Книга - Rebellion of a Chalet Girl:

Rebellion of a Chalet Girl:
Lorraine Wilson


Always the Chalet Girl…Year round chalet girl Tash doesn’t do attachments—she’s learned the hard way that relationships of any kind never last. But when self-made millionaire and hit TV star Nathaniel Campbell arrives to spend a month at Chalet Repos, she’s tempted to reconsider her no-strings rule…Tash and Nate may be from different sides of the tracks, but the connection between them is undeniable! And Tash soon realises that one hot night with Nate will never be enough. But can Nate ever think of Tash as more than a fling, especially once the truth about her past comes out?The Chalet Girls are back! Set in the exclusive Swiss ski resort of Verbier, winter playground of the rich and famous, ‘Rebellion of a Chalet Girl’ is the latest addition to the fabulous ‘Chalet Girl’ series.









Rebellion of a Chalet Girl


LORRAINE WILSON






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HarperCollinsPublishers

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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015

Copyright © Lorraine Wilson 2015

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2015

Cover design by Zoe Jackson

Lorraine Wilson asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Ebook Edition © March 2015 ISBN: 9780007558353

Version 2015-03-06


In memory of Celia Cady, 'mother' and lifeline to many.

Also special thanks to both the lovely team at Harper Impulse and to Catherine and Dawn for everything.


Contents

Cover (#u26b3fa2e-e282-50d9-9a5a-36a5a44319fe)

Title Page (#uf82b2415-fddf-59d3-a7f3-0aa65cb2d48f)

Copyright (#ud8ee17e8-f047-549b-aafc-6081d0ef7a35)

Dedication (#uc2acfe79-44fe-5767-8b17-4a4a8166a268)

Chapter 1 (#u944a721f-9079-57c0-a8cf-daa372b80403)

Chapter 2 (#u3bdac4f9-79be-5cca-a1bc-bf8c9d0191b9)

Chapter 3 (#ud5ee8ba2-d98b-5f77-9be2-de42bf1d665b)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Lorraine Wilson… (#litres_trial_promo)



Lorraine Wilson (#litres_trial_promo)



About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter 1 (#ub124c98c-23ed-5021-85a3-ca6680c26f3f)


Okay, Tash got it. There were some very important people coming to stay at Chalet Repos.

Blah-de-blah.

Did they really need yet another 'briefing' from Holly? And since when had she taken to scheduling briefings into the day anyway? You cleaned, you cooked and you were always polite to the guests. Even when they really, really hacked you off and you were hung-over. There wasn't much more to it, surely?

Tash could do this job in her sleep. Sometimes it felt like she almost did.

She nestled back into the comfy brown leather sofa and yawned. It'd been a late one last night and even once she'd got to bed she hadn't slept much. But then she caught Holly's gimlet eye and shrugged sheepishly in reply.

"So, you all get how important this is, right?" Holly asked, perched on the edge of an armchair covered with a faux fur throw, one hand resting lightly on her barely visible bump.

Everything's changing around here. Holly's pregnant, Sophie's moved out and engaged. And now we're having 'briefings.' Not to mention the rumours about the other changes that might be coming.

A wave of panic swelled in her chest, threatening to submerge her. Why couldn't things stay the same?

Tash's gaze fell on Rebecca, Sophie's replacement. Rebecca's high blonde ponytail bobbed up and down as she nodded earnestly at Holly, bright lipsticked smile in place. Amelia and Lucy also appeared bright-eyed, if not quite so bushy-tailed. Tash glanced back at Rebecca's hair. You didn't get hair that sleek and bouncy using supermarket’s own-brand shampoo and dying it yourself over the bathroom sink.

Tash examined one of her own split ends with a sigh. She didn't give a flying snow fairy what anyone thought about the home-dyed pink stripes on her mousy hair but it might be nice to get her hair done properly one day. If she could ever afford it.

"Tash?" Holly asked, eyebrows raised, a mixture of impatience and concern in her eyes.

"Um, no, not so much…" Tash admitted. "Aren't all our clients important? And I think we're pretty nice to them already. Just how extra nice do you want us to be exactly?"

She smirked and Amelia and Lucy sniggered. Only Rebecca remained straight-faced, hands folded primly on her lap.

Maybe the rich pay to have their sense of humour surgically removed too?

Holly rolled her eyes. "Not that nice obviously. Weren't you listening to anything Tash?"

Maybe she should plead this morning's hangover in her defence? On balance, probably not. Now Holly was pregnant and not drinking, her sympathy quota for hangover symptoms had been drastically reduced.

"I'm sorry, I got a bit distracted." Tash met Holly's stare. "I'm listening now."

