Chapter Seven
I takea walk to the bottom of the first piste and sit on a wooden bench, watching a group of kids, no more than five or six years old, move across the flat snow on tiny skis. Their ski instructor makes them follow him in a single line so that he looks like a mother duck and they his ducklings. Then he stops and gets them to line up in a row in front of him. He looks in my direction and waves. I press my finger into my chest and he laughs, pulling his ski hat and goggles off. It’sPierre.
“Hey, Pierre,” I call, waving back. I watch him as he looks down at all the kids and pulls a face. They all laugh like he’s the funniest thing they’ve everseen.
“He is so goddamn cute, isn’t he?” I turn to see Shawna walk towards me, a huge grin plastered over her face. She sits down next to me on the bench. “So, what happened last night? You went downstairs with Luke, then when I tried to find you later you’d gone. When I asked around after you some really fit guy with the greenest eyes and the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen said you’dleft.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I was a bit knackered. Decided to head backearly.”
“Sure, no sweat. That fit guy though, he wassmokinghot. He was with two other men. The bearded guy was all over one of the dancers. I heard he asked her back to his place after her shift hadfinished.”
“He did. She left not longago.”
“What?” Shawna says, her mouth dropping open in a delighted laugh. She claps her mitten-covered hands together. “You mean yourfamilyare those three hotties. Did any of them come with agirlfriend?”
“Nope. I basically think they’re here to fuck,” I say, remembering Hudson’s hand on mystomach.
“Ah, it all makes sense now,” Shawna says, her face lightingup.
“What makessense?”
“They are the brothersFreed.”
“Freed? That’s their surname?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “I suppose they like to befreeto get into women’sknickers.”
Shawna giggles, shuffling up next to me on the bench. “Apparently, they’re not really brothers. That’s just what they tell everyone. Rumour has it they all grew up in some care home and that all of them had shittymothers.”
My head snaps around to look at Shawna. “Who told youthat?”
“Luke told me about them, or rather he warned me about the brothers Freed when I first startedhere.”
“Is thatso?”
“He said there were these three brothers who come here every year for the whole skiing season. That they are wealthy, love to party, andlovewomen. According to Luke, they shag their way through the holidaymakers, resort staff, chalet girls, locals. A different girl every night. They’re a bunch of lotharios and are amazing in bed by all accounts, but emotionally fucked-up. Like, bigtime.”
“Yep, I reckon that just about sums them up,” I say, feeling angrier by the minute at Hudson’s advances. What a totalprick.
“Well, shit. If I were you I’d be offering myself up on a platter. They are ridiculously gorgeous.” She looks at me and I can’t help but laugh at the face she pulls, even though there’s no way I am going there. Nope, the brothers Freed were offlimits.
“I’m telling you, Louisa, there isn’t a hot-blooded woman on this planet who wouldn’t get her clothes off for one of those threehunks.”
“Well, there’s me,” I say, trying to forget the moment by the sink with Hudson a few minutes ago. That had been a complete lapse injudgment.
“I don’t believe it. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t jump in bed with one of them, given half thechance?”
“They love themselves a bit too much for my liking,” Imumble.
Shawna narrows her eyes at me. “What aren’t you saying? Please tell me you shagged one ofthem?”
“No, I haven’t shagged one of them, and I don’t intend to either. The brothers Freed are not for me. I don’t do damaged goods,” I say, mostly because my own damaged soul is enough to contend with. There isn’t room in my life for anymore.
“Hudson, how are you doing, mate?” a man says as he’s skiing towards us. Shawna and I both flip our heads around and find ourselves staring at the brothers Freed. All three are looking at me. All of them look pissed as hell.Fuck.
* * *
For the restof the day, I avoid going back to the chalet. I don’t want another confrontation with the brothers, so I take a trip up the mountain instead to observe the skiers as they speed down the slope. Despite it being cold enough for snow, the sun still feels warm on my face, and I understand now why so many people have a tan. The view from the café is incredible. When I sit in the outside seating area I feel as though I am on the top of the world, and that all my troubles back home are just tiny specks of dust like the skiers at the bottom of the piste. But my feelings of freedom and peace are short lived when I realise I must go back to the chalet to prepare the evening meal and face the brothers once more. I pay for my drinks and food at the bar then take the lift back down the slope. Half an hour later I am back at thechalet.
“Well, if it isn’t our very own Ice Queen,” Max slurs as Ienter.