Naked Exposure [Après-Ski 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)
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Après-Ski 2
Naked Exposure
Darcy Sinclair, a beautiful and talented videographer, is willing to work at Ross Lang’s ski school for minimum wage. Immediately attracted to her, Ross is also wary of the sudden appearance of an overqualified candidate so keen to fill the vacancy.
The small principality of Nevella is run by five rival families, all of whom are working to attract a wealthy Russian consortium. Could Darcy have been sent to spy for another family, or is she what she appears to be? Someone has to awaken Darcy’s latent sensuality, and Ross figures it’s not against the rules to mix business with pleasure while he tries to figure out her motivation.
Darcy is torn between her feelings for Ross and her real reason for being in Medina Valley, but before she can place her trust in him, he discovers the truth for himself. Will he forgive her treachery and help her fight the people manipulating her?
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary
Length: 55,309 words
NAKED EXPOSURE
Après-Ski 2
Zara Chase
EVERLASTING CLASSIC
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic
NAKED EXPOSURE
Copyright © 2013 by Zara Chase
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-003-8
First E-book Publication: December 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
NAKED EXPOSURE
Après-Ski 2
ZARA CHASE
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
“Fuck, it’s cold this morning.” Ross rubbed his gloved hands together as he strode along toward the cable car station.
“Tell me about it.” Ward buried his chin deep into the upturned collar of his parka. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
“You said it, buddy.”
Ward shot Ross the finger, but his thick glove caused the gesture to lose its impact. “What I would have given to stay tucked up warm and cozy in bed with Tanya draped all over me.”
The two men stepped into the relative warmth of a cable car. They had it to themselves at this early hour. “At least you have Tanya.”
“Yeah, I do.” Ward’s smile heated the frigid air. Ross, in spite of his bad mood and unsettled frame of mind, found himself grinning, too. “Best move I ever made, hooking up with her.”
“So you never tire of telling us.” Ross rolled his eyes. “I think I preferred you before you found lurve.”
“Just ’cause your sweet little sub has moved on to Doms new, there’s no need to take it out on me.”
“Damned shame that.” Ross shrugged. “Still, the relationship was getting old. Problem with a small place like Nevella is that people of our…er, persuasion are kinda thin on the ground.”
“Depends where you look. You might be surprised.”
Ross glowered at his buddy. “No need to act so fucking smug.”
Ward was an instructor in the Phantom Ski School managed by Ross and Tanya had been in his class a month back. The two of them had hit it off, and Tanya was now a permanent fixture in Ward’s life. In all their lives actually, because Ward, Ross, and three other Americans lived, worked, and played with Leo Hadleigh, also an American. Leo’s bar, Hadleigh’s, was the hub of the après-ski scene in Medina village.
Tanya had gotten Ward back on track, too, convincing him his career as a journalist wasn’t over just because he’d allowed himself to get personally involved and beat the shit out of a pervert in a child abuse story he had been chasing back in the States. He had jumped to the wrong conclusion and nearly killed a guy who, it transpired, had nothing to do with abused kids. Unable to forgive himself, Ward had come over to Europe to hang out with his old buddy Leo for a while, and never gotten around to leaving again. Thanks to Tanya’s influence, Ward had realized he couldn’t hide away here in Nevella—a tiny principality that straddled the French and Spanish borders—forever. He was doing some freelance stuff for his old American paper again now, and Ross had never seen him happier.
Ross, on the other hand, was restless, starting to question the direction his own life had taken. Running the ski-school was all very well—it was a living, and it had been a satisfying challenge to take a losing concern, cut out all the dead wood and turn it around—but it wasn’t enough. All six of them camping out at Hadleigh’s were running from some
thing, including Leo himself, but there came a time in a guy’s life when he had to ask himself what the fuck the point of it all was.
Ross had reached that point.