They both knew she'd been tuning out a lot lately. Not to mention getting drunk as often as she could afford to. Mind you that was kind of tuning out on a bigger scale if you thought about it, something she tried very hard not to do. It wasn't illegal and was a hell of a lot safer than some of her other coping mechanisms.

Anyway this job was a doddle.

Until Holly had decided to rewrite the job description, that was.

"Hmm, I'll be testing you at the end." Holly raised her eyebrows a fraction.

Is she going to ask me to stay behind at the end? Put me in detention?

Tash suppressed a sigh; that thought wasn't fair. She owed so much to Scott and Holly. They'd been good to her. More than good, they were almost like family. As one of the longest standing chalet girls at Chalet Repos and the only one who got to stay all year round, Tash already got a lot of slack.

She'd never actually told Holly all the gory details about her past and growing up in care but Holly seemed to know she'd had a lot of serious crap to deal with. In her bleaker moments, Tash glimpsed an empathy in Holly's expression, a recognition and understanding of pain. Sometimes the weight of all the unspoken memories threatened to cave in on Tash but still she couldn't, wouldn't verbalise them. Where on earth would she start?

And what would be the point?

But the knowing light in Holly's eyes when they talked was a comfort. Maybe it was an understanding that came from having her own crappy family history to deal with. Holly and Scott knew Tash had nowhere else to go, no family to go home to and they'd kept her on to help with the cycling and hiking tours in the summer, taking care of her work permit. Not that they'd really seemed to need the help initially, but apparently that was about to change.

Everything was.

She stared across at Holly's small bump. It was ridiculous really, almost like she was feeling the insecurities of a toddler jealous of a new sibling but…well it was kind of how she felt. A part of how she felt at least.

Though she'd sooner die than admit it.

Amelia said she’d overheard them talking about expanding and discussing moving out of Chalet Repos when the baby was born so their room could be used as another guest room and they could have more space elsewhere. More privacy.

Where does that leave me?

"I'll give you the condensed version." Holly absent-mindedly stroked her bump, patting the fabric of her lime green hoodie. The colour contrasted well with her auburn hair. "These clients will have exclusive access to Chalet Repos for the whole of March. Although they may fly back to London a couple of times during that period and they'll also need shuttling to and from Geneva for meetings. They want to know everything about how we operate, the experience days we offer, what we feed our guests…everything. If they like what they see…well, this could be big for us. Really huge."

Holly's imploring gaze rested on Tash.

Because if anyone stuffs it up for them it's going to be me? Thanks Holly.

Tash stared down at the tan and white cow skin rug at her feet. Okay, so there'd been a few incidents the first season she'd been with Scott and Holly. When balding men with large beer guts and even larger egos made lewd remarks or tried to grope her bum like she was part of the services Chalet Repos offered, well it flicked a switch in her and she lost it. But still, she'd got a lot better about controlling her temper and it was hurtful they thought she'd do anything to screw this up for them.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you can trust us all not to mess up," Tash replied, swallowing down the hurt and meeting Holly's gaze again.

"Great." Holly smiled but a small crease in her forehead betrayed her persistent concern. "So if anyone in the group, you know, tries it on, just politely decline and come and tell me. Then I'll get Scott to have a firm but discreet word. But really, I can't imagine we'll have any of those sorts of problems. We're talking about a group of business professionals after all, not a stag do."

Tash snorted, looking sideways at Amelia. "I didn't hear anyone complaining about the last stag do group we had staying here!"

Amelia flushed pink but smiled. "Okay, you may have a point. I'd say Amy seems pretty happy with Josh. Did you hear about that Rebecca?"

"The chalet girl who ran off with the bridegroom staying here at Chalet Repos?" Rebecca asked. "Yes, Tash told me. And she mentioned that your boyfriend Matt was part of the same group."

"Well, Josh was Amy's ex," Amelia said. "And as for Matt and I, well…I wasn't going to say anything until we'd chosen the ring but…we're getting married. This is going to be my last season as a seasonnaire."

Amelia's smile became a smug 'I've snagged my man' grin.

Oh fantastic. Another one.

Tash ignored the savage twist in her gut and forced a smile to her lips. "That's great Amelia, congratulations."

Holly, Lucy and Rebecca dutifully exclaimed, squealed and crowded round to hug Amelia. Tash tried to get her emotions under control, focusing on a snagged nail on her little finger.

Everyone else is moving on…

"Well Matt was fantastic when mum was sick last year." Amelia smiled contentedly. "And he persuaded me I couldn't be a seasonnaire forever. I mean, it's been fun but it's time to grow up, you know?"

"Right," Rebecca said, nodding seriously, as though Amelia were dispensing pearls of wisdom instead of a baseless platitude.

