Master Class [Après-Ski 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Zara Chase

  Liar!

  She saw him in the corner, close to the flap leading to the service side of the bar, standing with another man who was a little taller than Ward, with dark hair and traffic-stopping good looks. Wow, was he for real? Tanya wondered, enjoying the view. Both men were dressed in faded jeans and plain T-shirts. They might as well have been wearing giant magnets on their broad chests because a constantly changing sea of women appeared drawn to them. The guys spoke to them, laughed with them, but seemed able to avoid getting entangled without alienating them because none of them stayed for long but all of them walked away smiling. Well, Tanya figured if you looked as good as they did, they must have had a lot of practice at fending off unwelcome attention. If it was unwelcome. That made Tanya wonder. Who, or what, were they waiting for?

  Wade glanced up, saw her looking, and raised his bottle in a salute. She waved and turned away, angry to have been caught staring at him, angrier still when her body reacted and sensation streaked through it. Damned good job she’d brought her trusty vibrator with her for this holiday because it looked like it was going to get a good workout. Ward’s acknowledgement was the most effort she’d seen him put into greeting anyone, but she was damned if she’d go over and join the throng drooling over him.

  Just as effortlessly as she’d disappeared, Melanie materialized at her side.

  “Who’s the hunk with Ward?” she asked, her eyes alight with speculation.

  Tanya shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “It must be something in this tax-free air that breeds all these fine-looking men.”

  Tanya chuckled. “Perhaps you should give their parents some credit, too.”

  “Come on, let’s go and say hello.”

  Without waiting for a response, Melanie did her crowd-parting thing again and they reached Ward and his buddy. So much for not going to him, Tanya thought.

  “Hey,” Ward said. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

  “It’s cool,” Melanie said, probably meaning it.

  “This is Leo Hadleigh—”

  “The owner, I presume,” Melanie said, not giving Ward time to finish the introduction. “I’m Melanie. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

  She thrust out a hand and a rather bemused-looking Leo had no choice but to shake it.

  “This is Tanya,” Ward said to Leo.

  Leo gave her a long, considering stare, sent Ward a look she was unable to interpret, and then flashed a slow, sexy smile. His smile was beyond devastating but didn’t affect Tanya in the way Ward’s so easily could, which was bizarre.

  “Hey,” Leo said, taking her hand in a firm grasp. “It’s a pleasure. Welcome to Hadleigh’s.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re American, too,” Melanie said.

  “There’re a lot of us about.”

  “Hey, we’re on!”

  They heard Carl’s voice even above the loud music and turned to look at the screen. The exploits of their class negotiating the slalom course had been faithfully recorded. Tanya remembered how terrifyingly steep it had seemed and how stoked they all were to have negotiated it. Seeing it now, it didn’t look nearly so daunting. Nor did any of them look as proficient as they’d felt. Carl and the rest of the class were now clustered around Melanie and Tanya, shouting out comments with varying degrees of insults attached as, one by one, they took their turn to star.

  When Tanya made it all the way to the bottom and then fell, everyone roared with laughter. Her face hot with embarrassment, Tanya turned away from the screen, only to make firm contact with a solid wall. A warm, solid wall with rippling muscles and a musky masculine smell that messed with her mind. A strong arm slid around her waist and pulled her tight against that wall—no, chest. Tanya was having trouble breathing, and her brain was too addled to figure out what Ward thought he was playing at.

  “You look like you’d rather be just about anywhere else,” he said, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke directly into it to make himself heard above the music and raucous laughter.

  “I’m…er, well, I’m not too good in crowds. They make me feel claustrophobic.”

  He removed the bottle from between her slack fingers and took a firm hold of her hand. As soon as his fingers laced with hers, her body went into meltdown. Turbulent heat washed through it and the mood of reckless abandon she’d experienced earlier took a deeper hold.

  “Come on,” he said in the deep, velvety smooth voice that sent anticipatory shivers down her spine. “I know a place where we can be quieter.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me,” she replied breathlessly. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Too late to stop me worrying.”

  She looked up at him, wishing she knew what it was that he wanted from her. If it was sex, there was a ton more attractive women in the place. Tanya was willing to bet that none of them would turn him down.

  Even so, there was never any question of Tanya refusing his invitation. She was no longer in control of her reactions. Besides, she didn’t want to refuse. She looked over her shoulder to tell Melanie she was leaving the bar but her friend was in the middle of a crowd of men, including Leo and Carl. She was way too small for Tanya to be able to see her over their heads. Besides, how many times had Melanie done this to her?

  Ward kept hold of her hand but didn’t move, clearly waiting for her to reach a decision.

  “Let’s go,” she said with a resolute nod.

  Chapter Four

  Ward thought she might actually turn him down, which hadn’t happened in a while and was probably a timely lesson in humility. Mind you, he didn’t normally take women where he was about to take Tanya. He really did want to talk to her and hadn’t thought beyond that point. Seeing the way Melanie led her around like a poodle irritated the hell out of him and he wanted to understand why she put up with it. He wanted to understand a lot of things about this oddly compelling woman. For the first time since he couldn’t remember when, he wanted to be with a female for reasons other than sex. Not that sex didn’t feature high on his list of priorities, but he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship and something told him Tanya wasn’t into casual sex.

