In Bed with the Ice Queen (The Ice Queen #4)

7. Helena

7

HELENA

H elena sat on the edge of the crisp hotel bed, her mind racing as she held her phone tightly. The tropical air wafted through the open window, and she could hear the ocean waves crashing in the distance, but all she could focus on was the conversation unfolding on the phone.

“Sarah, why did my room get mixed up with Sloane Callahan’s?” Helena's voice was sharp, her eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

“Helena, I told you. We had to leave a lot of the bookings to that package Thompson Industries reserved,” Sarah replied from the other end. Helena could hear the papers rustling and the occasional sigh in the background. “I thought you would get your own room, and I can contact them if you want. I'll sort this out.”

“No,” Helena snapped, clenching her jaw. “The desk attendant said the whole hotel is booked. He said the whole fucking island is booked. It’s not going to work. I’ll just see what I can do.” She ended the call.

From her perch in the armchair, Sloane straightened up and glanced over at Helena, her expression mildly amused. Helena could feel Sloane’s eyes on her, but she tried to ignore the distraction. She rose from the bed and paced near the window, trying to calm her racing heart. The Hawaiian sun cast a warm glow through the glass, but it did little to soothe her.

The last thing she needed was to be trapped in a room with her rival who she had been thinking about just about non stop.

“Just think about it, Helena,” Sloane interjected gently, her tone smooth and collected. “It may have been a mix-up, but causing a fuss right now might bite you in the butt later.”

“What do you mean?” Helena shot back. She felt a tug of irritation wash over her.

Sloane leaned back, folding her arms. “Look, I’m representing Thompson Industries. They’re concerned about this merger, and they need us all to get along. This could really start this business trip on bad footing.”

Helena’s frustrations boiled inside her, but Sloane’s point hung in the air like an uninvited guest. Helena thought about the pressure her father had put on her to close the deal and how he mentioned bringing her brother into the discussions—and possibly replacing her as CEO—if she couldn’t manage it. She didn’t want to fail. Not now, not at this critical moment.

“But, it’s ridiculous, I bet the men aren’t having to share rooms,” Helena said, feeling her heart race. She didn’t like being pushed into a corner. Sloane stood up and walked toward Helena, her movements fluid and sure. “I understand, but let’s be smart about this. You’re right to be annoyed, but how you handle it will define this trip. I get that it’s not ideal, but showing adaptability will reflect well on all of us.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll hold off on kicking off further for now,” Helena said, her voice softer. “I just wanted to start things off right.”

“Me too,” Sloane replied, a hint of a smile on her lips. “But first, let’s enjoy this beautiful hotel. We only have to sleep in this room. You’ll have time to see if you can address this tomorrow.”

She looked out the window at the sun glowing on the ocean, the waves rolling in and out. For a moment, she could almost forget about the stressful trip ahead of her.

“You know,” Sloane said, breaking Helena from her thoughts as she settled back into the armchair, “Hawaii isn’t so bad. Even if our rooms got mixed up.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one stuck in a room with only one bed with a sharky corporate lawyer,” Helena replied.

Sloane chuckled. “True, but think of it as an adventure. We can fill our mornings with meetings and power lunches, but the evenings are ours. This place has so much to offer.”

The flicker of excitement in Sloane’s eyes was contagious, and Helena felt a spark of annoyance again as they exchanged glances. “Your positivity isn’t helping.”

Helena sat on the edge of the hotel bed, running her fingers through her hair, frustrated. The room was simple yet elegant, with light-colored walls and a big window that overlooked the water. It should have felt cozy, but instead, Helena felt trapped. Sharing a room with Sloane Callahan was not part of her plans, especially when the only bed was a queen.

Being fiercely attracted to Sloane made this all the harder.

Sloane unpacked her bags, and she seemed completely unbothered by the fact that they were forced to share such close quarters. She studied the room as she carefully placed her clothes in a neat pile on a chair. Helena couldn’t understand how Sloane could maintain that level of composure.

Frustration bubbled up inside of her again, and she couldn’t stay silent anymore.

“This is so inappropriate. How are we going to get rest with one person on this tiny couch? Really?”

Sloane paused, turning to face Helena. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, Helena,” she replied smoothly, as if she was used to handling awkward situations.

Helena threw her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously? You don’t think this is weird?”

Sloane shrugged, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “I think it’s okay. I mean, you know we’re both adults, and?—”

“Wait a minute,” Helena interrupted sharply, her voice rising. “How do you know it’s okay for me? You don’t know anything about me. You hit on me the other day! Entirely inappropriately I might add.”

“Oh, come on, Helena, lighten up. I hit on you. You shut me down. End of story. No big deal.”

“I’m not even…”

Sloane raised an eyebrow.

“Not even what, Helena?” said Sloane with a look that suggested that she knew damn well that Helena was. She fixed her gaze on Helena’s big brown eyes.