Tash stared out through the plate glass window. The falling snow swirled, buffeted by strong gusts of wind. She couldn't shake a sense of unease so visceral it twisted again at her gut, sending anxiety coursing through her veins.

Why does everything have to change? Everything was fine as it was.

Holly disentangled herself from the others and made her way over to Tash. She sank down on the sofa next to her.

"Actually Tash, there's something else I needed to tell you." Holly laid a hand on Tash's arm, her diamond engagement ring and platinum wedding band prominent on her wedding finger. "I thought you and Rebecca could accompany the group on a couple of their experience days and generally show them around Verbier? You know, take them to places like the W. Make sure they have a really good time. Impress the pants off them."

Tash raised an eyebrow. Holly giggled and Tash couldn't help laughing too, even though she really didn't feel like it.

Holly's eyes lost their anxious expression, her face transformed by a relaxed smile. "Bad choice of words. I'd do it myself but I get so tired in the evenings at the moment and some days the so-called morning sickness lasts all day. I don't think throwing up on my shoes and then going to bed at nine o'clock would impress them much. You don't mind, do you?"

Tash hesitated. If only Holly had picked Amelia or Lucy instead of Rebecca to go along with her. But this was how Holly worked. Subtle, thoughtful and always working to keep the peace.

Holly's picked Rebecca because she hopes it will mean the two of us will finally start to get along.

She met Holly's eyes and was surprised to see a genuine concern for Tash’s approval.

Doesn't she know by now I'd do pretty much anything for her?

After all Tash could count on one hand the number of people she truly trusted, and have fingers left over.

Scary thought that the two people I care most about in the world are moving on without me.

"Of course I don't mind, it'll be fun." Tash smiled. "Stop worrying, it'll all work out fine and I'll help out any way I can."

It was time to step up.

It scared her, becoming needed, relied upon. Needing…It was bloody terrifying.

Maybe she should've moved on years ago, before she'd had time to grow close to anyone. After all she'd been at Chalet Repos longer than she'd stayed in any one place before. The longest settled spell in her entire life in fact.

Stop it Tash, no looking back remember? Thinking about anything too much is dangerous.

Holly disappeared down the corridor to the office, to the desk that stood back to back with Scott's. What must it be like to find someone you loved so much you could actually live and work with them and not want to kill them?

Anxiety made Tash jittery and she tugged again at her snagged nail, breaking it off far too low but not caring that it hurt. The blurring of the line between emotional and physical pain was dangerous. Not that this really counted but she could imagine what the official line would be. That it was the thin edge of a very dangerous wedge.

She was done with that, with the old Tash.

But boy was it tempting sometimes.

I need caffeine. Caffeine and some ibuprofen.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea when she was anxious but she needed…something and really, how harmful could one cup of coffee be?

"So girls, what do we think?" Lucy's bird like eyes gleamed. She'd tucked her feet beneath her on the armchair so she looked tinier than ever, dwarfed by an oversized rusty-red cable knit jumper pulled down to her knees over her leggings.

"What do we think about what?" Tash replied, resting her head back against the sofa and crossing her arms over her chest. "Are we talking about the engagement epidemic or the fresh new talent about to hit Chalet Repos? Sorry to disappoint you hun but a group of suits are not going to satisfy your heart's wicked desires."

"Who says they're wicked?" Lucy quipped. "Don't judge us all by your own standards. Some of us are actually looking for a meaningful relationship with a grown up."

Ouch.

Tash laughed to conceal the sting, fingers curling into her palms beneath her elbows, nails pressing hard against her skin. Lucy was only joking, but…

"I think it sounds really exciting. Do we know anything about them? Maybe it'll be someone famous if they're so important." Rebecca sighed, her pale blue eyes becoming dreamy. She crossed her legs demurely, back still ramrod straight like she'd been taught to sit like that at finishing school or Cheltenham Ladies College or whatever Sloanesville academy she'd sprung from.

Tash's jaw clenched instinctively, like it did pretty much every time Rebecca spoke.

God I miss Sophie.

"It won't be anyone famous." Tash rolled her eyes. "How many famous investors do you know? It'll be another group of poncy businessmen in fancy Saville Row suits and handmade shoes they can't get wet in the snow. They'll expect us to jump every time they click their fingers. If they can prise their fingers away from their BlackBerries that is."

"Now, that's where you're wrong," Amelia said, a slow smug smile creeping across her face. "The name the chalet is booked under is Nathaniel Campbell. I checked the bookings spreadsheet and then I googled him."

She paused, relishing the fact she'd got everyone's attention.

"Go on." Lucy nudged Amelia with her elbow. "Don't leave us hanging. You have been watching way too many elimination shows. It doesn't create tension, it's just annoying.”