  So what the hell do I want from her?

  He punched a four-digit code into a doorway at the back of the bar. It swung open, and Ward stepped back to allow Tanya to step through it first, making sure it closed firmly behind them. Tanya looked around the large, comfortably furnished room and blinked. There were overstuffed sofas, a blazing log fire, a fully equipped bar and, mercifully, no blaring music.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “It’s where Leo and the rest of us come for privacy.”

  “It’s your lounge? You live here?”

  “Kinda.”

  “Well, what does that mean? Either you do or you don’t.”

  Ward laughed. “We’ll get to that. First, what would you like to drink? More beer?”

  “No thanks. I don’t like beer much.” He wanted to ask why she’d been drinking it in that case, but refrained. It wasn’t so very important. “A glass of white wine would be good, though.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Wade handed her a glass, opened a beer for himself, and joined her on the settee beside the fire.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he invited.

  “I’d much rather talk about you. Why a half dozen Yanks call this place home has to be a more interesting story.”

  He wagged a finger at her and then ran one arm along the back of the sofa, his fingers within striking distance of her neck and all that gorgeous hair. “I asked first.”

  “Okay, but there’s not much to tell. I had a wonderful childhood, great parents who loved one another, and me and my brother and sister. We weren’t beaten, or abused, or neglected, or any of the other things it’s fashionable to complain about nowadays. Mum and Dad are still together, still in love.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “I know.”

  “Whereabout
s were you raised?”

  “I was brought up in Brighton, which is on the south coast of England. I still live in the area. I have a flat—what you’d call an apartment—close to Mum and Dad’s place. I run my own business. Website design. Hadleigh’s site could use some work, by the way.” Her smile lit up her features and they lost their reserve. She feels confident talking about something she understands, Ward realized, glad she was starting to relax. “No offense, but I checked it out and it’s…well, dull.”

  Ward laughed. “Leo isn’t into all that stuff.”

  “It shows.”

  “He does so well here that he doesn’t really need an online presence anyway.”

  “Everyone does. Hello, welcome to the twenty-first century.”

  “Does your business do well?”

  Her smile vanished. “I’ve got a good client base, more than I can cope with actually, but I hit a few problems recently.”

  Hmm, Ward would like to know what they were but sensed now wasn’t the time to ask. She’d clammed up on him again and he could feel tension radiating from her. “What sort of clients do you have?”

  A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, telling him he was back on safe territory. “All sorts. One writes erotic romance, which is…er, interesting.”

  “Nothing wrong with erotica.”

  “No, but she writes BDSM. It gets pretty wild.”

  “Does it now.”

  Her eyes sparkled, a mixture of autumnal colors that mesmerized him. “I do think she gets a bit carried away sometimes. I mean, I just posted an excerpt for her, but the woman was in an impossible position.”

  “Define impossible.”

  She blushed, presumably because she realized what she was saying to him, a virtual stranger. It was interesting that she felt safer talking about this than about herself.

  “Well, the woman had her feet…sorry.” She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling. “She had her legs over her own shoulders and her feet almost flat on the bed. She must have to have no bones in her body.”

  “No, she could do that.”

  Tanya’s eyes flew wide—very wide. “You know about this stuff?”

  “Sure. You ever wondered about trying it?”

  His casual manner appeared to communicate itself to her. She still looked pink with embarrassment but managed to meet his gaze and hold it. “Actually, yes I have, but I guess you need to find the right person to experiment with. I mean, I know people go to clubs and stuff, and make contracts with strangers, but I don’t think I could ever find the courage to do that.”

  “Why not? If you want to know about it—”

  “What do you mean why not? Look at me.”

  “I haven’t been doing much else since we met yesterday, and let me tell you, I like what I see.”

  His fingers gently touched the back of her neck, and she jumped like a scalded cat, spilling wine over her hand. She put the glass on a side table and licked the spill up, causing Ward to suppress a groan as he imagined that moist, pink tongue going to work on his most sensitive places. This was turning out even better than he’d anticipated. Perhaps he’d sensed in Tanya a dormant desire to be dominated that sparked his interest in the first place. Leo had known immediately that she was special, too. Just the brief, approving nod he’d given Ward immediately after setting eyes on her had been enough to tell him that.

  “Please don’t feel you need to pay me false compliments.”

  “Fuck, she’s really done a number on you, hasn’t she?”

  She blinked up at him. “Who has?”

  “Melanie.”

  “Melanie.” She laughed. “Don’t be silly. We’ve been friends since our first days at school.”

  “So why are you content to bask in her shadow?”

  “I’m not, I—” Ward fixed her with a knowing look and left her to trip over her own tongue. “We’re very different people, and…well, it’s a long story.”

