Tall Poppies (15 page)

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Authors: Louise Bagshawe

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BOOK: Tall Poppies
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Her heart was hammering against her ribcage. Her palms were clammy under her gloves.

He wants me to beg him toease off! she thought. Jack Taylor thinks I’ll go crawling up to him, admitting I can’t keep up with him! I’ll die of a heart attack first, you bastard!

She settled into a racing position, chasing Taylor’s handsome silhouette in front of her.

‘So, how are you doing, honey?’ Jack asked as she drew level. ‘All warmed up?’

 

Warmed up? ‘You said you’ve ski’d this before.’ ‘Yes, ma’am.’ The Texan drawl was relaxed.

‘So when does it start getting hard?’ Elizabeth asked casually. Two could play that game.

Taylor looked across at Elizabeth, imagining that strong, sexy body curled up naked on the rug beside his chalet hearth. She was stunning. It was turning him on, watching her move. If only she wasn’t such an arrogant bitch.

Jack didn’t want to admit he was changing his mind about Lady Elizabeth Savage. He’d been determined to despise her - just a haughty British piece of ass who was squandering her talent, dissing her teammates and turning on the charm for the cameras - but it was hard to dispute that her attitude had changed. And despite the fact that he’d rated.her as competent but boring - a robot in rainbow Lycra - this year she’d been something else. Heidi Laufen had perfect technique, but Elizabeth Savage was inspirational. Fluid and fast. One of the best he’d ever seen.

This run would have beaten most guys he knew by

now.

‘Right about now,’ Jack said, and shot over a mogul, executing a perfect helicopter spin. He plunged full throttle towards the pine forest which now loomed up over the second ridge, shooting past a triangular sign with an exclamation mark on it. Elizabeth could only make out the word .‘VERBOTEN” as she raced forwards. Then she brought her knees together with a crash. Taylor had headed down the steepest, largest mogul field she’d ever seen. Her breath coming short, Elizabeth twisted, jumped, landed, twisted. Every muscle was shrieking for mercy. Jack Taylor was a big, strong man, and jumps he took easily Elizabeth strained to clear.

Panting for breath, she righted herself at the foot of the run. Taylor cut an S-bend between a boulder and a

 

I.I

 

shadow patch, heading down the mountain. Elizabeth followed grimly as he made for a boulder, shot over it, and soared into a twenty-foot jump due south, landing cleanly and hurtling forwards.

I don’t get it, Elizabeth thought as she flew into the air. Where’s the break in the trees?

Jesus! Oh, Jesus! There isn’t one! That maniac is heading straight into the forest!

She was going too fast to think. Jack shot into the trees and Elizabeth, terrified, shot after him, hugging his trail as close as she could. Suddenly the bright glitter of the mountainside disappeared, and she was swallowed up by green, scented gloom. Elizabeth was dimly aware of the fresh snow piled on the branches, the twigs and cones snapping under her skis. Instinct took over as she lunged, ski’d, and thrust around the trunks, ducking under branches, making the fastest, sharpest turns she’d ever done in her life. No slalom ever invented could match up to this, and you took the slalom slow, not at Warp Factor Nine! Elizabeth tried to beat back the rising panic. Follow Jack. He’s got the trail. She kept her eyes on those wide shoulders, dodging rocks, hushes, branches. A crash at this speed would snap her legs like matchsticks, wrench a shoulder from its socket! Not only would she lose the World Cup, she might never ski again!

Then, blessedly, there was light. The trees thinned. She swerved right, left, right again and schussed out on to the clear snow.

Jack Taylor had pulled up a hundred yards in front of

her, resting on his poles and nodding in admiration. ‘Congratulations. That was some sharp skiing.’ Elizabeth sliced to a stop and ripped off her goggles. Scalding hot tears burst out of her eyes, cooling instantly against her flushed cheeks. She was sobbing, hyperventilating.

You bastard, you absolute bastard! I hate you!’ she spat at him.

‘Hey, come on. You did fine’

‘Is that your idea of a joke, Jack Taylor? Your stupid macho games could have fucking killed me!’

‘Honey, I wouldn’t have taken you any place you couldn’t handle. I’ve seen how you ski.’ He smiled at her. ‘That’s why I insisted you follow me. I was going first, so if you stuck behind me you’d be fine.’