It could be because Monique, his sub, had moved on, but Ross didn’t think that was the reason for his unsettled mood. His relationship with Monique had run its course. Monique didn’t see it that way, though, and when Ward and Tanya cozied up, she wanted more. Ross didn’t. The parting had been amicable, and Monique had taken a job in France. Phantom’s was more or less running itself now and there wasn’t anything for Ross to do, other than to keep on top of things.
And he was bored.
“Leo needs us all back early tonight,” Ward reminded Ross. “A council of war before he faces the family.”
“I gather there’s more trouble brewing,” Ross replied, yawning.
“When isn’t there?”
Nevella had five valleys, each run by a different native family. Outsiders could only run businesses in partnership with Nevellians. That was the law, and it worked well for Leo. He supplied the brains and manpower for his bar and all his other interests, including the ski school. His partners sat back, counted their share of the profits, and told themselves how astute they had been to go into business with such a hotshot. The families’ favorite contact sport was fighting amongst themselves. No longer content with outdoing one another with bigger and better facilities in their respective valleys, they were now trying to find ways to encroach on one another’s interests.
And Leo, with his sharp business brain, linguistic abilities, and diplomatic skills when it came to dealing with the sensitive locals, had gotten himself noticed by the other families because they were jealous of his success. He was sensible enough not to cross the powerful Padron family, who owned Medina valley, but it seemed they’d gotten their panties in a knot about something or other—again. Whatever their latest gripe was about, they clearly needed Leo to fix it for them. In turn, Leo had called all five of his housemates to a brainstorming session that night.
“Well, I guess all will be revealed before we get much older,” Ross said as the cable car came to a halt at the ski-school station and both men stepped out of it.
“Yeah, but it’s unusual for Leo to make a point of wanting to speak with us all,” Ward replied, scowling. “Can’t help wondering what’s going on.”
“Shit, will you look at that?” Ross pointed at the external temperature, flashing up on a neon display. “Minus twelve centigrade, plus a damned wind chill. Hope it doesn’t put the punters off.”
“Not likely to,” Ward replied, hopping onto the back of the snowmobile Ross drove the short distance to the, thankfully warm, ski school. “The tourists are on a ski vacation, and regardless of the conditions, skiing is what they’ll do. End of story.”
“Yeah, but numbers are down this season. Can’t afford to lose any business because of the weather.”
“How the fuck do you manage not to break your neck, wearing those damned things?” Ward glanced down at the ancient but sinfully comfortable cowboy boots Ross always wore to work.
“I get to stay in a nice warm office all day,” Ross replied, grinning. “It might be boring as fuck half the time, but at least I don’t have to desecrate my feet by subjecting them to damned moon boots.”
“How can it be boring with the lovely Fiona to keep you entertained?”
Ross sighed. “Fiona’s off limits.”
“Not if she has her way.” Ward grinned. “She’s dying to get her grubby little hands on your feeble body.”
“Ain’t gonna happen, pal. That sort of trouble I don’t need. Besides, she’s not into our shit.”
“How do you know?”
“I can tell. She’d want vanilla sex, and happy ever after. I don’t do either.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a point. Still, it’s a shame.”
Ross and Ward had arrived an hour before classes were due to start. It was Monday morning, and all the other instructors would be there soon, too, for the weekly meeting. Ross’s assistant, the aforementioned Fiona, was already behind her desk—Ross sometimes wondered if she slept there because he was never able to beat her to it in the mornings—and he could smell the pungent aroma of fresh coffee brewing.
“Coffee.” Ward’s nose twitched like a hound following the scent of a fox. “He doesn’t pay you enough, Fiona.”
Fiona laughed. “Morning, Ross.”
“Morning, hon,” Ross replied. “Anything I need to know about?”
“There’s some stuff. I’ve left it on your desk.”
“Thanks.”