"It turns out Nathaniel Campbell is on that programme In the Lion's Den. You know, the one where anyone under twenty-five with a business plan can go to beg for grants or internships. He's forty-eighth on the Sunday Times Rich List too; his specialty is buying companies with potential, turning them around, then selling them on again." Amelia grinned, eyes gleaming.

"You already have a fiancé, remember." Tash said quickly.

Sophie must've rubbed off on me. Who would've guessed I'd be the one taking the moral high ground?

But with Sophie gone someone had to do it. The gap Sophie had left when she moved in with Luc felt immense. And Rebecca certainly wasn't the girl to replace her. There was nothing immediately obvious to explain why, but it'd been apparent within days that Tash and Rebecca weren't going to be the best of friends. Well nothing obvious except for the huge gulf between their backgrounds. Tash had tried.

Sort of.

"I've seen The Lion's Den," Rebecca beamed like she'd just won the lottery. "I love that programme. Nathaniel Campbell is seriously hot. He's the sexiest Lion on the show."

"I haven't seen it. Have you Tash?" Lucy asked.

"No." Tash shrugged and got off the sofa.

But then I haven't been back to England since I was eighteen.

"How do you know it's the Nathaniel Campbell?" Tash stopped at the doorway and turned back towards Amelia.

"How many Nathaniel Campbells do you think there are with the kind of money you need to invest in Verbier property?" Amelia asked. "Anyway I found his most recent interview online and when asked about new projects he said he was taking some time out in the Swiss Alps to write a companion book for the series. That would explain why he's booked Chalet Repos for the whole month."

"Hmm. I need a caffeine fix.” Tash shrugged. “Coffee anyone?”

It was irrational to dislike a man she’d never met but telling herself so didn’t stop the stirrings of resentment.

Nathaniel Campbell was bringing change to Chalet Repos and that was a good enough reason for Tash.

"I've seen him, I've seen him," Rebecca squeaked, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Gone were her casual clothes, replaced by smart black wool trousers and a gorgeous aquamarine cashmere sweater. She even wore her tiny pearl earrings and a Tiffany pendant.

Her clothes whispered wealth and style.

"Great," Tash replied without enthusiasm as she pulled a clean navy hoodie on over her vest top, her sole concession to dressing up for the guests. She might not have been so irritated if Rebecca hadn't spent most of the previous evening talking about what she should wear and what Nathaniel Campbell would be like in real life.

Tash's mix of charity shop and cheap supermarket clothes felt like rags compared to the designer cashmere clothes Rebecca wore.

I feel cheap. In pretty much every sense of the word.

She wondered for the umpteenth time if she could last the whole season without cracking and pushing Rebecca down a black ski run.

Minus the skis.

It wasn't as if Rebecca even had to work, her father was a judge, they were minted. She even had a pony back home in Surrey for frick's sake.

Something tightened in her chest at the thought of it. A proper home. A safety net. Rebecca had it with bells on and Tash…didn't. Not that she expected life to be fair; she'd given up that hope long ago.

The familiar tension crept into Tash's jaw as she applied her eye shadow. Rebecca was doing the 'chalet girl thing' for fun because 'Daddy says I need to get a job. It's like, character forming, you know.'

Tash stared at Rebecca now in much the same way as she'd stared at her when she'd explained why she was at Chalet Repos, as though Rebecca had flown in from another planet, another universe even. It often felt like they spoke a different language.

"Do you really think some business mogul come TV star is going to take up with a poxy chalet girl?" Tash shook her head.

"Maybe." Rebecca grinned.

Tash tutted. "You have been watching too many romantic comedies."

There was a certain childishness to Rebecca's expression, a naïvety that stirred an unexpected protectiveness in Tash. She felt twenty years older than her, not the mere two years older she actually was. Rebecca was twenty-one but she seemed far younger than Tash had been at her age.

From what Tash had gleaned, Rebecca had seen practically nothing of the world outside her Surrey pony club idyll, private school and holiday villas in Tuscany.

She didn't seem to have a clue just how cruel human beings could be to each other.

Lucky her. Yet the lack of knowledge made her so vulnerable.

How can I hate Rebecca one minute and want to protect her the next?

Tash sighed. This was what dormitory living could do to you. Just the way someone else was breathing or humming along to their iPods could be enough to wind you up after two months of forced proximity.

Mountain Cabin Fever, Holly called it.

Rebecca rummaged in her make up bag for lipstick and applied it. When she smiled at Tash there was a pink smear on her front teeth.

"Wait." Tash touched Rebecca's arm, the cashmere super-soft beneath her fingertips. "You've got lipstick on your teeth."

