Confessions of a Chalet Girl: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance Novella

by Lorraine Wilson

  ‘Why? There’s nothing to know.’ She tugged her hand away. He didn’t let go. She could insist. Perhaps she should insist, she knew instinctively if she did then he'd release his grip immediately.

  But I don't want him to let go …

  Sod it! She didn’t know what she wanted.

  I want him.

  The deep unbidden response roared in her ears.

  ‘I doubt there's nothing to know, Holly.’ His eyes gleamed with curiosity. ‘So you’re here to avoid your family, amongst other things?’

  ‘Why ask if you already know?’

  ‘It's called making conversation, you should try it sometime. But you've avoided my question. I find that interesting.’ His eyes searched hers and stripped her bare, body and soul.

  Squirming, she hoped he couldn’t really see her secrets, her inadequacies and fears. Hoped he couldn’t see how different she was from the rest of the seasonnaire crowd. After two weeks in Verbier she still hadn’t blended in. His gaze assessed her with the intensity of x-ray vision. He probably knew the colour of her knickers and her bra size by now.

  Oh no, her mistake, he’d already worked that out. Some talent. Was that really the kind of guy she wanted to be with?

  Yes, yes, yes!

  Her body screamed at her to listen. Here was a drop dead gorgeous guy flirting like mad with her and she was resisting…why exactly?

  ‘It's hardly interesting. I'm here to improve my French and to spend time abroad.’

  ‘But not to party? You must be the only one of my employees not drinking tonight.’

  ‘Well, someone has to be sensible, to stay in control.’ Her jaw clenched, she resented the implication she was boring. ‘You must know what I mean, given you run your own business. You're pretty sober yourself. I haven’t seen you drinking so I assume you know exactly what I mean.’

  The fact Scott wasn’t drinking was a huge plus point in his favour as far as she was concerned.

  ‘Losing control can be fun sometimes Holly.’ His thumb circled her palm with increased pressure, his eyes promised far more.

  She looked away, confused and half longing for invisibility, half revelling in the knowledge that he saw her, really saw her. She couldn’t decide which girl to be. It was easy to fade into the background surrounded by three chalet girls who were attention seeking Divas.

  Here with Scott there was nowhere to hide. She was teetering on the edge of something, waiting to see if he would push her.

  Waiting to see if she had it in her to jump.

  ‘I, I wouldn't know … I'm still not sure,’ she stammered, cheeks hot, feeling sixteen again. The Madonna lyrics played on an internal loop – ‘like a virgin, touched for the very first time…’

  She’d explode if he didn’t kiss her, didn’t touch her..

  ‘Wouldn't you like me to show you how losing control can be fun?’ His voice was smooth and tempting, like melting caramel. ‘I get the feeling you need to be in control. But don't you find it exhausting? Don't you ever long for someone else to take control for you once in a while? I promise you, it’ll be fun.’

  Her eyes widened, shocked at having one of her deepest desires exposed. How could he know she'd loathed always having to be the adult in the household? That she longed with an intense hunger for someone to come and look after her sometimes, like her friends’ mothers did.

  She’d felt like she had her nose pressed up against the glass window of a cake shop when she went round to their houses for tea. Not that it happened much because she could never invite them back.

  Scott progressed up from the palm of her hand to stroke the pulse point on the tender inside of her wrist. Her heart raced, it was as though he’d stripped her defences away with those few sentences. Her lips parted instinctively and a persistent desire throbbed between her legs.

  She edged closer to him, her body giving him the response her lips didn't seem able to. Leaning back, he reached out an arm to lock the door leading into the main chalet then pulled her back with him to a large leather armchair in the corner of the room.

  ‘Will you let me to take control Holly?’ he whispered huskily into her ear, the warm breath making the small hairs on her neck prickle with anticipation. ‘I’ll only ask once. Let go for just ten minutes and I promise when you walk out of here you can take the control right back again.’

  Holly's head seemed to nod of its own volition, her body one step ahead of her mind. She sat sideways on his lap, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions she could barely begin to untangle. There was one emotion she couldn’t ignore. She wanted him, and it opened a chasm of longing up inside her.

