Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,17
been raised with.
They displayed it often, but never deliberately. It just hung around their shoulders like a cloak and shone through in their speech. In shared childhood memories of Caribbean cruises and ski trips.
The difference didn’t feel insurmountable with Cole. It never had. But with Blair? It had been a sign over her head from the first time I saw her. NOT FOR THE LIKES OF YOU. Hell, I’d added to that monument myself over the years. Little roadblocks and diversions. Cues to say the thing she’d least like hearing.
And the difference between us grew until it became a mountain.
Unbidden, my mind conjures up the image of them both when we’d been told about the pregnancy. Cole was happy, in that deep, content way, and good for him.
Blair had cried. She’d actually cried, happy, warm tears that she wasn’t the least bit ashamed about shedding. Joy had illuminated her from within, leaving her practically glowing, as she hugged them both. She wore her emotions on her sleeve.
It’s been nearly two weeks, but the memory still hits me every now and then. Never had I seen her so happy. It wasn’t a face she generally showed around me.
No, with me she’s a hissing cat. Teeth bared and hackles raised. It’s predictable and safe, at least. Easier by far to face.
A car is waiting for me by the helipad. The driver makes his way in silence up the snowy streets of Whistler, passing chalet after chalet on the mountainside. Cole and Skye should already be there, having flown up a day earlier. I suspect Blair had gone with them.
A job that’s respected. A wife who adores him. A child on the way and nothing but a good life to lead. For a moment, I nearly drown in my own bitter envy of Cole. It doesn’t happen often—I couldn’t be the man if I tried—and it doesn’t last long.
When the car stops outside a chalet that’s as much window as it is pine, my indulgence in self-pity is over. The house is nestled in a snowy hillside and entirely surrounded by firs. I take the steps in two and let the staff handle my luggage.
Cole stands by the front door. Wearing a woolen sweater and with at least a few days of unshaved growth on his face, he looks like he’s given up entirely. He’s also grinning widely.
“Christ, man,” I say. “Are you trying to become one with the mountain?”
He pulls me in to slap me on the shoulder. “Yes. Perhaps then it’ll stop seeing me as an enemy.”
“An enemy?”
“He took a fall today!” Skye calls from behind him. “While skiing!”
“It wasn’t all that bad,” Cole says.
“Nothing broken, I hope?”
“Nothing vital at least. Come on, see the place.” I follow him into a large living space. White couches and sheepskin throws make way to a gigantic copper fireplace. The entire north-facing facade is glass, and the view is just as spectacular as I suspected. All of Whistler and the snow-covered mountains beyond.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Skye is sitting on one of the couches, a thick bathrobe around her. She’s cupping a mug in her hands. “There’s a deck, too, with a hot tub. You can head out there now, if you’d like. Relax from your traveling.”
The idea of some peace and quiet and hot water wins. It doesn’t take long to get installed in one of the guest rooms and then I’m making my way out into the cold winter air in nothing but my trunks.
The hot tub is illuminated by underwater spotlights. Steam rises from it into the freezing air, snow melting around it.
Only it’s not empty.
Blair is sitting with her back to me. Only her shoulders and neck are visible above the water—smooth, tan skin. Her wheat-blonde hair is swept up into a messy pile on her head, tendrils hanging down her neck. They curl in the steam.
“You’re back,” she says languidly. “I’ve come up with some new names in the meantime. Before you laugh, let me tell you why I genuinely think Bear could be a cool name. At least as a middle name.”
I walk around the edge of the hot tub. “It’s a good name, if you don’t care about the kid. Are you trying to get them to revoke their offer of being a godparent?”
Blair’s eyes widen as she takes me in. For just a second, I can almost convince myself that a happy welcome is coming.
But then she frowns. “I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“If you were