by Zara Chase
“Okay?” he asked. “Sometimes I forget you’re new to all this. I hope I didn’t get too carried away.”
“You were superb.” She loved him in all his moods, but on the rare occasions when he became unsure of himself and reverted to little-boy-lost mode, she loved him best of all. “That was beyond amazing.”
“Is your butt all right? Did I spank you too hard?”
She treated him to a seductive smile. “I asked you to punish me, and I believe you went easy on me.” She reached up a hand and stroked his chin. “Stop treating me as though I was made of porcelain.”
“Just checking.” He pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I haven’t been able to think about anything except fucking you senseless the entire morning. That’s what you do to me, and I’m not a bit happy about it.”
She stifled a grin. “Me neither.”
“Yeah, I got that part.” He shook his head. “You are one very sensual lady. You know that?”
“Keep reminding me.”
“Count on it.”
He produced a box of tissues from somewhere and cleaned them both up. Then he helped her back into her clothes.
“What are you planning this afternoon?”
Darcy froze, and the intimacy of the moment passed. “Editing my stuff from this morning, and catching up on sleep.” She strove for a playful tone, but probably failed miserably if his bemused reaction was anything to go by.
“Take care. The weather’s going to change. There’s a storm on the way. Come by the bar about five,” he said. “Use the side door you came out of last night. Here’s a key.”
Oh shit, he’s given me a key! “Okay, will do.”
“If it starts to snow hard, stay put at yours and I’ll come get you.”
“It’s not far, Ross. I’ll be fine walking through the snow.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Oh, all right.” It was so nice to have someone who really cared about her, albeit temporarily.
“Come on, I’ll sneak you past the guardhouse.”
* * * *
Ross frowned as he watched her from his office window getting onto the cable car to go back down to the village. Something was off with her today. Oh, she’d enjoyed the sex as much as he had, no question about that, but he sensed she had shut herself off from him in some way. He had her body but absolutely no idea what was going on inside her head. She had something on her mind and wasn’t in the mood to share. Ross told himself he was pushing her. He needed to back off and give her the space she’d asked him for. She might be a natural at the games he wanted to play with her, but it was still a big adjustment for her to make. But giving her the time she needed was easier said than done. He’d never felt like this before…well, not since forever, and he didn’t want them to have secrets from each other.
He had a massive elephant haunting his past, but it was in the past. It would always be there, would always make him sad, but he was learning to live with it. He’d never spoken to any woman about it before, but he actually wanted to tell Darcy, and he would when the time was right. Perhaps that would encourage her to open up to him in return.
The afternoon dragged, Fiona was a royal pain in the butt, intruding on him with all sorts of feeble excuses, bringing stuff to his attention she would normally have dealt with herself. It was as though she’d picked up on his interest in Darcy and was staking a prior claim. Dream on, lady!
“Don’t forget it’s curry night at the Aswain tonight,” she said at one point. “Fancy going along? I know how much you like spicy food.”
“Can’t make it tonight, I have plans.”
“Oh.” Fiona’s face fell. “Going anywhere nice?”
Ross’s phone rang, saving him from the trouble of answering.
He headed off home as soon as he could, keen not to get caught in the storm that was brewing. He told Fiona to lock up and leave, too, but she remained sitting at her desk with a face like thunder. Ross tried not to worry about her little woman scorned gig. Even with her connections to the Padron family, there was nothing she could do to hurt him. Was there?
Back at the bar, he found Leo and Rick in earnest discussion in the private lounge.
“Hey, what’s up?” Ross asked. “This looks serious.”
“Rick just heard that Darwin valley are setting up a rival husky business, in time for the Russian’s visit.”
“They’ll never manage it in time.”
“Perhaps not. What concerns me,” Leo said, frowning, “is they must have heard of our plans to extend our runs, and want to compete.”
“They can’t have done,” Ross said without hesitation. “Only the six of us knew about that.”
“Yeah well, why the sudden interest in dogs, then?” Rick asked.
He had a point. “Everyone knows we have them here, and how popular they are. They must know we’d use them in our bid to attract the Russians’ investment, and so they’ve decided to give us a run for our money. Pun intended.”
“I don’t give a shit about that,” Rick replied moodily. “My concern is they’ll bring in people who don’t know what they’re doing, with dogs that aren’t properly trained, and it will be the dogs who suffer.”
“Won’t they need a license?” Ross asked.
Rick shrugged. “In Nevella?”
“Yeah, good point.”
“I have a nasty feeling about this one,” Leo said pensively. “Are we absolutely sure no one overheard our discussions?”
“What’s the matter, Ross?” Rick asked. “You’ve gone deathly pale.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Tell me,” Leo replied. “This is the Garcia family we’re talking about, and I wouldn’t put anything past them. You know as well as I do their tactics make the Padrons look like a bunch of pussycats.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Ross said, sitting down before his knees gave out on him. “But when you and I were in here last night, Rick, we…er, weren’t alone. Darcy was in the bathroom.”
“The new photographer?” He arched his brows. “Why didn’t you say?”
