Suite Embrace (22 page)

T
he last person Mark expected to see in the lobby of the St. Regis was Goldie Lamar, but there she was, dressed in an ankle-length, black goose down coat and white furry boots. She waved excitedly and started toward him, a huge smile on her carefully made-up face.

“Why, Mark Jorgen!” She wrapped both arms around his shoulders and gave him a hard hug. “What a nice surprise. Are you staying here?” she asked, leaning back.

“Uh…I'm working here now. Giving private lessons,” he told her, not yet used to talking about his new position. Goldie's perfume swept over him, and swept his mind back to the days when women like her were the only ones he'd wanted to be with. Rich, flighty, and far too gay. Now, he'd be spending every day giving lessons to women like her and the thought was not so appealing.

“Private lessons? Really? I didn't know.”

“Started a few days ago.”

“Well, my cousin, Angelica, and I just arrived this morning. She insisted on staying in Aspen, so we wound up here, otherwise I would have gone back to Scenic Ridge. I had such a good time when I was there. But now that you're here, I'll have to sign on for a few more lessons.”

“Sure, Goldie. Call the concierge and arrange it.”

“I will. Won't it be fun to pick up where we left off?”

Mark could only nod.

“First thing tomorrow morning, we'll hit the slopes.” She giggled and lifted both hands to her bright red lips. “And this time I promise to do better.”

I doubt that you'll ever do any better.
Mark shoved that thought to the back of his mind, knowing he was going to have students far worse than Goldie to deal with from now on.

“Are you on your way out?” Goldie gushed, eyes wide with interest.

“No,” Mark told her, “I'm meeting my mother in the lounge for a drink.”

“Your mother? Virina Dagrun is here with you?”

“Yes,” Mark replied. “She's taking some time off from her work with Deleur. You know, slowing down for a while.”

“I can understand why. She seems so busy. Simply everywhere. I ran into her last week at
Perfect Faces
in Beverly Hills. Such a beautiful woman. May I join you? I'd love to chat for a while.”

“I'm sure she'd love that, too,” Mark assured Goldie, a touch of relief in his voice. For the past few days he had avoided spending time with Virina whenever possible and hadn't been looking forward to meeting her for a drink this afternoon, but hadn't had a good reason to refuse her invitation.

Now that she was living at the St. Regis, where her son was on staff, Mark could tell that Virina was elated to be back in her element and in full circulation again. She bragged on him with everyone she met, and her prideful demeanor was beginning to wear thin.

Coming to work at the St. Regis had been his mother's idea and she had called on her old friend, Franco, the manager, to make it happen. After deciding to put some space between himself and Skylar, Mark had been too distraught over Skylar's deception and too busy packing to argue with his mother, so he'd acquiesced to her wishes and here he was, though he felt as if he'd sold out to her demands by taking the job.

Mark glanced over at Goldie—the perfect match for Virina. As soon as the two women started talking clothes and cosmetics, he would be able to slip out unnoticed and return to his room.

His room. A lonely space on the seventeenth floor that was crammed with everything he had managed to bring with him from the Snow King Suite. John was sending what he'd left behind to a storage unit in town. Now, Mark lived in a room with a bed, a bathroom, a TV and a minibar, and besides giving ski lessons, he had nothing to do but sit around and think about how he had let Deena and her staff down, as well as the mess he'd made of things with Skylar.

Skylar. God, how he missed her, as well as his beautiful cabin in the woods and the wonderful people he'd worked with. Leaving had been his only option once he'd made up his mind to break it off with Skylar, but he wasn't happy. He would stick it out at the St. Regis until he found something better; however, there were few options for a ski instructor so late in the season. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not.

“What a coincidence, you working here,” Goldie broke into his thoughts, sidling closer. “Why did you leave Scenic Ridge?”

“Oh, it was just time to try something new,” Mark hedged, not wanting to go into details. He'd had two students this morning: a computer software mogul from San Jose and a dentist from Hong Kong, and he was already through for the day. His workday at the St. Regis was a picnic compared to the rigorous schedule he had kept at Scenic Ridge, but all that free time meant nothing to him. He was restless, anxious, bored and depressed. What he needed was something, or someone, to occupy his time.

Goldie linked her arm through Mark's in a possessive move and walked with him as they made their way toward the lounge off the lobby.

“Change is always a good thing,” Goldie advised. “This place is fabulous. Much more sophisticated than the quaint little ski resort where you were living, and a lot more fun, too. Parties every night. You're going to love it. You made a wise choice.”

“I hope so,” Mark commented, though he wasn't feeling particularly enthusiastic about his decision. At least he was working, but would it keep him busy enough to dull the ache in his heart?

“As a matter of fact, I'm having a party tonight,” Goldie was saying. “My suite. Eight o'clock. You and your mother must come up. Everyone who's anyone is going to be there.”

Mark nodded and impulsively squeezed Goldie's hand.

“Then, you'll come?” she asked.

“I'll be there,” Mark replied, thinking of how easy it would be to fall back into the fast-paced, party-hopping lifestyle that he had once enjoyed. Back then, his life had been so uncomplicated—filled with temporary, uncomplicated relationships that had never caused him any grief. Having a good time had been his priority.
So, why not return to what was easy and familiar?
he thought. At least there'd be no surprises.

 

“I know you made your reservation four months in advance, Mr. Overton, but your wife canceled it last week. I hate to tell you this, but every room in the main lodge is reserved until the middle of next week.” Skylar held her breath, waiting for the blast of outrage that she knew was about to come at her. Mr. and Mrs. Randolf Overton were not the kind of guests who were used to being denied whatever they wanted and Skylar certainly didn't want to turn them away, but there was nothing she could do. Mrs. Overton had impulsively cancelled their reservation after an argument with her husband, but once they reconciled, they had simply shown up at the resort, expecting to have their room.

