and scooted to a safe distance away from the rotating seat. They fastened on their boards, and Jayne turned to Rich.

'And isn't Tash cool, the way she's so friendly towards me. Despite our past and everything?'

Rich froze. Jayne's radiant smile did nothing to melt him. In fact, it was her wide grin that sent s.h.i.+vers up and down his spine. After a long pause, he admitted, 'She doesn't know about you.'

'Doesn't know about me?' Jayne appeared shocked, but it was, of course, pretence. Before she'd w.a.n.gled an invite on to this trip she'd been pretty sure that Tash wouldn't know about her. After all, none of Rich's friends knew about their relations.h.i.+p. Jayne would have been more worried if Tash had known about her and Rich; it would have shown that Tash's trust in Rich was justified. That would have been the death knell for Jayne. But Tash's lunchtime conversation about Rich's s.e.xual partners had confirmed that, despite Tash's belief in Rich, he was not being 100 per cent honest with her. Tash knew about Mia, but not about Jayne. Jayne was delighted.

'No. She doesn't know about you,' sighed Rich. He'd feared this conversation from the moment Kate had cadged an invite for Jayne.

'You mean us,' said Jayne pointedly.

'There's no reason why she should,' insisted Rich. He was trying to sound calm and controlled, when in actual fact he was extremely nervous. He refused to look at Jayne. 'We were over an age ago.'

'Hardly, darling. I was still sucking your c.o.c.k this time last year.'

Rich breathed in quickly; the cold air whipped the back of his throat and silenced him. He'd always found that extraordinarily s.e.xy the way Jayne seemed so entirely proper, with her ancient lineage and smart received p.r.o.nunciation, and then the next moment she could be so filthy. Her statement was as coa.r.s.e as it was candid.

'It's interesting that Tash insists that the two of you have no secrets at all. She says that your entire relations.h.i.+p is based around respect and honesty. Aren't all relations.h.i.+ps?' Jayne was quoting Tash directly, and she was pretty sure that Rich would know that. She wanted to see him sweat. 'Odd, then, that she thinks she can name every one of your significant exs'

Rich tried to interrupt; he wanted to argue that Jayne wasn't significant. He'd found a loophole.

Jayne didn't allow him his moment, but carried on, ' and detail the circ.u.mstances of the most interesting seductions. I think you have to agree, I come under the category of the latter, if not the former.'

The loophole was closed.

'What's your game?' he asked.

'Game?' Jayne looked out at the beautiful vista, and shrugged. Rich grabbed Jayne by the arm and tried to get her to look at him.

'Don't play the innocent with me.' He'd tied her up in ropes once. They'd had a.n.a.l s.e.x. There was no point in her feigning innocence now. 'Why are you here?'

'Didn't my darling brother explain everything to you? Some b.a.s.t.a.r.d dumped me and I'm heartbroken. I'm here to recuperate.'

Jayne finally turned her beautiful brown eyes on Rich. He stared into them and tried to read her expression. It was hopeless. Jayne had perfected the art of deceiving him. In all the time she'd known him, she'd been very careful that whenever she looked at him she did not allow the love she felt to radiate out of her eyes. And now, she had no intention of showing him her desperation.

'What's that got to do with me? I didn't dump you,' insisted Rich.

'You f.u.c.king liar,' she snapped. 'You were in my life for over ten years, then nothing. I call that dumping.'

'But we haven't seen each other for months.'

'It seems like yesterday to me. Time hasn't moved.'

Rich felt a slow panic rise up his body. 'I'm with Tash,' he insisted anxiously.

'For now,' replied Jayne.

'For ever,' said Rich, but he wasn't sure whether Jayne heard because his words were swallowed as she pushed her lips on to his. He was too surprised to know how to react and remained stone still for a fraction longer than he would have done if his wits hadn't deserted him. Remembering himself, he broke the kiss and pushed Jayne away. He stared at her angrily and then, somewhat pathetically, wiped his mouth as though she'd sullied him. Jayne appeared unperturbed by his rebuff. She winked, then sped off down the mountainside, leaving Rich afraid and confused. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, as he knew that a fair share of his confusion stemmed from the fact that as she sped away his final thought was, 'Great a.r.s.e.'

26. Bar Flies.

It was a good bar to have chosen, Kate thought. For one, she wasn't the only woman sitting alone. There were two others. One was protected by a magazine which Kate a.s.sumed was the French equivalent of h.e.l.lo, while a weighty novel s.h.i.+elded the other. There was also a family of three. A mother and father and a boy aged roughly eleven, not older. He smiled too much to have hit his teens yet. Kate immediately scrabbled for her mobile phone. She called Ted's mother and was a.s.sured that all the children were fit and well. She talked to everyone, even Aurora, who chatted contentedly and incomprehensibly down the phone. After saying goodbye half a dozen times, Kate finally hung up.

There were two men sitting at the bar. One had his back to her, but she had a good view of the other, who was the epitome of Frenchness. Dark, floppy hair, elegant limbs and movement, and well-cut jeans, a fleece and loafers. Neither of them noticed Kate. She was relieved.

The bar was perfect in many other ways, too. The person serving behind it was female, the floors were clean and the music was 1980s. They played people such as Paul Young and Annie Lennox, tunes Kate recognized and even knew the words to. Importantly, they played tunes that had words. She ordered herself a hot chocolate and found a warm corner to enjoy its powdery creaminess. This was the only time on a skiing holiday that Kate felt completely peaceful.

She didn't like snow.

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