THE HIGH ALTITUDE TRAP

Chapter 3: The High Altitude Trap

The private jet soared over the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies.. The air inside the cabin felt really thin.

​Elena sat across from Julian in a leather armchair. A glass of champagne sat on the mahogany table between them. For two hours they had been playing a high-stakes game of "Truth or Dare" without the dares. Julian had a file on her—names of her childhood pets, her GPA from design school, her favorite poet.

"You are really thorough, " Elena said. Her voice sounded tight. "Do you do background checks on all the women you date? Or am I special?"

Julian didn't look up from his laptop. "I don't date Elena. I get interested in people.. When I'm interested I do my research."

"I am not something you acquire, " Elena snapped.

"In the eyes of the public you are the woman who tamed the Vane beast " Julian said. He finally closed his laptop. He leaned forward, his gaze boring into hers. "To my brother you are the woman making me human. To Penelope you are a threat to the family's image. If you slip up once—if you forget that I'm allergic to shellfish or that I spent three years in London—she will ruin everything."

Elena leaned back, crossing her arms. "Fine. Let's talk about you then. You said you looked like a monster after the video.. You didn't apologize. You waited five years until you needed a merger. That's not a conscience, Julian. That's a calculation."

The cabin lights flickered as the plane hit turbulence. Julian's hand shot out steadying her glass. His fingers brushed hers—steady and strangely grounding. He didn't pull away immediately.

"The world sees what it wants to see, " he said. His voice dropped to a vibration that thrummed in her chest. "Five years ago I was under a lot of pressure to prove I was as tough as my father. I chose the target to prove it on. I can't change Elena's past Elena. I can only control the present."

"Fasten your seatbelts " the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. "We're beginning our descent into Aspen."

The "Vane Cabin" was a glass-and-timber palace perched on a cliff. Snow fell in silent flakes coating the world in a peaceful layer.

As they entered the foyer the smell of cedar and expensive vanilla greeted them. Silas and Penelope were already there draped in cashmere sipping mulled wine by a fireplace.

"There they are!" Silas beamed, pulling Elena into a hug. "The talked-about couple in New York. I have to say, Elena seeing Jules actually leave his office before midnight is a miracle only you could perform."

"Hes been very... Attentive " Elena lied, forcing a smile.

Penelope stepped forward, her eyes scanning Elena. "It's charming. Truly. Although Julian I was surprised to hear you're staying in the West Wing. It's so... Intimate. Especially for a couple that recently reconnected."

Julian didn't miss a beat. He slid his arm around Elena's waist pulling her close. The heat of his body was startling against the mountain chill. "We've wasted time apart, Penelope. I don't intend to waste any more."

He led Elena toward the staircase. "If you'll excuse us, it's been a flight. We'll see you at dinner."

The moment they reached the suite and the heavy oak door clicked shut Elena spun out of his grip.

"You're enjoying this " she accused, gesturing to the room.

It was a masterpiece of luxury: a stone fireplace, panoramic views of the valley and a massive king-sized bed covered in white throws.

"I'm performing, " Julian said, shedding his overcoat. ". If you want your firm to survive I suggest you do the same. Penelope has already checked the guest list for the Aspen club. She's looking for holes in our story."

"I can't sleep in that bed with you, " Elena whispered.

Julian stopped mid-stride turning to look at her. The firelight played across his face making him look less like a CEO and like something ancient.

"Don't be a martyr, Elena. The bed is big enough that we won't have to touch. Besides, the walls here are thick. The staff talks. If the maid sees the pillows on the floor tomorrow morning the story breaks."

He walked toward the bathroom pausing at the door. "Take the side. I'll be out in ten minutes."

Dinner was a game of warfare. Penelope interrogated them on everything from their " date" to their plans for the future. Elena held her own drawing on her years of ghostwriting experience.

By the time they returned to the suite Elena was exhausted. She changed into her modest silk pajamas in the bathroom.

When she emerged Julian was already in bed propped up against the headboard with a tablet. He wore a pair of black pajama pants. His chest was broad, marked by a scar across his ribs.

Elena climbed into the side sticking to the edge of the mattress. The silence was deafening, broken by the crackle of the dying fire.

"The scar " she said softly. "Where is it from?"

Julian didn't look up. "A reminder that I'm not invincible. A car accident, ten years ago. My father was driving."

"I'm sorry, " she murmured.

"Don't be. It's the thing he never gave me that stuck." He turned off the tablet. Slide down under the covers. "Go to sleep Elena. We have the hike at dawn."

Elena closed her eyes. Sleep wouldn't come. She was aware of the man inches from her—the scent of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Hours passed. The fire faded to embers. Elena had finally drifted into a sleep when a muffled sound startled her awake.

It was a whimper.

She turned her head. Julian was tossing his brow furrowed in sweat. He was trapped in a nightmare, his hands gripping the sheets.

"No, " he muttered, his voice thick with vulnerability. "Not her. Anything. Her."

Elena hesitated, reached out her hand hovering over his shoulder. "Julian? Julian woke up."

As her fingers touched his skin his eyes snapped open. In the light they weren't cold or slate-blue—they were wide with raw terror. Before she could react his hand shot out grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him.

"Elena?" he gasped, his breath hot against her face.

"It was a dream " she whispered, her heart racing.

He didn't let go. His gaze searched hers and for a heartbeat the billionaire vanished. There was a man who looked broken. He leaned on his forehead resting against hers.

"Don't leave, " he rasped.

The wasn't a nightmare. It was the fact that for the time, in five years Elena didn't want to pull away.

Then the door handle turned.

"Julian? Elena?" Silas's voice called out from the hallway. "The alarm system is tripping I think there's—"

The door swung open. Silas stood there frozen as his eyes landed on his brother pinned against the wedding planner their faces inches apart.

"Oh " Silas whispered, his face turning pale. "I... I think I just realized why the cameras are outside."