“Not even…” Helena’s voice was quiet and then petered out. “OK, well maybe I am a bit. But, nobody knows. How on earth would you presume to know?”

“I’ve seen you look at me,” Sloane countered, clearly not backing down from the challenge.

Helena flared up instantly, “I certainly have NOT looked at you. This is beyond a joke now. You need to back off.”

Sloane put her hands up, “Ok, ok. Calm down. I’m not doing anything. You can be gay or straight or bi or in the closet or whatever, nothing to do with me.”

Helena knew she had issues with her sexuality, and it seemed that Sloane was regretting bringing it up now.

Helena crossed her arms, her brows furrowing. “This whole thing is just ridiculous, Sloane. Why would you even say that?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Sloane’s voice was softer now, more sincere. “I just mean that sexuality can be fluid. You get to choose whatever you want to be. And you also have no obligation to share it. If it makes you feel any more comfortable, I’m also…” She trailed off, her eyes darting to the floor.

“Also what?” Helena asked, her temper still simmering, but curiosity piquing through her annoyance.

“Also a lesbian,” Sloane admitted, running a hand through her wavy hair, appearing increasingly awkward.

“I am certainly NOT a lesbian,” Helena flared again, her eyes blazing in defence.

Helena didn’t know what she was calling her sexuality, she wasn’t into men, never had been. But she had still never been comfortable with branding herself as a lesbian. So her defence had come out faster than she wanted to. But she wasn’t about to explain any of that to Sloane.

“I just thought we were on the same level, you know? So it wouldn’t be weird for either of us. But clearly, I misjudged.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”

As Sloane went back to unpacking with a slight flush on her cheeks, Helena felt a bit of her anger melt away. She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can I just…have a moment in the bathroom to change and get ready for bed? It’s been a long day.”

“Of course,” Sloane replied quickly, relief washing over her face. “Take your time.”

Helena stood up, grabbing her clothes. “Thanks.” As she headed toward the bathroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

She stood in the small, dimly lit bathroom as she waited for the water to heat up for her shower.. As steam filled the room, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Her brow furrowed as she thought everything that led her to this moment.

“What a day,” she muttered to herself, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It had been a long flight, and Sloane had been seated right near her. They’d exchanged awkward glances and made small talk. Just when Helena thought she would have a peaceful escape from the world, they’d both ended up checking into the same hotel—and the most baffling part, the same room.

“I can’t believe my life right now.” She sighed, her irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

Sloane was nice enough, but the whole situation felt so inappropriately intimate.

Which it probably wouldn’t have done had Helena not found Sloane so painfully attractive.

And now, Helena was wrestling with a whole new layer of frustration after the unexpected revelation that they both were attracted to women.

It shouldn’t have been unexpected, Helena rationalized. But, somehow, it still was, for her at least. Not, as it seemed, for Sloane.

Her mind wandered to the navy jumpsuit that Sloane had worn. It looked comfortable and form-fitting, yet classy. Helena shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. “Focus, Helena. Just take a shower.”

She stepped in, closing the curtain behind her, and felt the hot water wash over her, cleansing not just her skin but her swirling thoughts. As the steam enveloped her, she could still feel Sloane’s soft presence from the other room, and it made Helena’s heart race.

Why does she have to be so…everywhere? What if all this is some kind of master plan? A trap? Helena thought. Her heart began to pound at the thought. Sloane was charming. She could easily lure someone in. What if this was part of a master scheme to control the outcome of the merger? “Calm down, Hel,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head as she rinsed off the soap. “You’re being ridiculous.”

But for a moment, she imagined what it would be like to face Sloane with no makeup on, her skin bare and vulnerable. Sloane was so naturally beautiful. The paranoia started to melt away, replaced by an odd sense of relief. If Sloane was also a woman who loved women, maybe this situation wasn’t as inappropriate as she thought.

With the water hitting her back, she found herself smiling just a little as a thought crossed her mind. Maybe she could be friends with Sloane, but would Sloane want to be friends with someone like her? And is it really ok to crush on a friend the way that Helena was beginning to crush on Sloane? The speck of confidence she had slowly began to dampen.

“Okay, okay,” Helena said, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. “Pull it together.”

She glanced at her makeup bag on the counter, a splurge of colors tumbling out like a vibrant jumble of candy. After a moment of hesitation, she opened it and decided just to apply a splash of blush to her cheeks and some chapstick. Just enough to look fresh, but not too much. Peering into the mirror, she questioned Sloane’s motives again before she dismissed them, reasoning it didn’t matter what Sloane thought. With her heart racing, she took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. The moment she stepped out of the warm solitude, she was met with Sloane stretched out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV.

“Hey, there you are!” Sloane said, her tone light and friendly, her smile easy. “I thought you were hiding from me.”

