Last updated on 2022-03-15 at 21:12 pm - Estimated reading time 00:42:42
The news was not good. Since the airport had gone into reduced service, all transatlantic flights were being diverted to Geneva and, as Christmas approached, Aubrey’s airline was still unable to provide her with a flight back to Miami.
Outside, the snowstorm seemed to be increasing in intensity, yet far from worrying about it, she was taking full advantage of this forced vacation to spend a few more days in this charming little hotel in the heart of the Swiss mountains where her very first trade seminar had been held.
The hubbub of the dinner had long since given way to silence and now that the room had emptied, only the glow of the embers in the fireplace dimly lit the armchairs in the small living room. Lulled by the pleasant warmth of the fireplace, she had simply curled up comfortably on a sofa before dozing off. The blaze of the beginning of the evening had gradually softened, and while the fire gradually burned itself out, the declining temperature of the room had drawn her from her sleep.
Abandoning for a moment her warm blanket, dropping it at her feet, she stoked the fire, adding a few large logs. She was now certain that what was there would burn the remainder of the night. Then, as hypnotized by the dance of the flames which seemed to play on the burning logs in the fireplace, in her turn, she benefited fully from being able to bask in front of the fire which spread slowly to the wood she had added, extending her arms overhead, stretching her lithe form gracefully while basking in the nurturing warmth of the fire.
Aubrey caught a whiff of something pleasant, but it was also an aroma that she couldn’t quite place. Before she could discover its origin, a deep voice called out to her.
“I expect that you have often been told that you have beautiful curves”
Turning abruptly, her gaze was drawn to the glow of a pipe in the shadows of the room.
“Who’s there? What do you want?” she asked, disturbed by this unexpected presence.
In the dim-light, she thought she recognized the silhouette of a man in one of the armchairs, but as he was backlit she was struggling to distinguish his features. He was large with the appearance of a lumberjack, only something strange seemed to sparkle in the middle of a thick black beard. She stood for a moment, staring at him, while the impassive man was still drawing on what looked to be a long wooden pipe.
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