It's not Rebecca's fault she isn't Sophie.

"Oh, have I? Thanks." Rebecca pulled out her compact mirror and a face wipe to remove the smear.

"Where are Amelia and Lucy?" Tash asked, making her way to the door.

"Already out there." Rebecca pushed her make-up bag beneath her bunk. "Wait for me."

Tash rolled her eyes as she waited, but not so as Rebecca could see. Tash wasn't a total bitch. Being friends with Sophie and Holly seemed to have sandpapered away some of her sharper edges.

But prickles aren't all bad. They keep you safe; just ask a hedgehog.

Had staying in one place for so long turned her soft?

In Chalet Repos' living area Amelia and Lucy handed flutes of champagne to men wearing dark suits and expensive leather shoes. Champagne at eleven in the morning? These guests must be considered important. But suits in a ski resort? Looked like she'd been right. There were four in the group, all with their backs to her. On closer inspection one of them turned out to be a woman in an androgynous trouser suit and a very short pixie haircut.

Tash lingered by the doorway, feeling out of place. Rebecca edged forward, fixed smile in place, trying to make her way to the front of the group. Tash cringed for her.

Could she be more obvious?

Tash decided to skulk at the back of the room, straightening a few faux-fur cushions on the sofas and hoping to be left alone if she looked busy. Delaying the inevitable and much dreaded small talk she'd doubtless have to engage in.

When the cushions were plumped and the throws straightened Tash headed to the fireplace and threw another fresh log on the fire, even though it didn't really need it.

She scanned the room for any other unnecessary jobs and met Holly's eye.

"Tash," Holly called out. "Come over here and meet Mr Campbell."




Chapter 2 (#ub124c98c-23ed-5021-85a3-ca6680c26f3f)


Why did you have to choose me to babysit this guy? I'm no good at this. No good at…suits. Give me a bar or a club and I can talk for England but not this…

The summons gave Tash no choice but to move reluctantly forward.

He's only a man.

Just a man.

Holly met her halfway and linked her arm through Tash's, as though afraid she was planning to leg it. Tash held her head high. No twat in a suit would intimidate her. Weren't you supposed to imagine people naked to make it easier?

Her stomach twisted over and her muscles tensed. Suits reminded her of officialdom, of all the adults who'd moved her around foster placements, who’d laid down the law and made decisions about her life without consulting her.

"Mr Campbell, this is Natasha…er, I mean Tash." Holly cleared her throat. Her nervousness somehow transmitted directly to Tash's stomach. "She'll be showing you round Verbier and getting you up to speed on all the experiences we offer guests."

Then Holly half shoved Tash towards the tall guy standing nearest them.

Tash looked up, forcing herself to look him directly in the eyes, annoyed by the nerves coursing through her body and determined not to show them.

Remember he's no better than you, just because he's wearing an expensive suit.

She'd expected a plastic man with an inflated ego and a TV tango tan but Nathaniel Campbell couldn't have been further from her imaginings. He had rugged features and was tall, powerfully built, like he'd been designed for the rugby field or maybe even a boxing ring, not an office.

There was a sharp intelligence shining in his flinty blue-grey eyes. A spark of desire tinged with fear sent a shiver of electricity the length of Tash's spine. She'd need to watch her step with this one.

He's nobody's fool.

Suddenly imagining him naked became a much more interesting proposition.

And it did nothing to relax her.

Worse still, as he focused all his attention on her it felt like he might be imagining her naked too.

He had an aura of power, a supreme confidence that Tash had been trying to fake her whole life. The difference was Nathaniel Campbell wasn't faking anything.

Stop acting like a crazed fan and act normal for frick's sake.

"Pleased to meet you." Tash held out her hand, pleased she'd finally remembered how to speak and co-ordinate her limbs. "By the way, nobody calls me Natasha, I'm Tash."

Amusement glinted in his eyes as he took her hand and shook it with a firm grip. Her hand looked tiny in his; she couldn't help staring at his hands. She'd experienced instant sexual attraction before but this was crazy.

Crazy stupid but sort of crazy good too.

It felt like the air had been squeezed out of her lungs. Electricity buzzed through her again but this time it was more of a shudder than a shiver. It felt, bizarrely, like there was no one else in the room. No one who mattered anyway.

It must be his famous charisma.

I'm as bad as Rebecca, I need to get a grip.

"Well lots of people call me Mr Campbell, or Nathaniel, but I prefer to be called Nate." His mouth twitched at the corners into an almost smile.

"And of course we have Mr Campbell's team - Mr Benson, Mr Smith and Ms Miller." Holly gestured to the rest of the group, her cheeks flushing pink as she sipped at her orange juice.