“Then you'd better put someone out,” Mr. Overton, a lean, big-boned man with a ruddy brown complexion, demanded. “Sara and I came all the way from Cincinnati for this weekend getaway, and now you're telling me we don't have a room! I don't want to hear it!”

“I wish you had called first, maybe I could have arranged something,” Skylar began, feeling rotten about the problem. “If you'd like, I can call around and find you a room at another hotel in the area. We'll be happy to provide transportation…”

“No. This is where we've celebrated our anniversary for the past five years and we don't plan to spend our sixth anyplace else. You'd better find us a room, young lady. Deena Simpson knows we always stay in the corner room on the second floor, facing the western side of the mountains. Where is Mrs. Simpson, anyway? This is not acceptable!”

“Mrs. Simpson is away on a personal matter.” Skylar sighed aloud, understanding the man's disappointment and his anger, but it was not her fault that his wife had messed things up.

Damn. Skylar was beginning to think that she'd made a big mistake by agreeing to manage the resort while Deena was away. The past three days had been filled with hours of hassling with suppliers, calming testy employees and working with the local authorities to run a group of deer hunters off the property. She was exhausted. And now she had to deal with the Overtons!

Thinking fast, and not about to lose one of Scenic Ridge's long-term, valuable customers, she told the couple, “All I might have available is the Snow King Suite,” she impulsively offered. “It's a fully furnished cabin, but at the highest end of our rates.” Just saying the words, “Snow King Suite” made Skylar's stomach lurch, but she swallowed back the pain.

“Might have available? What does that mean?” Mr. Overton demanded.

“The former tenant just moved out a few days ago and I'll have to check to see if it's ready to be occupied.”

“Well, go and check. That's exactly what I'd like for me and my wife. Something special. Cozy.” He put his arm around Mrs. Overton, a black-haired beauty with a serene smile who was grinning smugly at Skylar, obviously used to getting her way.

Forcing a smile, Skylar nodded. “Why don't you two go into the café and have lunch, on the house, of course, while I see what we can do?”

“Good idea,” Mr. Overton replied, already turning away. “You'll know where to find us.”

“Yes, I will,” Skylar murmured to herself as she reached for the phone to call housekeeping.

When Martha, the head maid answered, she assured Skylar that she and John had sent all of Mark's things to storage and that the Snow King Suite had been thoroughly cleaned.

“Good,” Skylar told Martha. “But I think I'd better take a look, just to be sure.” After removing the keys to the suite from the drawer beneath the registration counter, Skylar put on her parka and left.

When she opened the door to what used to be Mark's home, she felt a shiver of regret grip her. The place looked the same, as far as the furnishings were concerned, but all touches of Mark's personality were gone. The inlaid wooden boxes on the coffee table, his medals and trophies which he had kept on the shelf next to the fireplace, the photos of him and his ski buddies that had been on display on the sideboard, his red parka, which always hung on the hook by the door. Even the cold dark hearth brought a chill to Skylar. Not once had she ever been inside the cabin when there had not been a blazing fire warming the room.

For some reason, her mind went to Lewis, and she realized how differently she felt about losing Mark. Lewis had been a prick, really, in his pin stripe, wide lapel suits, flashy jewelry and with his new Miss Diva on his arm. Not at all like Mark, who had been caring, conservative and loyal to her. She missed Mark more than she ever imagined possible. She longed for the fresh scent of his skin, the soft feel of his hair and waking up in his arms to gaze out at the snow-covered mountains in the distance.

Crossing the room, her footsteps echoed eerily on the wooden floor as she left the great room and headed toward the bedroom. At the door, she realized that she couldn't go in, so she stood in the entry and stared at the king-size four poster bed, freshly made and inviting. She was unable to keep her mind from whirling back to the kisses and caresses and the sensual embraces they had shared among the sheets. She could still feel Mark's warm flesh against hers, still taste his lips, his chest, his hard flat stomach. Her eyes traveled over the red star-patterned quilt, the fluffy soft pillows, the extra blanket that he always kept draped across the end rail.

We made love there and made promises to each other, too, but all I have now is a deep pain of longing that will not go away. What happened to those promises? Can we ever make it right? Would Mark listen to me if I tried?

Blinking back tears, Skylar forced herself to thoroughly inspect the rest of the cabin, to be sure it was ready for new guests. With each curtain she drew back and each drawer she pulled open, the wound of losing Mark was made fresh again.

Now, I've got to tell Mr. Overton that the suite will cost four times as much as the room his wife cancelled, and that means another nasty conversation,
she calculated, dreading the encounter.

Pushing that thought aside, she moved toward the front door, preparing to leave, and then turned to give the place a final sweep. Standing at the door, she hesitated, a thought entering her mind. She'd let the Overtons have the Snow King Suite for free for the weekend, she decided. They'd had a fight, but they'd made up. They had managed to overcome whatever their problems had been and seemed as close as any couple could be. Obviously, they were still very much in love after six years of marriage. Why not let them have a special memory of their reconciliation? People in love deserved a break, she reasoned.

“Deena would have done the same thing, I'm sure,” Skylar commented to herself, wishing that she and Mark could have solved their problems by simply going away for a romantic reunion.

With that settled, Skylar went to the phone and called Victor at the front desk to make the arrangements for the Overton's luggage to be brought to the cabin. As soon as she hung up the phone, it rang again and she picked it up, expecting it to be Victor.

“Hello. Victor?”