  She could feel his erection beneath her thighs and was flattered. Scott was gorgeous and there were lots of hot girls in Verbier who’d kill to be where she was sitting right now. She’d heard enough stories over the past few weeks to know he was making an exception for her. Just thinking about that turned her on even more.

  Her head span, being desired was a pretty potent cocktail. It was oh so tempting to let go, to relax for just a few minutes.

  When was the last time I really enjoyed myself? Or felt truly relaxed?

  She didn't know if the hyper-vigilance had ever truly left her.

  ‘Would you like me to kiss you Holly?’ His question cut through her thoughts. It was time for her mind to catch up with her body.

  ‘Yes, I’d like you to kiss me. But I can’t have, well, I can’t have you know, sex with you not here, not now…’ she mumbled, mortified, wishing a trap door would open to swallow her up.

  ‘That’s cool. The door's locked. No one will come in. Let me help you relax.’

  His touch ripped through her last shred of restraint.

  ‘Okay.’ She nodded, her breath catching at the top of her chest as his hand found the hem of her skirt, slid underneath and trailed up her thigh. He traced the edge of her hold ups, tickling and stroking. She gasped as he tickled the bare sensitive flesh at the top of her thigh before caressing the silk fabric of her knickers in a way that made all the breath leave her body.

  This should feel too fast, I ought to be protesting … But this is soooo good!

  He had her in thrall, wondering what he’d do next, willing to do pretty much anything he asked.

  While he stroked the strip of fabric between her legs his mouth found hers and a firm tongue slid between her lips, boldly exploring. Her tongue met his, tasting him hungrily and rough stubble grazed her cheek. The friction of rough against smooth sent a delicious dart of pleasure through her body. Her legs edged further apart, silently begging Scott to touch her.

  Please go under the silk. Strip me, touch me, and make me come…

  She squirmed and pressed herself against his hand, wanting him but not bold enough to say what she really wanted. Tentatively she reached across to his jeans to caress him but he pushed her hand away.

  ‘No, not now,’ he murmured. ‘Just relax, Holly. Lie back.’

  She obeyed him. Lying back across his lap, she let him push her skirt up around her hips, allowed him to part her thighs with his fingers.

  More aroused than she’d ever been before, she squirmed and sighed. He tugged at the buttons of her white shirt and stroked her breasts through their pale pink lacy cups, making her nipples stiffen against the palms of his hands.

  ‘Pink and lacy. I was right.’ He announced triumphantly before lowering his mouth to her breasts.

  She forgave him for being smug as he kissed and gently nipped her nipples through the lacy bra. Was this what he meant when he’d said he would kiss her? She moaned, wriggling and squirming on his lap, parting her legs a little wider, wanting him to go lower.

  Needing him to touch her.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered and as though he’d read her mind he stroked a hand down to her stomach, reaching her knickers. He traced rhythmic circles on the surface of the fabric until she was so wet for him she couldn’t bear it any more.

  ‘Please,’ she groaned, arching up under h
is hand. He laughed.

  ‘Sure.’ He slid two fingers under the elastic and plunged them inside her, thrusting as he kissed her again. Pressure built up between her legs and she writhed against his fingers, wanting more.

  ‘Hang on…’ He pulled away from her, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark with lust. Standing up he pushed her back onto the buttery-soft leather and deftly positioning her close to the edge of the chair. Tension vibrated on the air as she waited, still reeling from his caresses.

  The only sound in the room was their breathing, Scott exhaling loudly as he slid her knickers down and slipped them into his pocket. She felt achingly exposed, the sensation of air between her legs unfamiliar.

  The bulge in his jeans told her he was as turned on as she was. How contrary of her to long for him to make love to her. Yet at the same time she’d be disappointed if he didn’t respect her request.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Scott crouched down in front of her. ‘I asked if I could kiss you and that’s all I'm going to do.’

  Spooky. He must be able to read my mind. But…

  ‘I didn’t say where I was going to kiss you though.’ He grinned, eyes gleaming.