This isn't easy for Holly either.

"Please do call me Nate, we don't need to be formal." Nate turned and smiled at Holly. She received the full wattage of his smile and a pang of jealousy pierced Tash.

Watch it, you'll be acting as bonkers as Rebecca if you're not careful.

Yet on closer inspection his smile was that of a politician's; while genuinely warm and conveying that the recipient was the most important person in the room, there was a detachment in his eyes.

"And you must meet Rebecca." Scott stepped forward, resting one proprietorial hand on Holly's shoulder and gesturing to Rebecca with the other.

Rebecca shot forward eagerly, a pearly pink smile stretching widely across her face. She actually giggled when Nate took her hand.

Tash bit her lip. This was stupid. It wasn't like getting laid was a problem for her. Sex was…just sex. An urge, a bartering tool, an itch to scratch…She didn't need to get to know this man, there were plenty of others out there.

Ones who don't come with a health warning - Caution, this man could seriously affect your ability to string a sentence together and keep your pants on!

Hormones might be trying to hijack her body but she refused to act like a bitch on heat.

"I believe you know my father? Justice Crawley?" Rebecca simpered. "I'm sure he mentioned he met you at a political fundraiser."

Of course he did.

Tash resented Rebecca's instant elevation to the 'one of us club' just because of an accident of birth. It happened all the time in the Verbier trustafarian set. If a social connection could be established, if you'd been to the right school or knew someone in common, then you ceased to be 'below stairs.'

Ridiculous.

Even if I could afford the expensive clothes I'd still never fit in.

It was like they were still in the Middle Ages. How could anyone in the twenty-first century still believe birth into a certain class determined your worth?

It made Tash want to do very bad things.

"I believe I may have met Justice Crawley, yes." Nate replied gravely.

Yeah right, clever answer. Like he has a clue who Rebecca's talking about.

She narrowed her eyes at him and as though he sensed her looking he turned and met her gaze. A sharp jolt of connection surprised and thrilled her. A current passed between them, Nate's look so arrogant and knowing it made her insides squirm. When he looked away again she felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

Get a grip girl.

She'd never watched The Lion's Den. Surely anyone who wanted to be on TV had to have an ego the size of a planet? Yet, much as she wanted to, she couldn't dismiss him. He didn't suit the label she'd written for him.

Heart pounding, she stood back from the group, sipping at the flute of champagne Scott had handed her, bubbles dancing on her tongue. The champagne was expensive. Gaining favour obviously really mattered to Holly and Scott.

She could do this - be polite, show them around, be professional and not kill Rebecca in the process…

She stared at Rebecca who smiled coyly at Nate while touching him oh so casually on the arm.

Really? Maybe I'll have to revisit that 'not killing' part.

Tash snorted, quietly she'd thought, but Nate looked up and met her gaze from across the room, his stare piercing. Was there a flicker of understanding there? A shared joke or connection? Before she could decipher the look he turned back to Rebecca, listening politely to her chatter as though he'd never looked away.

Tash backed into a corner and decided to eat as many nibbles as she could; she'd felt too rough this morning to eat any breakfast. Best leave the boring small talk to the others. They were so much better at it than her and she was going to have to work up to a full on tour guide act. She couldn't do it cold. Who knew what might come out of her mouth at the moment?

Leaning against the back of a sofa she retreated into the unfocused, barely there look she'd perfected over the years to stop morons approaching her. She felt Nate's presence next to her before she saw him, felt the embarrassing jerk of her body's reaction to the warmth of him.

She turned to face him. It was always better to face matters head on, to take control of situations, relationships, pretty much anything really. Better to be the one who acted than sitting around waiting for others to do things to you.

"So, Holly tells me I'm going to be your guide for Verbier?" She said the only thing that came to mind while trying to solve the problem of where to look. Looking directly into his eyes, while kind of thrilling, felt dangerous. Like she might turn into Rebecca and involuntarily start touching him or something.

Ick. I refuse to turn into a sappy girl.

She settled for looking just past him, as though scanning the room. Then she realised how rude that was and reluctantly turned back to staring at the cool eyes assessing her and the thick eyebrows quirked into a question.

It felt intense, intimate.

Just a step away from a kiss…

"You don't want to ask me if I'm a keen snowboarder or if I've been to Verbier before?" His lips twitched into an almost smile. "They seem to be popular questions today."

"No." Tash returned the half smile, tentatively. Whatever this was, this thing happening to her, she was losing control of it rapidly.

Her heart pounded and she folded her arms across her chest, hugging her body.

Because if I'm holding myself my fingers can't stray to his arm to feel the muscles beneath that expensive suit. This is crazy. It's just sexual attraction. It means precisely nothing.

