Champagne Romance (Romance Novel)

Published by Suellen Smith at Romance Novel
Publishing

Copyright 2012 Suellen Smith

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CHAPTER 1

“
Here’s to champagne cocktails and
chocolate covered studs!”

The quiet laughter and tinkling of four
champagne flutes vibrated throughout the atmosphere of the elite
restaurant as tuxedoed waiters scurried about giving their chic
clientele the service they expected. In the center of the room sat
four fashionable dressed young women under the twinkling
chandeliers. They drew the attention of every mature male that
wasn’t nearsighted, farsighted, or partially blind. Heads swiveled
as each male patron strained his neck to peek among the marble
statues, lime green palms, and fresh colorful flowers that graced
the crisp white tablecloths. Each gentleman was trying to get a
better glimpse of the four hot chicks that were toasting and
roasting. Most weren’t even trying to be discreet. Even the waiters
were not too busy to be immune by each lady’s physical attributes,
charm, and beauty.

Troy Slater was no exception. He glanced up
at precisely the moment the redhead chose to cross her shapely long
limbs. Troy leaned back slightly in his chair and shifted to get a
better view of those legs and the one they called Swan. He liked
what he saw. The redheaded bombshell with the lanky legs wore a
silky black nylon held-up by only a skimpy piece of a black lacy
garter belt. The creamy white thigh beyond the black silk looked
smooth and touchable.

“
Isn’t that right, Slater?

Troy’s black eyebrows snapped together in a
stormy piecing scowl. To the skinny young man’s credit with the
bowtie and glasses, he held Slater’s gaze steady. Slater wondered
cynically if he’d ever had a “hard on”. He reached in his pocket
for a cigarette and reluctantly turned his attention back to
business.

Swan tucked a wayward lock of her strawberry
blond hair behind her ear as she fiddled with the crystal stem of
her champagne cocktail. It was her birthday. Her three best friends
had flown into Denver, Colorado from Newport Beach, California.
Swan was on a modeling job for a trendy ski magazine in the frosty
city. Her close friends had come to help her celebrate as they
never missed each other’s birthday.

Swan looked around the table at her three
devoted companions thinking how very fortunate she was to have such
fabulous friends as that had not always been the case. There was
Madeline, an upper class, bored, suburban housewife, Katherine
(Kat), a divorcee always looking for a rich Mr. Right, and Lillet,
a devoted mother of two who worked as a local talk show hostess on
TV. Last, was the birthday girl, Suzette Swan Swenson, a current
metropolitan survivor in the world of runway and modeling---and one
of the last surviving virgins could be added as well.

Suzette Swan Swenson was named after her
maternal grandfather, Libourne Swan---but, just “Swan” quickly
became her trademark in reference to her long crane neck in the
professional world of modeling. She modeled all over the world. She
had a face and figure that belonged in every man’s dream fantasy
and probably was.

Swan’s skin was flawless--like porcelain. Her
eyes were aqua with a black ring circling the iris. Long dark sooty
eyelashes lined the edge of each eyelid that were almost too big
for her oval face and high cheekbones. Her hair was the color of
sunshine--shiny and golden---not blond, not red, but a natural
strawberry reaching past her creamy shoulders with soft flaming
curls that framed her face. Her curvy figure was perfect for runway
modeling with generous “B” breasts, hips that flared slightly, and
straight shapely long legs that seemed to go on forever. Her famous
white neck looked smooth and kissable as did her rosy heart shaped
lips. Although her face and figure were flawless--she was not. Life
always has a way of playing jokes on mankind and sadly she was not
an exception.

CHAPTER 2

Swan hugged her long winter coat close
to her slim lush body as she exited the plush hotel of her
temporary lodgings. She pulled the fluffy fox collar up around her
face to help shield it from the blast of winter wind coming off the
Rocky Mountains. She was grateful that her elderly friend had given
her the fur coat that was now considered vintage. Winters in
Colorado could be vicious. Today was not an exemption. She had
finished doing an “ad” layout using the majestic purple mountains
outside of Denver. It was for
Indigo
Elite
an “in” magazine that caters to the rich and
famous. It was not unusual for her to fly all over the world to
arctic climates for her modeling assignments. So, she was generally
well prepared for cool wintry changes, but that didn’t make the
nippy frosty air any more enjoyable.

At the present, Swan was concentrating on
holding her coat closed with one hand and hailing a taxi with the
other. It was obvious that she was going to the Denver airport as
she stood between two small “carry on” pieces of generic black
luggage. She was thrilled to finally be going home and excited that
she would not be working during the Christmas season. At the
present, she looked forward to landing at the John Wayne Airport in
Orange County California by late evening. If she used her
imagination, she could already feel the hot sun penetrating her
entire torso and the warm sandy beach between her toes, which was
only a few short steps from her posh condo that looked across the
deep blue Pacific Ocean to the Island of Catalina.

Finally, a yellow cab appeared and pulled to
the curb. Swan climbed into the roomy back seat as the driver
loaded her luggage, slammed the cabby trunk, and zoomed off to
Denver’s metropolitan airport. She gave a sigh of relief knowing
that her destination was almost complete.

CHAPTER 3

Slater had been in Denver for the past few
days closing a deal to merge another company with Global Genetic
Research Incorporation. He started his successful business over
four years ago. It was a flourishing research firm that was located
in scenic Newport Beach, California where he had established his
permanent home. His impressive four- story business building was
surrounded by sunny ocean palms and overlooked the Pacific. It had
been a very lucrative venture, which in turn had made him a wealthy
man. Today, he was looking forward to returning home tonight as he
was impatiently awaiting the challenges that this new merger would
entail.

