Alpine Affair

One : Arrival

As our helicopter touched down smoothly on the landing pad, I gazed out the frosted window at the Swiss Alps stretched endlessly before us bathed in the soft, golden light of the winter afternoon sun.

We had landed in a valley cradling our destination: Le Glacier Royale, a resort tucked into the mountainside and our home for the next month. This wasn’t my first time here, but every visit was an experience that took my breath away and after hours of traveling—private jet, luxury SUV and finally, the helicopter—it felt almost unreal to finally be here.

“I hope you’re ready for this, my dear.” Leo—my absolute best friend—said, unbuckling his seatbelt and stretching his arms above his head with a small groan.

I adjusted my cashmere scarf, catching a glimpse of myself in the cabin window as I did so. The reflection showed I had a touch of rose in my cheeks from the cold whilst my eyes were bright and a little too wide from lack of sleep and overall excitement. Giving my reflection a slight frown, I turned away.

“Ready for a month of sheer relaxation? Of course I am.” I intoned as the pilot turned off the engines.

“I mean our debut as a couple.”

“It’s not like this is our first time.”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he reached over, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We do make such a lovely couple.” He teased. “Really dear, you should be thanking me for making you look good.”

“I always look good and you know it.” I huffed, swatting his hand away. “And anyway, you should be thanking me. This place will be crawling with eligible ladies who’d love to have their wicked way with you if I weren’t here.”

He chuckled with a little shudder as he exited the helicopter. “Yes, and don’t I know it. My i********: has been flooded with messages from said ladies, despite our fake relationship.”

“The snake infestation is getting worse every year....” I muttered as I followed him out.

I breathed in deeply, the mountain air sharp and pure, and a thrill ran through me despite myself at the icy chill. The resort was gorgeous as always, its sharp angles and dark wooden beams lit by warm golden lights that made it look like something out of a dream against the backdrop of endless snow. The exclusivity of the resort was the true appeal, of course. Guests could lose themselves in this place without a care for the outside world—for a very heft price. But that meant no paparazzi and no probing eyes, just a season hidden away in a winter fortress where one could be themselves among likeminded peers.

We made our way down the private path from the helipad and was met by a staff member dressed in a tailored winter coat with the Glacier Royale insignia displayed proudly on his lapel. He immediately scrambled to take Leo’s travel bags, clearly starstruck, and I repressed the urge to roll my eyes as Leo, predictably, didn’t so much as acknowledge the man’s existence, his focus fixed entirely on surveying our surroundings.

“Here.” I said curtly, switching to English as I shoved my bag into the staff member’s hands. “Be careful with that—it’s limited edition.”

“Of course, Miss Marchand!” He chirped eagerly.

Leo sighed, drawing my attention back to him. “Remind me why we’re doing this?” He asked lowly.

“Because you need a fake girlfriend, and I need a change of scenery from the heat of Dubai. Now no more French. You know how odd people get these days when they hear something other than English.”

He rolled his eyes and quickly switched to our second language, his accent adorably thick.

“This place will be bombarded with Americans this season, I can feel it.” He grumbled. “The day Antoine opened invites outside of Europe I feel the whole place has become so… So…”

“None-European?” I supplied.

“Exactly!” He huffed with mock exasperation. “I hope you’re prepared for a wave of new money who’d rather discuss hedge funds than have a good time.”

I pretended to gag. “If I have to hear one more story about someone’s latest tech acquisition I might just fake my disappearance and run away to Tuscany. Perhaps join a nunnery.”

He laughed, linking his arm with mine as we made our way through the grand entrance. The resort doors opened and we were greeted by a rush of warm, fragrant air. The space inside was every bit as exquisite as I remembered, with polished marble floors, soaring ceilings and an opulence that was perfectly in line with Le Glacier Royale’s reputation. Staff members moved efficiency, offering trays of mulled wine and warm towels upon arrival and I accepted a mug gratefully.

A concierge appeared moments later, his posture impeccably straight as he offered a polite bow.

“Welcome, Mr. Rousseau, Miss Marchand,” He greeted smoothly. “If you would kindly follow me, I will escort you to your accommodations.”

He led us down a corridor and out of the warmth of the lodge to the outside once again where we followed a heated stone path, the faint warmth underfoot keeping the biting cold at bay as our boots sloshed through the melted slush. I paused as a snowflake landed on my sunglasses and pulled them off with a soft sigh, the cold air nipping at my cheeks as I squinted against the sudden brightness. Leo, standing beside me, waited patiently as I attempted to clean off the moisture with my damp sleeve.

“This way, please.” The concierge urged politely.

“Impatient, isn’t he?” Leo tutted.

I slipped my sunglasses into my coat pocket. “No doubt everyone is arriving and the poor mans rushed off his feet.”

We obediently continued to follow, the faint wet sound of melted snow beneath our boots echoing in the stillness. As we walked a little further, Leo leaned in to murmur again in French.

“So… Aleksi is still arriving tomorrow, yes?”