"Thank God, I hate wasting time on small talk." Nate exhaled and appeared to relax. It was a compliment, this assumption of a shared attitude. Heat crept up Tash's neck.

He's a suit Tash. Don't fall for the charm. You and Nathaniel Campbell have nothing in common.

"Because time is money?" Tash couldn't help the hint of snark in her tone; it escaped before she could suppress it.

"No," he replied, expression unchanging, seemingly unbothered by the jibe. "Because bullshit bores me and I've got better things to do with my time. But sometimes needs must."

"I suppose so," Tash replied doubtfully.

If you want to take on world media domination that is. First a TV show and now a book? Working in television must involve a lot of bullshit.

Nate's mouth widened into a wide smile, as though he'd heard her thoughts and found her beyond funny. A warm glow radiated through Tash.

How annoying to be so easily manipulated by the twitch of a few facial muscles. Get over yourself Tash.

"Could you show me my bedroom?" Nate asked.

Heat spread from her neck to her cheeks.

I'm blushing now?

Tash cringed. She was blushing like a teenager. And she'd never even blushed when she actually was a teenager!

It's a simple request, not a come on, you idiot. And now he knows you fancy him. Oh crappity crap.

"I'd like to get out of this suit," he added, loosening the knot of his red silk tie. "We had a meeting in Geneva fresh from the plane but between you and me, ties are like small talk."

"Oh?" Tash's mind felt curiously blank of words of more than one syllable.

Between you and me. You and me.

The words, combined with the idea of him getting out of his suit, stirred delicious possibilities in her mind. Perhaps this was Nate's superpower - turning the minds of all females to goo?

"They are both necessary evils." Nate grinned again, a flicker of knowing in his eyes told her he knew exactly what effect he had on her. It made something flip low down in Tash's stomach.

"Right, well…If you follow me I'll show you your bedroom," Tash blurted and turned, leaving the room. She assumed he was following her down the corridor, someone certainly was. But she didn't dare look back to check in case he was too close behind her. In case the bizarre connection he had straight to certain parts of her body made her do something really crazy like step even closer so she could inhale his masculine scent or nuzzle his neck.

Grip Tash. As in get one.

She walked down to the largest guest suite. She knew this room had been earmarked for him. There'd been enough fuss about what papers and magazines to leave for him on the small table in the corner - Le Monde, the Financial Times, Vanity Fair and GQ. Whether to leave an espresso machine in the room - no, too B&B. And whether orange blossom oil in the diffuser was too girly - at this point Scott had told Holly to stop fussing; Nathaniel Campbell was here to assess the business opportunities and write a book and being male meant he probably wouldn't even notice there was an oil diffuser in the room, never mind care what scent was in it.

Tash held the door open for Nate, surreptitiously inhaling his masculine, citrusy scent as he passed. Sod the orange blossom, she'd be happy to just to smell him all day. She walked into the room with him, embarrassed at her thoughts.

"Your, er bed." Tash gestured towards the king size sleigh bed, feeling vaguely stupid. "Sorry, I never know how to show people their rooms without sounding like a twat. Holly usually does this bit. As far as I'm concerned a bed is a bed and if you can't work out the difference between the ensuite and a wardrobe or work the switch for the blinds well…you don't deserve to have it pointed out to you. Not you obviously, I wouldn't imagine for a minute that…I think I'll just shut up now."

Argh. What is happening to me? This is not like me.

"I quite agree." Nate laughed and her chest relaxed in relief. "I hate it when hotel staff insist on showing me how my room works. I always want to tell them to sod off and leave me in peace."

Tash wanted to say 'me too' but then she'd never actually stayed in a hotel. The odd cheap guesthouse and B&B but nothing grander than that.

See? We have nothing in common. Nothing.

"So, everything's okay?" She hovered, pulling her arms across her chest again, not wanting to adopt a defensive posture but not knowing what else to do with her arms.

Does he want me to sod off?

"Everything seems great," Nate said, feeling the mattress with one hand while staring straight at Tash. "Nice and firm, just how I like it. How about you?"

"Um…" Tash's body had heated up so much she half wondered if she had a temperature. She wasn't a novice when it came to sexual tension or flirting. In fact she considered it her specialist subject but this…Never had she felt so jumpy, so physically jolted by an attraction and it was freaking her out.

This really won't do.

She was used to being the one in control, not the one being played. Sex meant very little to her. It had always been a currency, a source of power, a way to get physical affection and sometimes even to get a roof over her head.

"I only get a bunk bed to sleep in so I'm probably not the right person to ask." She stood rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on the mattress where Nate had patted it.

"Is that right?" Nate asked, eyebrows raised.

