Chapter Twenty-Seven
As Emme weaved back through the high street she lingered on what Lexy had said that morning.
This place was contradictory and bizarre.
Some elements of Kristalldorf were state-of-the-art: the facial recognition entry Lexy had now set her up with, swipe cards for the ski lift, adverts she was walking past that looked like they might be holograms. While others were antiquated.
The Omega clock at the main train station might be studded with diamonds, but it was analogue.
The horse and cart waiting to ferry guests on the cobbled stones outside the Grand Hotel Sommar on the square.
This place is endlessly confusing.
Emme thought of Cassie and already sensed she would be a handy ally in navigating Kristalldorf; how she would be able to ask her questions she couldn’t ask her boss.
As Emme walked past the train station she noticed the Steinherrhof hotel beyond it, and idly looked through the windows, not expecting to see Tiago behind the desk, but pleased that she had. He looked up, smiled and waved.
‘Hi!’ Emme waved back, miming a question as to whether she should go in and say hello.
‘Of course!’ Tiago mouthed, nodding, so she walked in under the heavy old-oak frontage, through swish glass doors that glided apart with ease.
Tiago, wearing a suit, looked surprisingly sharp compared to the boy who laconically ate an apple on her boss’s kitchen counter.
‘Good morning,’ Emme said, as she approached the front desk. The reception area was empty. Norah Jones oozed out of hidden speakers.
‘Hey, how’s it going?’ Tiago asked with tired, smiley eyes.
‘Good thanks – it’s quiet here!’
‘Most of the guests are skiing already, good dump last night,’ he said, as he rubbed his eyes. They chatted for a few minutes about Tiago nearing the end of his shift.
A colleague of Tiago’s walked past in a neat uniform.
‘Good morning,’ she said in English with a French accent.
‘Good morning,’ he smiled back.
‘So you’ve come for the spa, miss?’ Tiago asked with a wink.
‘Oh …’
Emme looked around. Rule seven: no spa-ing while on duty. Was she technically on duty while the kids were at school?
‘Erm, I don’t have a bathing costume,’ she whispered.
‘Well that doesn’t matter,’ Tiago answered with a wry smile. ‘There’s an over sixteens area. Attire not necessary.’
Emme blushed.
Tiago waved his arm.
‘Just kidding. The Germans like that space the best. We have a little gift shop through there, selling swimwear. If you want to choose something?’
Emme panicked about the price and Tiago, reading her mind, gave a brief shake of his head before his colleague, wearing a name brooch that said Magali, joined him behind the desk. Magali familiarised herself with the computer and looked at the handover notes.
Tiago widened his eyes encouragingly, as if to say this is your last chance, my shift ends soon.
‘Well, I do have a few hours and I did really want to use the spa today …’
Tiago outstretched his arm.
‘Of course. Come with me.’
He walked round the desk and led the way to the gift shop, pushing an olive hand through glossy black curls, leaving his hair sticking upwards. Inside, a prim woman was unpacking stock.
‘Jessica, Miss Emme is going to choose a bikini, I’ll charge it to her room.’
The woman nodded as she placed cuddly marmots, each holding a Swiss flag, onto a shelf. Emme looked along a rack of bikinis for sizes that might fit.
Shit.
A mink bikini cost 2,000 Swiss francs, which would be almost that in sterling. She slid it along and looked for something cheaper, something more practical.
She flew through the rack, worried that if she took too long, Tiago might be rumbled.
‘Just bring it to the front desk when you’re ready, and I’ll get your towel, robe and locker key,’ he said, with a nod and a small bow.
Emme smiled gratefully and looked at the swimwear, all high cut, string ties and tiny triangles, and settled on a silver metallic one. It was still 300 Swiss francs, but was the cheapest in her size.
She motioned to Jessica that she was taking it, who nodded and said, ‘Have a nice day,’ in an American accent. Clearly Jessica trusted Tiago too. Or did they all do it?
Emme took the bikini back to Tiago on reception, who removed the tags and handed it, along with a towel, flipflops and robe, to Emme, and walked her in the direction of the lift.
As he pressed the lift button and they waited, a long-legged woman wearing tight black jodhpurs, boots, a black polo neck and a fur coat stormed into the hotel with such fervency it was as though a gale had blown in.
‘You!’ she barked at Magali on the desk, as she whipped off her black Gucci sunglasses and gave a piercing look. It was the woman from Tristan Du Kok’s balcony, the first woman who’d clutched her coat with a wicked smile. Emme couldn’t take her eyes off her as she waited with Tiago by the lifts.