“Well, she was a bit embarrassed to be caught doing what we were doing, which was actually relatively innocent, but she didn’t see it that way. Anyway, she asked me not to say she was there.”
“Did you talk about the new husky run in her hearing?” Leo asked sharply.
“Yeah, but Darcy wouldn’t—”
“You said yourself she was overqualified for the job,” Leo pointed out.
“Yeah, but she explained why she wanted it. Besides, she’s not from around here, and has no contact with the families.”
Ross wondered if he was trying to convince himself or his buddies. A part of Darcy had been inaccessible to Ross from the word go, and he wondered now if she really was here just to get one over on them. It didn’t seem feasible, and part of him withered up and died at the very thought, but still, it persevered. Then there was Fiona saying her references didn’t check out. He’d thought it was just Fiona being ultra-possessive, but what if there was more to it than that?
“Okay, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Leo said. “It’s probably nothing to do with Darcy, but we need to be sure. Ross, do a proper background check on her, see if anything jumps out at you. And if you can get a chance to look at her cell phone, check the numbers called.”
Ross frowned. “That seems a bit extreme.”
“It’s the best way to exonerate her, buddy,” Leo said, standing up and slapping Ross’s shoulder. “We have too much riding on our investment here in Medina Valley to piss off the Padron family.”
Chapter Twelve
Darcy returned to her studio, took a quick shower, and changed into street clothes. She checked her phone for the tenth time. Still no word about Chloe. Worse yet, Ross had been right about the weather. Heavy clouds had wiped out the blue sky, and snow threatened. Infuriated, she placed a call to the Garcia residence. It went straight to voice mail. D
amnation! She thumped a throw pillow in sheer frustration. What was she supposed to do now?
She could get in her car, drive over to the other side of the country, and bang at the Garcia door, refusing to leave until she saw her daughter. But if Garcia didn’t want her to be admitted, she would never get past the gates. The place was like a fortress, patrolled by his own private security. Garcia was playing mind games with her, and winning every hand. It was his way of tormenting her into doing what he wanted her to. He would probably get his way, too, because he and the weather between them weren’t leaving her with a whole lot of choices. Even if she did decide to take a drive, she could well get stuck in the wrong place, and how would she explain that away to Ross?
She tried her mother’s cell phone, knowing she was wasting her time and that it would go to voicemail, too. It did. Too angry to sit still, she paced the length of her miniscule room, trying to think how best to strike back. Inspiration failed to strike. Brooding would do nothing except give her a headache to go with her broken heart. In need of a distraction, she forced herself to look at the footage she’d shot that morning and knock it into shape. Had she not been so preoccupied, she would have been pleased with her efforts. As it was, she worked on autopilot, barely taking notice of the wobbly downhill runs and spectacular tumbles that she’d preserved for posterity.
Done with the video, Darcy was too wound up to sleep, and couldn’t settle to anything else. The snow was falling heavily now, and she hoped Ross had gotten down from the mountain before they shut the cable car down. His only other route would be by road, and even though the ploughs would be out keeping the tarmac clear, she didn’t like to think of him having to do that.
Half an hour before she needed to leave for Hadleigh’s, she thought, drumming her fingers on the windowsill. Presumably Ross would make good on his promise and come to get her. A warm feeling replaced the anger and dull ache of loneliness created by Chloe’s enforced absence.
Darcy threw herself full-length on her bed, thinking about the turn events had taken. She had known Ross for little more than a day. Instead of putting all her efforts into getting the inside skinny on Leo’s plans for the Russians so she could get her beloved daughter back and hightail it out of Dodge, she had only succeeded in falling completely and helplessly in love with Ross. If any of her girlfriends had confessed to virtual love at first sight, she would have laughed in their faces. It simply wasn’t possible to know your own mind that quickly. And yet it had happened to her, and she had never been more sure of her feelings. So where did that leave her?
With only one option, she thought, sitting bolt upright. It was time to go on the offensive. Ross kept banging on about trust, which was a two-way street. She would place her trust in him, tell him everything tonight, and somehow they would find a way to get Chloe back without compromising Leo’s status in Nevella.
Darcy’s lethargy was replaced by frenetic energy. Resolved, she felt a whole lot better about herself because she knew she had reached the right—the only—decision. Even if Ross couldn’t forgive her, by coming clean she would eventually be able to forgive herself. She sprang to her feet, ran a brush through her hair, and applied minimal makeup. She glanced at her pale reflection and willed herself to see this thing through.
Five o’clock came and went. There was no sign of Ross, and no message from him, either. A vague feeling of unease gripped her. That was so unlike him. She thought about calling him to see if he was coming for her, but decided against it. She had told him it was unnecessary, and so it was. It would only take her five minutes to walk to Hadleigh’s, even in these conditions.
Darcy pulled on her parka, her moon boots and woolly hat, and put her hood up over the whole lot. Suitably insulated, she opened the door and set off with her laptop bag over her shoulder. The wind bit into her face, swirling snow of a storm in full force blurred her vision. The flashing lights of a snow plough got gradually closer, pushing snow from the road onto the edge of the sidewalk. Fortunately, skiers on vacation and out for a good time were a hardy lot, not to be put off an evening’s après ski by something as insignificant as a violent snow storm. In spite of the snow plough’s best efforts to cover it up, a path had already been cleared on the sidewalk by dozens of pairs of moon boots, all heading for the only place in town to be seen at.