Fiona looked hot today. Fiona always looked hot. She was a young divorcée, born and brought up in Nevella, loosely connected to the Padron family. As Ward had just reminded Ross, she had become increasingly less subtle about her interest in Ross, and he knew she would be happy to assist him with more than just running the office. But Ross was careful to keep their relationship strictly business, steering clear of her when she showed up at Hadleigh’s, which was most evenings. The Padrons had double standards. The males all had free passes to the private side of Hadleigh’s, the exclusive BDSM club, and had lost no time in notching up frequent user credits. But if Ross, a non-Nevellian, got out of line with Fiona, pressure would be put on him to do the right thing by her. Ross had played that game once before. No way would he make the same mistake twice.
“Oh, and Ross, don’t forget the applicant for the video job is coming in at ten.”
Damn, Ross had forgotten. Each ski-school had a professional videographer to capture their classes’ activities, tumbles and all. Especially the tumbles. The footage was edited by the camera person and then played back at Hadleigh’s during après-ski happy hour. It was a good way to get people into the bar, and once there, they tended to stay put.
Their resident videographer had been tempted away with a better offer from one of the other valleys, and had left without giving notice. That had been a month ago, and Ross was having trouble filling the vacancy. Half the damned population was supposedly unemployed, but it wasn’t possible to find a decent videographer who could also remain upright on skis. He’d been through two since the vacancy cropped up—the first couldn’t keep the punters in focus, the second couldn’t ski backward and hold a camcorder.
Now a woman had applied for the post. Ross pulled her CV out of a folder in his desk drawer, nodding his thanks when Fiona placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of him, somehow managing to brush his arm with her breast as she reached across him.
Darcy Sinclair, twenty-four, French mother, English father. Went to college in England, majored in cinematography, worked for a while for a small English film company but prefers to be her own boss. Claims to be a black run skier, speaks fluent French.
“She sounds too good to be true, Fiona,” Ross said, looking up from the applicant’s résumé.
“I agree. If she’s that good at her job, why would she want to work here for such a low salary?”
Fiona hated competition, and had been fiercely opposed to Ross employing the two female ski-instructors he had on staff. She always managed to intrude if Ross had reason to speak to either of them in private, and her possessiveness was starting to annoy the fuck out of him.
“I guess I’d best ask her,” he said absently. “I’ll ask her why she wants to work in Nevella, as well. Sounds to me like she could do way better.”
“What’s wrong with Nevella?” Fiona asked defensively. “I thought you liked it here.”
“This isn’t about me, and I do like Nevella.” Do I? “But this woman is young and well educated. If she wants to make a name for herself, you’d think she’d try one of the big French resorts, especially since she speaks the lingo?”
“Do you want me to sit in on the interview?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it covered.” Ross rubbed his chin, and then sighed. “If she’s any good, it’ll be just my luck for one of the other families to steal her.”
“They d
on’t need another cinematographer.”
“Yeah, like that’ll stop ’em.” Ross snorted. “This dispute gets on my fucking nerves. It’s like dealing with a bunch of kids.” He flashed a rueful grin. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re part of them.”
“Only a very distant part. I keep telling you, I don’t answer to anyone around these parts.” Okay, message received loud and clear. “Besides, it’s not the women who cause the problems.”
“No, it never is.”
“The instructors are all here for the meeting.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
* * * *
Aware of the importance of first impressions, Darcy dressed carefully for her interview with the manager of the Phantom Ski School. Tight-fitting black salopettes, a red roll-neck ultra-thin heat-retaining sweater over long underwear, and her crimson parka. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and didn’t even consider makeup. It was way too cold, and she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Besides, if she used mascara it would freeze on her lashes and they would probably snap off. She had a thinsulating red hat to match her jacket and special, ruinously expensive heat-retaining gloves, thin enough for her to operate her Camcorder without her fingers freezing up.
She had done her homework—or rather it had been done for her. The man who ran the ski school was Ross Lang, a thirty-year-old American ex-pat who hung out with the other Americans at Hadleigh’s. Originally from Colorado, and a good skier himself, he’d been in Nevella for two years. In that time he had turned the Phantom Ski School from a losing concern into a vibrant, fun outfit, with lots of attractive activities on offer for skiers of all abilities. It was now Medina Valley’s most successful ski school.