Page 107 of The Chalet Girl

Stognev looked surly, muttered something in Russian under his breath, and lamented wasting his time by coming.

Notable in his absence was Tristan Du Kok, who sometimes attended, but wasn’t expected to today, given the brouhaha of the weekend. Viktor Kivvi never attended, because hospitality wasn’t his game, and the founding fathers liked to keep it that way. Vivian would have liked Tristan to attend so the coward could look her in the eye.

The business leaders wished each other a happy Christmas season and scheduled to reconvene on 6 January at Grand Hotel Sommar on the square, and Vivian followed her father into his office for the debrief.

‘Thank you, Daddy,’ Vivian said, relieved it had gone well, relieved to be back in her MO as hospitality badass and not sobbing victim. ‘I still want more women in hospitality in this town. Those guys are all so stuffy and stuck in their ways. Samuel aside…’

Vivian sat in the chair opposite her father’s desk.

‘Well, we’re down one woman at the moment,’ Walter said ruefully.

Vivian looked at him with her winsome gaze. She was furious at her sister, but still felt regret for their father.

‘Have you heard from her?’

Walter shook his head.

‘She’s been in contact with Dimitri,’ he conceded. ‘She’s gone to rehab, but I don’t know where, or how long for…’ he said sadly.

‘Daddy, it’s not your fault!’ Vivian said, although she could see it was delicate for their father. She tapped the notepad she’d brought into the meeting but never used; she would write up the minutes from memory back at the Anna Maria. Vivian had an excellent memory.

‘Any word from Caspian about Christmas?’ she asked, hopefully.

Walter shook his head and looked out of the window. Kristalldorf was picture perfect from the office. Snow covered the village, and he could see Christmas decorations were being put up on the street below. If only he could have all his children home, he thought.

It might be my last.

‘Lysander said something about Hawaii,’ Walter said, wistfully.

‘I’m going to get back to the Anna Maria,’ Vivian said, ‘I’ll take a pastry but don’t forget to have one yourself,’ she said. She was worried about her father. He was losing weight and looking frail.

‘Of course!’ he said, humouring her.

She kissed him on his bald head and walked out towardsthe elevators. As the doors closed on her she breathed a sigh of relief to have got through that first meeting when she had been so exposed. Her father was determined, but so was she. She’d got through the worst humiliation of her life, surely she could get over Tristan Du Kok.

Chapter Sixty

Emme rode Tristan like the stallion he was, shouting in abandon as her breasts moved in tandem with his thrusts and they both battled to time their orgasms to perfection.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Emme moaned, as she collapsed into a heap on Tristan’s torso. His cock exploding in its sheath inside her. A shudder of pleasure ran through her body. This was unlike anything she had ever known, the sexual awakening she was finally getting at twenty-eight. It was raw and rapturous alchemy. Although she had a looming feeling it was coming to an end.

She held him tight and smelled her own sweet breath in his neck.

‘Incredible,’ he said breathlessly.

Emme had delivered the children to school, done some errands for Lexy, and gone to see Tristan in his town-centre apartment. He had been on a Zoom call to buyers in Japan when she arrived, and he let her in and said he wouldn’t be long. She went into his kitchen and made them both a coffee, while he talked to three Japanese hoteliers, then Emme stripped off behind the laptop screen, taking great pleasure in seeing Tristan, his smile and sparkle back, hardening for her and desperate to get off the call. She took as much pleasure in the sexual liberation she felt as she didin how sexy she found Tristan. She had never felt so comfortable in her own skin and so desirable.

Now they were spent.

Ski school was about to finish for the term, and it was fast approaching 1.30pm, when Emme had to collect Harry and Bella.

Tristan lay on his back, his arms stretched out like Jesus on the cross.

‘God, Emme,’ he sighed. ‘What have you done to me?’

She smiled. She still couldn’t believe it. But you couldn’t fake the passion between them, and she was loving it.

She dismounted him and went to get in the shower.