  She couldn't breath, couldn't think as he raised her thighs onto his shoulders. Relief she’d showered earlier mixed with anxiety. Just what was Scott going to do? ‘Oh, my…God.’ She moaned softly as his tongue lapped her.

  She forgot to be self-concious, forgot to worry how she compared to other girls and pretty soon she forgot to think at all…

  He gently circled the most sensitive nub of flesh with the tip of his tongue. She bucked against him, half scandalised, half wild with exhilaration. His hands slid under her bare buttocks, clasping and squeezing them.

  She felt like a different creature entirely from the woman who’d walked into the office ten minutes ago. But then Scott's ministrations were a whole universe apart from Paul’s lengthy and fumbling attempts to make her come. There was nothing fumbling about what Scott was doing to her right now.

  Soon her whole body was overwhelmed by a wave of molten pleasure that practically ripped her out of his hands.

  Oh…My…God…

  So this was what everyone had been going on about. Well it was pretty damn…amazing. Holly knew that however long she lived, she'd never have a New Year's Eve kiss to beat that one.

  She shuddered, quivering as he lowered her carefully back onto the chair.

  ‘Happy New Year, Holly,’ Scott said, grinning at her as he pulled her skirt back down.

  For a moment his dark eyes stared at her intently, as if to check she was okay.

  Then he turned abruptly, unlocked the door and walked back into the chalet corridor as if nothing had happened.

  Well… That was…

  She bit her lip. Should she wait for him to come back? Or go back up and try to be nice to the guests, make sure they were having a good time. Like she was being paid to.

  Shell-shocked, she did up her shirt buttons and rose to go out the back way, needing the fresh air to bring her back to reality. The sudden rush of cold air between her legs reminded her he still had her knickers.

  She felt brazen, liberated and confused all at once. Her legs were a little shaky as she made her way back round to the side entrance.

  It was a clear night. The stars shone brightly in the inky blackness with no light pollution to obscure them. She was miles away from London, that was for sure, and a long way from home in more ways than one. She didn’t know if what she’d just done, what she’d let Scott do, was fantastic or the worst mistake of her life.

  Although her initial desire had been sated she still ached for him, felt incomplete somehow. She needed more.

  And she needed her knickers back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Scott made his way down the corridor to the kitchen in search of a glass of something cold. An ice cold shower was what he really needed to take the edge off his desire to finish what he'd started with Holly.

  A cold shower or a stiff whiskey.

  Not that whiskey was an option. He’d trained his body to manage without it. Grief may have tempted him once, the alcohol blurring the sharp edges of the pain of bereavement. But inevitably it had been a false friend and he’d never choose its company again.

  Work distraction would have to do instead. It always helped. Pouring every waking moment into expanding Luxury Chalet Experiences rather than torturing himself with guilt paid great dividends. Expanding into Italy to capitalise on the weak euro, while keeping the income in British pounds, was a risky move but one he thought would pay off.

  That the business kept him away from London was a happy coincidence. If he had to stay within a ten-mile radius of his family he'd be stark raving bonkers by now.

  The murmur of voices reached him from the living room. He ought to go and chat to the guests about the off-piste skiing trip they’d requested, but not yet. Tension wound itself around his body like a tightly coiled spring. He could've done with the release of sex with Holly tonight. It’d been bloody hard walking away.

  He headed straight for the fridge as quietly as possible, buying himself a little more time alone. Christmas at home had been hellish as news of his father’s most recent infidelity had leaked out. The dishonesty of it riled him. Why couldn’t people just be straight with each other? Hadn’t they had enough of that in their family already? It had taken his sister Zoë from them and you’d have thought they might learn something from that.

  He grabbed a bottle of cold water, trying not to mull on the fact it was almost a year since they’d lost Zoë to cancer. If she hadn’t lied about feeling ill they might have got her help sooner, despite her terror of chemo.

  Lying should be a capital offence.

