About J.K.

CHAPTER ONE

Base Camp, Mount Everest 

They’d traveled the globe with very different intentions, but tonight, they shared an agenda. He’d joined the 

Mile High Club years ago and had renewed his membership on the flight here from Heathrow. Though he'd set his sights on conquering the planet's tallest mountain, his focus right now was on this beauty. 

“You’ve got the face of an angel,” he told her. She grinned, intrigued. “And you a devilish one.” The beer and Jäger at the party in the mess tent had washed away the numbing elevation headaches of 18,000 feet above sea level and helped ward off the cold as they headed to the intimacy of his faded yellow tent. After removing their gloves, bulky jackets, thin layers of hi-tech shirts, and thermal underwear, he crawled into his sleeping bag and held it open, inviting her to follow. 

“Come on, luv, it’ll be much warmer in here once we get moving,” he said with a grin of his own, but he quickly realized her focus had shifted from sex. 

“This would be the most magnificent place in the world if it weren’t for the debris left from here to the summit,” she said with a subtle French accent. 

“Come on,” he said again. She had zipped the tent’s entry closed, but now slid her jacket back on and crawled over to it, dropping the zipper far enough to look toward the peaks that rose into the night sky. The moon lit them beautifully as the peaks pointed to the blanket of stars above. 

She sat back onto her legs, zipped the opening closed again, and shook her head. 

“You climbers just have to stop crapping on her,” she whispered, and at his request said it again, loudly, as she turned toward him. They had already touched on this topic earlier in the evening. They first met while climbers who had made it to the summit celebrated among those preparing for the climb and those drowning their sorrows in beer and whiskey, licking their wounds after failing to make it to the top. 

“I told you before, all the Sherpas will clean this up before they leave, luv,” he said. “They always do.” 

She looked at him, and her attention shifted back to where they’d been headed when they left the gathering. It was getting late. The winds had died down as quickly as they had come. The sun would rise soon, and the Sherpas would unzip the entry flap to deliver hot tea and prepare to climb another 2,000 feet to Camp One. 

“Listen, Eve, I promise you that I will not leave until every bit of trash and debris is cleaned up as far as we can see it, I swear,” he offered. “It’s cold. Come on in and let’s at least cuddle.” 

She was shivering now, and his warmth in the sleeping bag, and whatever might come of it, seemed too inviting to pass up. She slid her focus back from the debris to the condom he handed her as she slid into the orange bag. 

After they finished, as Eve lay there half asleep, she watched her British lover crawl out of the warmth and unzip the tent to get rid of the beer he’d had a few hours earlier. She heard him utter something but didn’t understand. 

“What was that?” 

His voice rose as he removed the used condom and threw it into the night air. He had gotten what he wanted, and there was no need for good behavior or putting on a proper front anymore. 

“I said, I’ll leave it to you to go find this one since you’re so worried about the damn debris!” 

As he turned toward her, the sleepy look on his face turned to pure terror. 

In an instant, it was over. 

Don’t worry; the sherpas will dispose of you too. Adieux