‘Is that right.’ She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, furious with him, furious with herself for breaking down in front of him. Jack stretched out a hand towards her, but she was still seeing red. Angrily she

shoved his arm away and pulled up her goggles. ‘Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I—’

‘Jack, do me a favour and get lost,’ Elizabeth snarled, and thrust” off violently, skiing away from him down the

mountainside as fast as she could.

‘Wait! Elizabeth, stop!’

Taylor’s voice floated down towards her, but, still sobbing, Elizabeth ignored it. She had no idea where she was, but the lights of Kitzbiihel in the valley below gave her some sense of direction. She would schuss to the next ski area and ride a lift back home. Get to the hotel, calm herself down before the Hahnenkamm.

Jack had stopped shouting, but she could hear the faint hiss of his skis some way behind. Glancing round, she saw him settle into a crouch, as though desperate to reach her. As he saw her look at himi Taylor shook one pole frantically. She ignored him. Now he could try catching up with her.

She was hugging the mountainside, following the steepest gradient down. Powder snow plumed around her. The world was returning to what she knew and loved - whiteness and silence - except for—

A faint rumbling sound like a growling stomach.’


Nervously, Elizabeth looked up. Not thunder! A blizzard was all she needed.

The sky was still cloudy, but calm. And yet there it was again. Louder this time. Out of the corner of one eye, Elizabeth saw a rocky outcrop quiver. A pile of snow loosened and dropped heavily on to the slope.

Elizabeth slowed in an S-bend, suddenly petrified. Her face drained of blood.

There was only one explanation for that sound.

Jack Taylor was bombing after her at a speed which suggested he’d already figured it out.

Oh, Christ! She didn’t know where she was! Where this slope led! If it was a precipice, she was dead!

 

,

Elizabeth turned to the right, back the way she’d come, and pushed off with all her strength. She could see Taylor do the same—

And then it came! A deep cracking sound, a slow boom of breaking rock, with the ground under her feet quivering like jelly, and small pebbles and twigs falling

from the cliff-face behind her!

Avalanche!

Elizabeth’s body flooded with adrenalin. She pointed her skis straight ahead, crouching as low as she could safely go. Skiing for her life. Racing the snow.

Jack was heading hard right, motioning for her to follow. He knew the danger, and he came after me anyway, she thought miserably..Jack had risked his life to

try and save her, and now she’d probably got him killed. Oh, God, I’m sorry, Jack, I’m so sorry …

Her eyes were blurry with tears of terror. Sobbing, gasping, she blinked them away. She had to be brave! If she lost control, she was history.

Abruptly Taylor’s black-clad figure stopped and swung round, skiing towards her. Elizabeth schussed frantically forwards. My God, don’t come any further this way! she

 

I4

 

thought desperately. But he was barrelling her way, the heavy body plunging forwards.

As he reached her, another huge rumble shook the mountainside. Elizabeth’s head whipped round to see a vast, menacing wall of white, piled eighteen feet high, sliding steadily down the rock face above them, gathering speed and size with every foot. Mesmerised, she gazed at the tidal wave of snow, freezing like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights.

Jack Taylor’s big hand jerked her back to reality.

‘You shouldn’t have come for me! Jack, I’m sorry,’ Elizabeth gasped.

‘Tell me later, OK, sugar? Let’s go. This way,’ Jack said shortly, and jetted off to the right. Elizabeth followed blindly.

‘This slope leads to a cliff edge!’ Taylor yelled, as they bombed d3wn the mountain together. ‘We need to get to the right! You have to outrun it! Point your skis straight down and just wing it, OK?’

‘OK!’ Elizabeth managed. She copied him, pointing her ski-tips straight downhill, leaning into the gradient, sticks tucked under the arms. Downhill racing was instinct and gravity. If you were thinking about it, you weren’t going fast enough.

‘Get to the forest!’ Taylor shouted.

Elizabeth headed after him, rocketing towards another grove of trees. Her body was soaking in sweat, but it wasn’t enough. Behind her the avalanche had hit the slope and was cruising forwards, its mammoth weight hissing as the air rushed past the towering snow-wall. She didn’t need to look round to see how fast it was gaining a black shadow loomed over the ground in front of her, silent as death.