Helena felt her nervousness wash away slightly as she braced herself against the bathroom door frame, her voice steadier than it felt. “I didn’t want to come out looking like a mess.”

“I doubt you could ever look like a mess,” Sloane replied playfully, her eyes twinkling. “But it’s nice to finally see you. You’ve got the whole ‘fresh face’ look going on. Very chic. I like the loungewear. Is that Versace?”

Helena looked down at her night attire, feeling exposed, but she was glad to see Sloane had also gotten into pajamas. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. They were just two women in a hotel room—nothing more, nothing less. Or perhaps, just maybe, there was the spark of friendship kindling underneath.

“Yes, thanks,” Helena said, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “I mean, it feels a little vulnerable to be without make up post 40.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m nearing forty too, I understand,” Sloane replied. “Now, want to order some room service and watch something terrible on TV?”

“I guess,” Helena said, feeling more at ease. As they sat together, Helena couldn’t shake off the feeling that maybe this whole situation was bizarre.

Sloane laughed as she flicked through the TV channels. "Want to watch The Office instead? It’s kind of late to start a movie. You like that show, right?"

Helena raised an eyebrow, momentarily distracted. “Of course I love it! Who doesn’t love Michael Scott's clueless antics?”

Soon, their room service arrived, carrying the rich smell of pizza, fresh salad, and golden chicken tenders that filled the room. As they dug into their food, sharing laughs over the quirky humor of the show, something shifted in the air. Sloane sat across from her on the couch, and Helena couldn't help but notice the little things, like how Sloane nibbled on a chicken tender and how her eyes lit up during a funny scene.

“See? This is way better than sulking alone,” Sloane said, her laughter infectious.

“Maybe,” Helena mumbled, but her heart wasn’t fully in it. She quickly shoved a piece of pizza in her mouth to distract herself so she didn’t have to think too hard about what she was feeling.

After the episode ended, the room fell silent. Helena felt the awkwardness creeping back in. She had to get up. Standing wasn’t a problem; it was the unsettling sensation in her chest that made her feel nervous. She didn’t want to analyze her feelings, especially about Sloane. They were just colleagues, after all.

"Mind if I brush my teeth first?" Sloane asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Helena replied, trying not to trip over her words.

After Sloane was done, Helena walked to the bathroom, and she couldn’t shake the undercurrent of nervousness. There was something about Sloane that made her pulse quicken, something unnervingly intriguing. Maybe it was those blue eyes. Or perhaps it was simply her confidence. Helena quickly washed her hands and splashed her face with cold water, hoping to reset her mind.

Sloane had such confidence in her sexuality and although that was terrifying, it was also so attractive. Helena realized suddenly how little experience she had with women and she felt very exposed.

When she returned, Sloane was trying to adjust on the couch, her long legs sticking out awkwardly. Helena disliked how her heart thudded at the sight. Sloane looked just a little uncomfortable, her usual poise tinged with unease.

“This couch is not made for sleeping. I feel like a pretzel,” Sloane joked, a light blush creeping up her cheeks.

Helena felt a twinge of guilt. "You know, you can join me in the bed if you want. It would be less...cramped," she offered hesitantly.

“Really?” She sat up perched on one arm, looking over.

“As long as you promise you didn’t orchestrate this whole thing just to get me into bed,” Helena joked, but she secretly was curious.

“What? Why would you think I’d want to?” Sloane asked.

Helena glanced away, swallowing hard. "I don’t know. You were hitting on me after our meeting."

“Ugh, not this again,” Sloane said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe lawyers are hard to trust, but I promise you I wouldn’t pull a stunt like this. I have no idea how all this happened. It must have been a mix-up with the reservation."

Helena shrugged, her thoughts spinning. They were colleagues, but there was something more right now. Something that made her cheeks warm. Maybe it was just the pizza talking, but she didn’t entirely believe that. Sloane’s laughter lingered in her mind, intoxicating yet confusing.

Sloane’s pyjamas consisted of striped PJ bottoms and a tight tank top that showed off the outline of her breasts. And her nipples. Helena couldn’t help her eyes sweeping over them.

Sloane definitely noticed, but pretended not to.

With a resigned sigh, Sloane climbed into bed next to Helena. “Just know that if you snore, I’m out of here.”

“Deal,” Helena replied, trying to sound confident but feeling slightly breathless.

As they settled in, the room wrapped them in a comfortable darkness. The only sound was the gentle hum from the TV, and the warmth from Sloane’s presence sent a whole new set of alarms buzzing in Helena’s head. They stayed that way for nearly an hour, and Helena barely heard Sloane’s soft voice pierce the silence that, to Helena, seemed so loud.

“Hey, Helena? I just wanted to say you’re not as uptight as I thought.”

Helena smiled, a mix of emotions washing over her. “Thanks, I guess. You’re not so bad either.”

They both fell silent again, but this time it felt different. The world outside their hotel room faded, and Helena felt a buzz between them.