‘Yes, Ms Steinherr,’ the receptionist said reverently.
‘Have you seen my father?’ she asked, accusingly, envelope clutch under her arm.
‘No, ma’am, but I am just starting my shift.’
The woman tossed her glossy chestnut hair back over her shoulders.
Tiago turned his back to the two women on reception, glad to be otherwise occupied with the arrival of the lift.
‘Anastasia Steinherr,’ he whispered to Emme. ‘Her family owns the hotel.’ He returned to his regular speaking volume. ‘Spa is in the basement. I’ll charge this all to your room. Have a nice day, miss.’
‘Thank you!’ Emme mouthed as the lift doors closed. Tiago would probably be gone and sleeping by the time she was done.
‘De nada,’ he replied. And as the lift closed on his smiling face, Emme wondered why the hell Tristan Du Kok’s Steinherr sister girlfriend would have to hide from another woman on the balcony.
The pool was ambient-lit and totally empty, the water serene and flat, changing colour on rotation thanks to the underwater lights.
Green to purple to blue to red. It was begging to be dive-bombed into.
Emme looked at her reflection in the mirrors as she tiptoed along the pool’s edge.
The tiny metallic bikini wasn’t what she would ordinarily choose, but she felt pretty good in it.
The string cut flattered her petite curves, and the shine of the little triangles made her nipples just about protrude through the fabric.
She thought of Tristan Du Kok pressing his hard-on into the blonde; the tenderness with which he comforted her in the café.
Didn’t Anastasia Steinherr care that Tristan Du Kok also slept with someone else?
Dammit.
She decided to leave the pool and explore the outdoor space, where there was a quad clad in cedar, with a sauna and steam room off to one side, and a plunge pool in the middle.
The cold blast of Alpine air would do her good, but it was so freezing outside, she bypassed the swing chair and went to the sauna room which, again, was blissfully empty.
Emme hung her robe on a hook outside the door and entered the small piping-hot steam room.
Almost instantly she felt a moistness on her forehead; beads of sweat on her top lip.
She placed her towel down on a top slat and lay on top of it, hoping no one would come in and ruin her peace.
What a few days it had been. And here she was.
A freebie in a plush spa, all thanks to the new friendships she was forming.
She closed her eyes. Still she couldn’t shake the thought of Tristan Du Kok.
First taking Anastasia from behind. Then sliding his cock into the blonde after she’d left.
How beautiful they all were. How soft his lips and manly his rhythmic thrust might be.
Emme felt sensations she hadn’t felt in years; sensations she craved to feel with another man.
She thought of her last fling, Leo, a friend Tom had fixed her up with, from a covers band he and Leo played in called The Right Stripes.
Leo was a drummer, but he was a clumsy lover.
His hands wandered erratically and nervously.
He didn’t put his hands on her the way Tristan had the blonde.
Leo hadn’t made her come once. She had only been with him to test the waters.
See if it would rattle Tom. See if she could take her mind off her best friend. It had fizzled out after three weeks.
Emme closed her eyes and tried to breathe against the stifling air. She imagined she were riding Tristan’s enormous cock. His strong thighs holding up her petite curves. She would fit more neatly onto him than either of his leggy lovers.
Emme’s hand wandered. The metallic shimmer of her bikini bottoms almost pulsating with the heat from her clitoris. She knew that if she touched herself now, she would come quickly. But what if someone walked in?
What if he walked in?
Oh god, she wanted him so badly. To feel what those women had.
Surely she’d hear someone come in before they saw her?
Her hand slid down and her fingers made that first exquisite touch.
She imagined Tristan’s thick lashes and cocky smile as he walked into the steam room, pushed aside the V of her bikini bottoms, and gently teased his tongue into her.
Emme moaned, pressing harder. The fantasy of Tristan, scooping her up and lifting her off the bench, his hands clasped under her buttocks while he guided her onto his throbbing cock.
Him standing; her legs wrapped around his waist. The sensation of him inside while he thrust. They changed positions, Emme on her tiptoes, Tristan caressing the curves of her arse.
Oh my god.
She was so close to coming.
And then she was suddenly interrupted.
My phone!
It was ringing in the pocket of her robe, just on the other side of the door.
Shit.
She was so close, but something could be wrong with the kids, it could be the school, who had her number now as the first port of call in an emergency. She had to answer it.
Emme got up and felt light-headed.