I raised a brow, feigning offense. “Bored of me already?”

“Of course not!” He protested with a dramatic gasp. “But he is my actual lover, and I miss him dearly.”

“I know you do.” I said softly. “And yes, he’ll be here tomorrow. I hope he appreciates that I gave up my own stylist’s spot for him on this little getaway. I haven’t been apart from Lise in months. The woman is a hair genius.”

“I’m sure Aleksi will be eternally grateful. And if not, I’ll remind him of your noble sacrifice every chance I get.”

“Be sure you do, because if I have a hair crisis, I’m blaming you.”

Our guide stopped and we immediately fell silent as we took in the private cabin we’d be calling home for the next few weeks. It stood grandly against the winter landscape, three floors of wood and stone perfectly blending with the snowy surroundings. It had a classic alpine charm, but with an unmistakable edge of modern luxury: wide, wrap-around porches with wooden railings dusted in powdery snow, floor-to-ceiling windows glowing warmly from within and sheltered overhangs that protected the porch from the snowfall.

Out back, we were promised, nestled into the corner of the porch was a hot tub along with a stone fire-pit surrounded by warm seating. A small, paved path led from the back of the cabin down to the frozen lake, which was lined with other private cabins like ours, each one shrouded in the serene quiet of the dark winter woods that surrounded them.

We were ushered inside our cabin and the warmth enveloped me immediately as we crossed the threshold.

Swapping bulky snow-boots for plush slippers, we took in the interior, which was even more stunning than the outside. There was an expansive, open-plan space that stretched across the entire first floor with a sleek, state-of-the-art kitchen that dominated one side and a spacious, sunken living area taking up the other. The floors were wide-planked hardwood, softened by woven rugs in earthy, muted tones and exposed beams lined the high ceiling, adding to the cozy, rustic feel.

Two wet rooms flanked the front and back entrances, complete with benches, hooks for winter coats and racks for boots. Just off the entryway was a powder room, its fixtures gleaming beneath warm light. A roaring fireplace dominated the living room wall, its stone surround reaching up to the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the buttery leather sofas and armchairs that were arranged in a circle, the fluffy throws covering them calling my name.

“You have a 24-hour team on hand.” Our guide announced with flourish. “They will arrive shortly to tend to your bags and, if our require, prepare a light meal.”

“We have our own staff arriving tomorrow.” Leo told him as he scrutinised the mini bar.

The man inclined his head. “This way, Sir and Madam. I’ll show you to your room.”

On the second floor, we were shown an elegant ensuite bedroom complete with a walk-in wardrobe and a private balcony that overlooked the snowy landscape below. Across from it was a spacious study, lined with shelves of books and decorated in a classic style, complete with a stately wooden desk and soft armchairs by the window. It had its own library wall—a stunning sight that made me almost want to curl up with a book right there. Down the hall was a second, smaller bedroom, clearly intended for staff or personal assistants.

As we reached the top floor we entered the master suite that spanned nearly the entire floor, with a king-sized bed draped in soft, textured linens, a lounge area with more seating and a private fireplace set against a wall of polished stone. The bathroom was a spa-like haven with a freestanding tub, dual sinks and a shower that looked like it could fit four people comfortably. The windows offered sweeping views of the frozen lake below, framed by the pine trees and distant slopes.

I glanced at Leo with a smile, nodding toward the massive suite as I lowered my voice in French. “This one’s all yours, darling. I think you and Aleksi will need it more to spare your poor assistant and me from listening to you both, hmm?” I winked.

“You’re a saint.” He said with a laugh, giving my hip a grateful tap where he held it. “Aleksi will be thrilled. And I’ll make it up to you with champagne and croissants every morning.”

I grinned, watching as the staff arranged our cases—which I planned to move when they left.

Retreating downstairs, I sank onto the living room sofa with a contented sigh, kicking off my slippers to tuck my feet under the plush throw I’d been eyeing.

“This week we’re the Parisian royalty of Le Glacier Royale.” Leo declared grandly as he plopped down beside me. “How do you feel?”

I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire. “Like I could get used to this.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me for the next few weeks.”

As though that was chore. I knew he was immensely grateful for the cover I was giving him and his boyfriend, Aleksi, but I’d do anything to help him. Plus, it certainly didn’t hurt that being his “girlfriend” spared me from the relentless matchmaking games that usually came with events like these.

“Now, tell me that we’ll at least get some decent entertainment out of this.” I inquired with a put-upon pout. “Last year I was too sick to attend and missed all the fun.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve heard this year’s guest list is the best yet.”

“Will it be like one big dysfunctional family reunion?”

He chuckled. “Isn’t it always? The Devereaux twins are bound to make an appearance, of course. Last year they arrived with matching fur coats and equally matching ‘friends.’” He raised an eyebrow, his expression conspiratorial. “Then there’s Lara Cross, she will of course be here if there’s even the smallest chance that any single men will, the little gold digger that she is. Oh, and apparently Elliot Frost will be making his first appearance this year, too.”

“Elliot who?”