Walk on the Wild Side by Natalie Anderson Page B

green-powered, luxury lodge where visiting Hollywood actors stayed when they were on a break from their location shoots and wanted to soak up the splendour of the Southern Alps. Kelsi’s jaw dropped as she went on the virtual tour of it on the website. The man was loaded.
    Then there were the video clips—and they totally diverted her. She watched some, barely peeping between her fingers as he defied gravity, reality and plain commonsense by jumping off sheer edges of mountains, spinning round thirty times mid-air and then landing on the snow upright and coasting fast on a board that surely should have broken. He should have broken—and would have if he’d misjudged by even a millimetre.
    And then there were the women. He had no less than five different fan pages on Facebook—featuring the modelling pictures from years ago, the stills taken when he was midair in some jump. People tweeted with sightings of him and had pictures of them smiling standing next to him by the T-bar or chairlift.
    She’d had no idea there was such a scene with snowboarding. As rock stars had their groupies, snowboarders seemed to have their bunnies—beautiful women who were all long limbs and athletically capable. Some of them did those hair-raising jumps, too, some of them wore bikinis on the slopes—and all of them were clearly willing to do whatever with him.
    So why on earth had Jack Greene ever bothered with her?
    He must have been bored and caught by an impulse. Entertaining himself for a few hours before a mind-numbing plane ride. It was the only explanation. She cringed—it must have been so average for him. And she was so glad she’d managed a cool and sophisticated goodbye. Even though on the inside she’d been hoping he’d ask to spend the rest of the afternoon with her.
    She’d never had such spontaneous, sensual sex. Never outdoors. Never a one-night—or mid-morning—stand. Sex had always been under the covers in the dark in one of her total of two relationships. Never so wild and free and reckless. Frankly, there was a lot to be said for it. But she’d never admit it to anyone—especially not now she knew she was one of a zillion to be slayed by him.
    Next morning, heavy-hearted and unwilling to crawl out from hiding under her covers, she tried to tell herself it had all been a dream. If it weren’t for the few marks on her body, the sweet aches in her muscles, maybe she could convince herself totally. But there were those marks, those aches and that yearning feeling that just wouldn’t go away.
    More. She’d always wanted more—from life, from lovers, most of all from herself. She sighed and flung back the covers. How was she going to be able to look her workmates in the eyes? How did she tell them she hadn’t made it to that wretched appointment?
    â€˜Wow, you look amazing,’ said Tom, who was on the other side of her partition in the office. ‘You’re glowing.’
    Um, well, that would be the slight all-over-body sunburn. But she’d covered up in a filmy black ensemble that clung from her neck down.
    â€˜What treatments did you go for?’ Tom was still staring.
    Kelsi flushed and mumbled, ‘A new sort of sand scrub.’
    â€˜Sand? Like from the Dead Sea or something?’
    â€˜Something like that.’ Lying by omission wasn’t as bad as a complete fabrication, was it?
    â€˜Awesome.’ Tom’s brows were almost to his hairline. ‘I’m going to have to book my girlfriend in for one of those. It’s done wonders for you.’ He stepped closer and looked at Kelsi’s eyes. ‘What colour?’
    â€˜Rose.’ She badly needed that tint on the world today.
    She got her moisturiser from her drawer and smoothed it over her hands as she read through her emails. Then she forced her brain to concentrate on work. But she kept slipping. She’d been played so beautifully. Maybe falling