Jack was nearly at the trees now. She had two hundred yards to go. To her left, the slope finished abruptly, dropping down into a rocky chasm a mile deep. The

 

avalanche was closer, closer, gently nudging her towards the precipice. She wasn’t going to make it. Desperately, Elizabeth pushed to the right, towards the trees at the edge of the cliff. Jack was standing three yards into the forest, his arms wrapped round a tree trunk. The forest could resist twenty foot of snow, but she couldn’t! The breath sobbed in Elizabeth’s throat as she saw snow spattering across her skis; was engulfed in the shadow of the avalanche. She’d failed by a few feet, she was going to die. Air shot out of her lungs as the snow hit her, freezing, heavy, and she waited to be swept into the voidm

But something held her back.‘A hand, .]ack’s hand, his vast palm clamping her left wrist, strong fingers like a vice around it.

Elizabeth’s body was flung forwards, her skis knocked off balance, right pole ripped from her grasp, but she didn’t fall. Jack Taylor was holding on to her wrist with a mighty grip. Her arm burned agonisingly as it took the full weight of her body. She couldn’t scream, because her routh was muffled with snow. For a few horrible seconds, the avalanche trundled over her back, pressing her down into the slope. She thought she might pass out from the pain and terror, but bit her lip to keep herself conscious.

And then suddenly there was light, the weight bearing down on her slid away, and as she sucked air into her lungs the wave of snow teetered slightly and crashed slowly, unhurriedly, into the ravine.

Jack pulled her up, away from the cliff edge. Her shoulder socket screamed and she scrambled forwards with her legs. Taylor was holding on to a tree trunk with his left hand, his right hand clutching her. She could see every muscle in his arms rigid with the effort. He had been a human bridge, clutching her against the force of the snow.

 

Elizabeth flung herself into his arms.

‘You didn’t let go, you didn’t let go!’ She was crying, her whole body trembling against him. ‘Jack, you saved my life!’

‘We all make mistakes,’ Jack Taylor said.

Then he tilted her face up to his, and kissed her, hard.

IZ7

Chapter 13

Jack bore down on her, kissing her frozen mouth open, the tip of his tongue tracing a fiery line across her bottom lip. One arm was circling her back, pulling her to him, and one was cupping her ass and sliding up and down her thigh. Elizabeth felt burning warmth rush through her icy flesh as his body warmed hers. His chest was rock hard, his strength incredible. Jack was sucking snow crystals from her mouth as he kissed her and Elizabeth found herself flooded with a different kind of heat, a wet rush of lust that curled like smoke in the pit of her stomach.

She’d never been with a man like this. All the suave, .Eurotrash men she’d ever dated with their flowery compliments and sexual proficiency had never affected her like this man who was crushing her to him. Jack was handsome, brilliant and fearless. He was also a stubborn, ruthless bastard.

Elizabeth told herself to go slow, but her muscles were melting with longing. She felt weak against such raw male strength. Pleasure fluttered across her groin. Despite herself, she moaned softly at the back of her throat, pressing herself against him.

Taylor’s hand immediately slid up over the tight, cold red Lycra of her skisuit, his huge paw brushing her breasts softly, teasing the tips of her nipples. Elizabeth gasped as a burst of heat exploded between her thighs. Glancing down, she saw the outline of his erection and her eyes widened. He was massive, not just long but thick, too. It frightened her a little.

 

xz8

 

What did you expect, with a man this size? Elizabeth asked herself, but then Jack moved forward to cover her, pressing her back against the tree roots. The rough bark prickled against her back, breaking the tension just long enough for Elizabeth to gather her thoughts.

You nearly died. You’re not thinking straight. You can’t sleep with Jack Taylor! You only just met him!

Firmly she pushed against his chest, shaking her head. ‘Jack, no.’

He leaned back a fraction. ‘What’s wrong, sugar?’ ‘We can’t do this.’

‘We can do anything we want,’ Taylor said. His brown eyes were full of hunger for her, glittering with desire. Elizabeth dropped her eyes. She couldn’t look at him.

‘You just saved my life, Jack. I - I’m not clear-headed. I don’t even know you!’ .She was stammering out explanations. ‘And-we have to get back to Kitzbiihel! I’ve lost a ski-pole and I’m racing in three hours!’

Jack stared at her for a second, then sighed and stood up. He stood with his back to her and took a deep breath, trying to stamp out the fire blazing in his groin. Liz Savage wanted him. He could feel it in the hot flush of her skin, the tantalisingly erect nipples. His cock was so hard it ached. Jesus, how he wanted her. He wanted to nail her right there on the snow, peel that teasing Lycra off her and just fuck her brains out. Kiss her mouth off. Stroke her and lick her until she begged him to take her …

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