Because Slater completed his business
transaction much sooner than he anticipated, he was now headed for
the Denver airport. He usually flew his own small private jet, but
due to a fuel gauge problem, he opted for safety and booked a round
trip ticket from Newport to Denver before he left yesterday.

Slater enjoyed flying his own aircraft with
his own capable hands. That way, he could always be in control.
Slater liked being in control. Maybe, that was why he ended
relationships long before the “M” word came up or maybe he always
deliberately chose the party girls that knew “the score”. Besides,
sexy and buff at thirty-three, he enjoyed his bachelorhood status
and unattached freedom.

This evening, eager to avoid the inclement
weather and predicted blizzard, Slater had managed to get an
earlier flight back to California. It would give him more time to
spend at his ranch in Malibu north of Los Angeles over the weekend.
Slater’s ranch was his get-a-way, his private lodge. He shared it
with no one, not even his mistress when he had one.

Slater stepped out of the sleek limo and
pulled the sheepskin collar of his leather coat around his coal
black hair. His baby blues looked up at the gathering dark clouds
overhead and knew there was no doubt that Denver would soon be
covered with sleet and snow by evening. His only hope was that he
would be out of there before the airport authorities decided to
close the metro jumbo jet runway.

After battling a small crowd of passengers,
Slater felt fortunate to finally board Flight 330. It was the last
flight out of the chilly mountain city and it was fairly full. He
headed for a seat at the back of plane where no one was sitting,
put his bag in the overhead, stretched out his long legs, and
pulled his Stetson over his eyes signaling other passengers to find
another seat.

Swan was the last passenger to enter the 707.
The cabby had taken a “short cut”, which turned out to be a “long
cut”. She was grateful to finally be boarding. She didn’t want to
spend half her winter vacation in the Denver airport. She headed to
the back of the plane. It was supposed to be the safest spot on any
airline jet and that made it extremely desirable in this yucky
winter storm that seemed to be gathering in the atmosphere above
them.

Swan laid her fox fur over the double-seat
opposite of the “cowpoke” in his sheepskin duster. Funny, she would
have pegged him for an urban cowboy if it weren’t for his well-worn
western boots. A quick judgmental assessment told her he eluded
pure sexuality---just the type of macho man she purposely tried to
avoid.

Swan wore her most comfortable dress for this
night flight ride home. It was a mid-knee, button to the waist,
warm black cashmere with only a tiny ink black string bikini, and
no bra for comfort. She didn’t think anyone would notice. She was
wrong.

Slater rarely missed anything going on around
him. It was probably due to his Rambo days as a Navy SEAL. It was a
survival instinct. It also acted as a homing device for the
feminine female population and right now, it had definitely “kicked
in”.

Slater eyes roam lazily beneath the rim of
his Stetson over the dynamite redhead that was reaching into the
overhead compartment. He let his baby blues linger on her full
round globes with the tips that jetted out from the soft fabric.
Her nipples were larger than most. He liked that. As if sensing his
scrutiny, she turned her back to close off his view of her tits,
but that gave him a better view of her ass. He liked that,
too--round and curvy.

All too soon, the sexy redhead sat down and
proceeded to buckle in for the night. Closing his eyes, Slater
found himself wishing that Gorgeous Red were snuggling up to him in
a comfy warm bed at this very moment. He sighed, adjusted his
thoughts, and tried not to think about it.

Outside the airliner’s cabin, the ground crew
was in the frantic process of de-icing the plane’s body, wings, and
engine. The metal exterior was only given a quick once over as the
pilots needed to get the flight airborne before the impending
weather kept it grounded. That was unfortunate as they sat on deck
for another twenty minutes before being cleared for an open
runway.

The 707’s take off was uneventful in spite of
the icy sleet that was now coming down quite rapidly. Swan watched
out the airliner’s small window as the runway evaporated beneath
them and the commercial jet cut through the inky darkness quickly
becoming airborne to the desired altitude. She finally sighed a
small sigh of relief and began to settle down as a miniature yawn
tugged at her rosy lips.

Swan was soon sleeping soundly with her trim
feet encased in warm mukluks tucked under her and the fox fur
tucked cozily around her. The past few days had been extremely
demanding. So, now exhaustion was settling into every bone in her
body. The nap, however, was brief. Thirty minutes later, Swan was
dreaming peacefully when suddenly she found herself wide awake.
Something had awakened her. She had flown enough to know that
something was different! She listened for any unusual sound. There
it was---the plane engine seemed to be making a funny choking noise
as though it were coughing and missing out. Her instincts told her
that something was dreadfully wrong!

Swan made a quick glance at the cowboy across
the aisle. He was wide awake and sitting up straight, tense, and
listening as though he also knew that the massive motor did not
have the normal smooth hum. His body language did not reassure
her.

Abruptly, the bottom of the plane started
vibrating with a rubbing bumpy noise as though they were landing on
extremely rough terrain. It was not a good omen. A nightmare of
terror immediately erupted as the plane began rocking back and
forth. Overhead compartments started popping open. Luggage began to
fall. Objects flew through the air. A toupee flew overhead, which
might have been hilariously humorous at another moment in time.