  “I’m a good listener.”

  A gurgle of laughter slipped past her lips. “She’d be furious if she knew I was here with you, even though we’re not doing anything. She has plans for you.”

  Ward rolled his eyes. “In her dreams.”

  “You don’t like her.” Once again she widened her eyes. “All men like Melanie.”

  “I’m not all men.”

  “No, I suppose you can pick and choose. But even so—”

  “Stop trying to change the subject. You always do that when there’s something you don’t want to talk about.”

  “Oh, so you’re an expert on my habit already, are you?”

  “You’re not so very hard to read.”

  She inverted her chin. “Thanks a bunch.”

  “Hey, don’t get mad. You interest me and I want to know what makes you tick. Melanie seems to be a big part of that, so tell me.”

  “You still haven’t told me a word about your background.”

  “I’m betting you usually turn the tables on people when they ask you about yourself.” He sent a vibrant smile. “Now, I can see why that would be effective because most people like nothing better than to talk about themselves, but it ain’t gonna work with me, babe.”

  She tossed her head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferably arrogant?”

  Ward smirked, enjoying himself immensely. “Not in such a pretty British accent they haven’t.”

  “You need to get out more. There are plenty of Brits in Nevella whom I’m sure would agree with me.”

  He laughed at the indignation playing across features cast into light and shadow by the flickering flames of the fire. “You were going to tell me about Melanie and the hold she has over you.”

  “She doesn’t have a hold, but she is fragile.”

  “Fragile?” Ward spluttered. “Did you just say fragile?”

  “If you must know, until she turned sixteen, Melanie was a wide as she is tall.”

  “Ah, now I’m starting to get it.”

  “I doubt if you do. She was picked on and bullied by kids for her entire childhood because of her size. I was her only friend.” Tanya paused. There was obviously more and she was trying to decide whether or not to tell him. Ward figured that not trying to persuade her would be the surest way to get her to talk. Sure enough, when he simply fixed her with a look of polite enquiry and remained silent, she spoke again. “Have you noticed that Melanie always wears long sleeves? Well,” she added, not giving him time to respond, “most people do up here, I suppose.” She glanced at his bare arms and grinned. “All the sensible ones, anyway. But Melanie covers her arms all the time.”

  “Let me guess. She self-harmed?”

  Tanya looked surprised. “How did you know?”

  “It’s a classic symptom of bullying, or negative body image.” Or abuse. “I studied psychology in school.”

  “You’re a shrink?”

  “No, darlin’, I’m a humble ski instructor, and I majored in journalism, not psychology.”

  She snorted. “There’s absolutely nothing humble about you.”

  “But you guys leave school in England at sixteen, right?”

  “Those not going on to higher education do. I went on, Melanie didn’t. She moved out of her parents’ house the day she finished school and went to live with her older sister.”

  “But you kept in touch?”

  “Yes, I did high education then went on to university. Melanie enrolled on a beautician’s course and started losing weight. Fast.”

  “Did you ever find out what the problem was? Presumably it had something to do with her home life, otherwise she wouldn’t have left and started getting her act together as soon as she legally could.”

  “Yes, I do know, but it’s not my secret to tell.”

  “It’s okay, I can draw my own conclusions.” Ward would strangle Melanie’s dad if he could get his hands on him. But then strangling abusive parents was another specialty of his—a habit he was trying to kick. “So, let me
guess, Melanie lost weight, got obsessed with her appearance, probably got bulimic and went into therapy, and you’ve stood by her every step of the way.”

  “Right, apart from the therapy. Given what she went through as a teenager, you can’t blame her for being so proud of the way she looks now. Hell, if I looked like her, I would be, too.”

  “Darlin’, don’t put yourself down. You’re ten times better looking than she is.”

  She turned away from him. “I am not! I’m a huge lump. She’s petite, delicate, perfectly proportioned, and…well, all the things I’ll never be.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and turned her until she was forced to look at him. He ignored the heat that seared through his palms where they made contact with her body. This wasn’t about him.

  “Who said that small’s good?”

  She made a scoffing sound at the back of her throat. “Pick up just about any woman’s magazine on the newsstand. Size zero is the accepted norm.”

  “That’s a crock of shit! Ask any man what he thinks the perfect woman should look like.”

  “I don’t need to. I’ve spent too long in Melanie’s company to—”

  “Why do you think she puts you down?”

  She looked totally astounded. “She doesn’t.”

  “Really?” He quirked a brow. “What did she say loud enough for half the piste to hear when you fell at the bottom of the slalom course?”

  “Oh, that was just a joke.”

  “Friends don’t make personal remarks like that in front of comparative strangers.”

  “Even if it’s true?”

  Ward treated her to a wicked smile. “If you want my opinion, your ass is the perfect size.” He lowered his voice to a seductive drawl. “Especially if you’re serious about the BDSM gig. A decent-sized ass makes for more satisfactory spanking.”

  She gasped. “I, er…well, I don’t know about being serious.”