Hadleigh’s.
Since the bar was already open, Darcy chose not to use her key. She entered with the rest of the thirsty skiers, and was surprised not to see Ross, Leo, or any of the other housemates clustered in their usual spot at the end of the bar. Her feeling that something was wrong intensified, and she was filled with an urgent desire to go in search of Ross. But she was stuck now. The only way to get into the private area was through the door with a numerical code, and she didn’t know that code. She was left with the option of going out in the cold again and using her key, hanging around in the bar until one of them appeared, or calling Ross’s cell.
Or she could get on and set up her video, which is what she decided to do. It would give Ross a chance to come and find her without making her look too needy. Perhaps he had got stuck up the mountain, she thought, her anxiety increasing. There were any number of explanations for his absence, but she headed for the control room beneath the DJ’s station, and didn’t waste time dwelling on them. Now that she had decided to tell him the truth, she was anxious to get on with it, and practiced what she planned to say to him as she played with her laptop feed. She heard a cheer go up when her video went live on the big screens. At least she’d made the punters happy.
She emerged in the bar, saw Ross looking his usual devastating self in his spot at the end of the bar and felt herself relax. But her relief was short lived. She walked up to him and before she even opened her mouth, she could tell by the chilling cast to his expression that she’d been found out.
“Come with me,” he said, grasping her arm and all but dragging her into the guys’ lounge.
* * * *
Ross had trouble looking at her, much less touching her. Having a conversation with her was out of the question. So much for his judgment, he thought with a cynical twist of his lips. He had trusted her, thought he could have with her what Ward had with Tanya, and yet she was only here so she could steal a march on Leo and the Padron family. The evidence was irrefutable, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so angry, so used, so in need of venting his rage on something. She had played him like a Stradivarius, and her performance had been nothing short of virtuoso level—he’d at least give her that much. Fuck it, she had even let him spank her, and stick a plug up her ass, just to earn his trust. She really was a piece of work.
“Ross, you’re hurting me.” He glanced down at his fingers, holding her upper arm in a viselike grip, and relaxed them fractionally. “What’s wrong?”
Christ, she was still playing the innocent! He sent her a hostile look, but didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he pushed her into the lounge ahead of him, and closed the door behind them with a loud bang. Leo stood up, looking as angry and disillusioned as Ross felt.
“Care to explain?” Ross asked, throwing a printout of her daughter’s birth certificate in front of her.
She looked at it, her face lost what little color it already possessed, and she collapsed into the nearest chair. Darcy dropped her head into her splayed hands, and quietly sobbed.
“It’s a little late for that,” Ross said in a tone of subdued menace.
“It’s not how it looks,” she choked.
“Really?” Ross imbued the word with a whole wealth of sarcasm. “You have a daughter with Garcia’s son. Garcia just happens to be head of one of the Nevella families, but I don’t suppose I need to tell you that. So how is not what it appears to be?”
“Garcia has my daughter. That’s how he forced me to come here,” Darcy said, raising a tear-stained face to Ross. “I’d decided on the way over here tonight to tell you all about it.”
“Of course you had!”
> “I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s true.”
“Tell us then,” Leo said, his voice silk on steel.
Darcy rummaged in her purse for a tissue, blew her nose, and then focused her gaze on them both. They were seated together on the couch opposite her chair. Her eyes were still watery but her gaze didn’t waiver. Perhaps they were finally going to hear the truth, Ross thought, but it was too late to regain whatever it was he thought they had going between them.
“I met Ramos Garcia three years ago when I was working for that film company,” she began. “And I did work for them, in spite of the fact that your Fiona appears to have doubts about it. I know it was her who made you doubt,” she added, when Ross shot her a look. “I got a call from a friend of mine who still works for the company, saying she’d been asking about me.”
“Then why wasn’t she told you did work there?” Ross asked.
“I already told you, I was freelance, and the person Fiona talked to didn’t bother to access the right files. She’s new.”
“You were telling us about Garcia,” Leo reminded her.
“Yes well, his father was one of the film’s backers, which gave Ramos a legitimate reason to lord it over us lesser mortals, although I didn’t see it like that at the time. He was charming, witty, entertaining, and half the women on set fell for him, me included. He and I hit it off, and…well, we had a relationship. I thought we had something worth working on, but I was wrong.”
“Ramos has a reputation,” Leo said mildly.
“I know that now.” She shook her head. “To cut a long story short, we’d been together for a couple of months when I got ill. I couldn’t take the pill so Ramos used condoms instead.” Ross winced at the thought of her with another man, making him even angrier than he already was. It shouldn’t matter to him who she fucked, but somehow it still did. “One must have split or something, because I found I was pregnant. That discovery coincided with Ramos deciding he wasn’t ready for fatherhood.” She shrugged. “He rode off into the sunset with his latest squeeze, I went back to England and had Chloe.”