About the bunk bed or not being the right person? Damn, does he think I've just told him I'm not interested?

Nate pulled his red tie off and flung it onto the bed, maintaining eye contact as the silence stretched taut between them. The corners of his mouth twitched; he was playing her all right.

All Tash could think about was Nate using that tie to bind her wrists while he bent her over the bed and did very bad things to her.

She blinked hard, trying not to gape at Nate as he discarded his jacket. Beneath his shirt she could see he was as fit as she'd first thought. Gym body, rugby playing fit. Hard taut muscles fit.

Oh God.

She inhaled deeply, trying to locate her sanity. Wishing she had the small talk gene after all.

It's just sexual desire. Someone's turned the dial up on the intensity, that's all.

She'd always assumed people were exaggerating when they used words like 'irresistible' or talked about love at first sight. It wasn't love, how could it be if you didn't even know the person? It was a primeval response to mate, a need just like hunger or thirst.

It just went to show it meant nothing if she was experiencing these…feelings for a man like Nathaniel Campbell who had nothing in common with her, nothing to do with her world.

Focus. I need to do what Holly said, do it well and not let my hormones distract me. That’s all.

"So, you want me to show you Verbier?" She asked brightly.

He looked at her, amused, appraising her as his gaze travelled the length of her body. She felt it on her legs, her neck, her lips, her breasts…Her skin prickled as though it were a physical touch and he were stripping her. There could be no mistake, no other interpretation, no innocent meaning in that look.

It was both an announcement and an invitation.

Boy, hereally doesn't hang about does he?

Maybe she ought to be annoyed, to protest, but what would be the point? It wasn't like directness offended her; it was her preferred method of communication after all.

He knows I fancy him and he's playing me. But weirdly, I don't mind. I don’t mind one little bit.

“I want you to show me everything,” he replied quietly in a low tone that set Tash’s pulse racing.




Chapter 3 (#ub124c98c-23ed-5021-85a3-ca6680c26f3f)


"Oh?" The word barely made it out of her mouth, all the air in her lungs had mysteriously vanished. She stared at the dark chest hair visible at the exposed neck of his formal white shirt, her cheeks burning.

"But there's one thing I need to be upfront about Tash." Nate's tone changed from flirtatious to serious.

"What's that?" She continued to clutch her arms across her body, as though that might protect her from the force of nature that was Nate Campbell.

"My work is everything to me,” he said. “Fun always has to come second. And I don't do complicated, I haven't time for complicated."

Huh?

A stirring of indignation at his presumption rose above the haze of sexual desire.

"Aren't you making a bit of an assumption here?" She narrowed her eyes into a fierce expression that usually cowed lesser mortals. "We've just met and I thought we were talking about me showing you around Verbier?"

He laughed then, eyes sparking with good humour. "And I thought you didn't do all that small talk bullshit? I like you and you like me. We both know it so what's the point in pretending otherwise? Scientists have proven we know if we're attracted to someone within ninety seconds to four minutes of meeting them. Fact. Why waste time sending oblique signals? We can have fun if you like, or not. It's up to you."

He shrugged as though he could take her or leave her, it was all the same to him and Tash's hands itched to slap him. And then rip his clothes off.

"Actually, you know, you were right." Tash smiled as sweetly as she could manage and backed towards to the door.

"Oh?" Nate unbuttoned his shirt, his smile sexy and confident

Tash swallowed hard at the bare chest he revealed, at the hair snaking down from taut, toned muscles into the waistband of his tailored suit trousers. Was he actually planning to strip in front of her? Ask her to do it here and now while the others were just in the next room? It was tempting to wait and see just how much he was going to strip off.

Maybe this was a test or some kind of stupid joke? Perhaps he was hoping to shock her.

As if.

Shock tactics were Tash's usual move. She couldn't help but admire him for stealing her moves.

And hate him.

God, I'm in trouble.

"I think small talk is sometimes necessary. Not bothering with it can be…rude." Tash said, wrenching her eyes away from Nate's naked torso.

He heaved a pretend sigh and sank down onto the bed. "Okay, like I said, I can do small talk when necessary. Later maybe. In the meantime could you see if you can get my luggage sent to my room? My PA knows which bags I need. Thanks."

Dismissed.

How had he turned her excellent put-down into a command for her to obey him in under a minute?

It was almost impressive.

Tash turned and did something totally alien to her nature - she fled, not bothering to stay to try and have the last word. Nate's low chuckle tickled her spine and turned her legs to jelly.

Shit, that man is dangerous. I shouldn't even be thinking about playing his games. It's crazy. I need to remember it's just hormones. If I can't control them then I'm as shallow as Rebecca.





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