  He slugged down the water, trying to swallow down his anger with it. A conversation at the other end of the kitchen broke into his thoughts and he tuned in to listen, turning his gaze on Sophie, Magda and Amelia. They had clustered around the kitchen island drinking rather than circulating with guests as they were supposed to. He heard Holly’s name and decided to postpone the kick up the behind they needed. After all Holly hadn’t been working either…

  ‘Where on earth can she have got to?’ Amelia searched for discarded champagne bottles containing dregs and poured the contents into her glass. ‘It’s not like Miss Goody Two Shoes to play hooky.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s shagging someone in the Jacuzzi?’ Magda sneered. Drink always made her tongue harsh and her eyes as sharp as flint. It wasn’t a look he found attractive, even though her ice-cool Scandinavian looks were the type most men went for.

  ‘Naahhh,’ Amelia rolled her eyes. ‘Holly wouldn't shag Daniel Craig if he begged her, she’s far too uptight. She should neck a few drinks and chill out more.’

  ‘Come on, she’s all right.’ Sophie grabbed a discarded champagne glass and glugged the contents down.

  Scott warmed to her. Sophie was nice, definitely kinder than the other two. He felt glad Holly had someone on her side. Make that two people on her side. The flash of vulnerability on Holly’s face when he’d asked about her family roused his protective instincts.

  Holly entered the room looking flushed, cute and very, very fuckable. Scott groaned inwardly as the invisible coil tightened its grip on him. Then he moved closer and cleared his throat so the girls were aware of his presence. Their guilty expressions at seeing both him and Holly were quickly replaced as they recovered themselves and plastered smiles on their faces.

  ‘Happy New Year, girls. Enjoying yourselves?’ he raised an eyebrow.

  ‘We were just clearing up, Scott,’ Magda beamed at him, the queen of bullshit.

  ‘You can clear up in the morning. Go mingle. You need to make sure none of our guests ends up in a snowdrift tonight. Hypothermia might put a bit of a dampener on their holiday.’

  Holly smiled and hesitantly met his eye but looked away again quickly when he winked at her.

  Irresistible. Concentrate Scott, work!

&n
bsp; ‘Wait a sec girls, while I remember – the day after tomorrow we’re taking the guests on an off-piste skiing expedition. We need to be at the helipad by eight am and I want the two best skiers, Magda and Holly to come with us.’

  Holly choked on her orange juice and Magda slapped her on the back with what seemed like unnecessary force to Scott.

  ‘Are you okay?’ He moved closer, concerned.

  ‘I’m um, fine,’ she gasped, stepping out of Magda’s reach. ‘But I'm really not a very good skier. I don’t know why you’d think I was.’

  Scott smiled. ‘Now I know you’re being modest. When you listed skiing as an interest on your CV I’d no idea how many amateur competitions you’d won. The guests will be really impressed to have a slalom champion along side them.’

  The colour drained from Holly’s face. She looked imploringly at him, aghast. ‘Really, I’m not any good, I…’

  ‘Enough with the false modesty Holly,’ Amelia snapped, clearly put out to be ousted from the helicopter trip by the new girl. ‘If you don’t want people to know you shouldn’t splash it all over your Facebook page, should you?’

  Time to break things up.

  ‘Come on girls, don’t get catty on me. Go forth and mingle and don’t forget to be professional. Our guests are paying good money to have a nice time and that money pays your salaries so please go do your jobs.’

  ***

  Holly scuttled out of the room before anyone could talk to her but headed for her room instead of the party. She’d left her iPhone on charge and needed to find out what on earth everyone was talking about.

  Don’t panic, there’ll be a rational explanation. You can find this other Holly Buchanan’s profile and go show Scott, explain you can’t ski.

  She grabbed her phone from its charger and clicked immediately onto her Facebook App.

  ‘This can’t be right,’ she murmured aloud. ‘Oh bloody hell!’

  On her Facebook Timeline there was a photo of her on skis, holding up a cup…Dazedly she backed onto her bunk bed and sat down. How could this be happening? It all looked so real, for a microsecond she even questioned if she’d some kind of selective amnesia and had simply forgotten she was an expert championship skier.