Page 46 of Mountain Summons

It just meant they had to find new ways of doing it.

He realized he hadn’t answered her question. “I think the doctor will beveryimpressed with my recovery when I see him tomorrow,” he said, sliding his hands down her back.

She arched into him like a cat, a soft little noise slipping from her throat.

It was yet another discovery. Another thing that belonged only to him.

Lena huffed out a quiet laugh, her lips brushing his collarbone. “Hopefully, you’re not going to share exactly how this recovery came about.”

Tristan smirked, his fingers sliding lower to grasp her beautiful ass. “That depends.”

She tilted her head, her hazel eyes suddenly suspicious. “On what?”

“On whether he asks the right questions.”

She snorted, but the sound was cut off as he flipped her onto her back in one smooth movement, settling over her. Her breath hitched. Her pupils dilated.

“I think,” he murmured, bringing his lips down to meet hers, “we should probably keep some things private.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, slow and teasing, dragging out the anticipation.

“Mmmm…” Lena’s mouth opened and his tongue slipped inside. He wanted to keep the kiss light and fun, as it’d begun, but the heat of her mouth dissolved any self-control he may have had.

God, he wanted her.

He now knew he was never going to get enough of her. In fact?—

A cell phone buzzed on the bedside table. It took him a long moment to realize it was his. Lena reached it before he could. “Here.”

His mother’s name flashed on the screen.

“Tristan. So glad you’re not at work.” He felt a sharp moment of guilt when he realized he hadn’t told his parents that he was on medical leave. He hadn’t wanted to worry them, but he also … he hadn’t wanted to share this time with anyone other than Lena.

“Is everything okay,Maman? Are you and Father back in town?” She sounded calm, but then, she always sounded calm. His mother waszennesspersonified.

“Not yet,” his mother replied smoothly. “We’re still in Geneva. We should be back next week. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

Tristan sighed, running a hand down his face. He could feel Lena beside him, still warm, still pressed against him, still so damn distracting.

He forced himself to focus as his mother paused. It wasn’t hesitation, exactly—his mother wasn’t the type to hesitate—but something measured. “I need you in Basel two weeks from now.”

Basel? Hell, no.“Maman, you know I don’t do events.“

“It’s your father’s sixtieth birthday, Tristan. He’s going to be showing a new watch, and I would like us there to support him.”

He was tempted to remind his mother that Amaury was his adoptive father, not his biological father, but thankfully, the petty thought never made it past his lips. For better or worse, Amaury was the only father Tristan had ever known, since his biological father—an early member of the PGHM—had died in an avalanche before he was even born. And Amaury had been as good a father to Tristan as he was capable of being. Tristan knew this.

“I don’t do events,Maman,” he repeated.

“You don’t do events,” his mother said, her tone as smooth as silk—and just as unyielding. “I seem to recall you saying the same thing last year. Which was fine. I didn’t force you to come then. But this time, I need you to be there, Tristan.”

Tristan exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers to his temple. His mother rarely asked him for anything.

Lena shifted beside him, propping herself up on one elbow, watching him. She’d pulled up the sheet, so he could no longer see the beautiful curve of her breasts. But he could still feel her warmth against him.

“Maman,” Tristan said, keeping his voice measured. “Please don’t ask this of me.” The weight of expectation, of polished suits and crystal glasses and conversations about limited-edition Swiss craftsmanship, pressed down on him like a suffocating force.

“This isn’t about the watches, Tristan. It’s about your father. He wants you there.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He could feel Lena beside him, studying with quiet curiosity.

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