I want more. I want to be his girl.
“Maybe I was wrong to say that, to make that choice. It happens. I’m not infallible Tash. I’m just a man. Hard to believe, I know.” he grinned.
She snorted and he lightly poked her in the ribs. Then they stared, eyes locked, Nate’s pupils darkening in the firelight. The silence in the hut felt intense but starkly honest. Everything had been pared back to what really mattered. There was no place to hide, nowhere to escape to, not in a hurry anyway.
“So, you were saying something about being wrong?” Tash asked.
“It doesn’t happen often so I wouldn’t be quite so smug if I were you.” He laughed but then his expression became more serious. “I just think what’s the point of everything I’m trying to do and even the bloody book I’m writing if I don’t practice what I preach. That, you know, the crap in people’s pasts needn’t be insurmountable. That everyone matters.”
“Hmm, not the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Tash rolled her eyes.
“What is the most romantic thing anyone’s said to you?” Nate quirked his lips, edging closer, the gleam in his eyes more than just a reflection of the firelight.
Tash considered. The most unromantic propositions she’d received sprang more readily to mind. There weren’t exactly too many romantic moments to choose from.
“Hmm, that would have to be ‘You’re bloody gorgeous’.” She picked the least offensive of the various compliments she’d received.
“You are bloody gorgeous.” Nate pulled her fully onto his lap.
She could feel his erection beneath her thigh. Her nerve endings fizzed and her body yelled at her to stop talking, to let it take over, because it could manage quite well on its own without any of that stupid thinking stuff, thank you.
But still the niggle buzzed at the back of her mind, like an annoying wasp, trapped in her skull.
You’re just one of his projects.
“I need to know that I’m not…not just one of your projects.” She turned her face away as he moved in for another kiss. “Madeleine said I was.”
“Do you want me to fire Madeleine?” Nate asked, the corners of his lips twitching.
Shall I call his bluff and say yes?
She grimaced. “Seriously Nate, I need to know, am I just going to be a chapter in your book? Your actual book that is, that wasn’t supposed to be a crappy metaphor.”
“You’re not a project Tash, I most definitely don’t see you as work. Quite the opposite,” Nate said firmly. “I think we have a connection that’s special and I want to carry on seeing you after my month at the chalet is up. There are lots of flights between London and Geneva. You shouldn’t give a toss what other people say. I don’t.”
Tash believed him. She imagined he wouldn’t care what anyone thought, not even the Prime Minister. He cared about making money to fund his projects, his charities. He really did have integrity. Not to mention a sense of humour and pretty amazing skills in bed.
“Tash?”
“Hmm,” she murmured, distracted, nuzzling his neck.
“There isn’t an invisible line between my work and myself,” Nate said thoughtfully. “My work is what I believe in.”
“What? Making money?” Tash snorted again, her lips twitching.
“No smartass, although I am pretty good at that as it happens. Making money is fun.”
“Are you going to invest in Scott’s business? They’re really lovely people.” Tash looked up at him imploringly.
“Ah, so that’s why you’re sleeping with me?” Nate raised an eyebrow and pretended to flinch when she poked him. “Well even though they are nice people I’d never invest because of that.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” Tash sighed.
“But I will be investing because it’s a sound business opportunity. The Swiss franc is rock solid, much safer than the pound or Euro, and with the public investment in Verbier to develop mountain biking tourism it’s only going to get better. Plus, I have to say there’s a certain…irony in my investing in a business that relieves the super-rich of their cash. After all I’m going to be pumping lots of it into schemes helping the less advantaged. I help to…level things, I suppose you could say.”
“You’re taking from the rich and giving to the poor.” Tash giggled. “You’re Robin Effing Hood!”
“I’ve been called many things but I’ve never been called that before.” Nate laughed and pulled her tighter. His warmth radiated through her body, filling her with a peculiar lightness, as though she might float up to the ceiling of the hut.
“I like it,” she said. “Can’t see you in green tights though.”
Nate laughed and slid one warm hand up the inside of Tash’s top, stroking her bare flesh and tweaking her lace covered nipples.
“So you’re absolutely sure I’m not a project?” Tash asked, hating herself for being so needy but unable to stop herself asking.
“No,” he replied. “Unless you’ve got a secret business plan tucked away in your knicker drawer?”
“Nope, I don’t even have a knicker drawer, just shared floor space under the bunks.” She let out a tiny sigh. “I just need to know why…why are you with me?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Of course.” She grinned.
“Okay, I’ll give you one. I meant it when I said it takes an extra something to survive a crappy childhood and come out an okay person.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger you mean?”
“It does, from what I’ve seen, yes.” Nate replied thoughtfully. “Some people do give up. The giving up can take the form of addictions, being institutionalised, signing on with no intention of finding work, oh, all sorts of ways…Or you get over it, leave it in the past and move forward.”
“That’s what I thought I had done.” Tash nestled against Nate, his firm muscle against her slighter frame.
“You did, you just brought a lot of excess baggage with you to Switzerland. But everyone needs a helping hand sometimes.”
“Hmm. So, what’s the title of your book?” she asked. “Give up or Get Over it’? Or ‘Get over it and Get on with it’?”
“Hmm not bad ideas, they could make good chapter headings, but while we’re talking about getting on with it…” His hands snaked down inside her leggings to caress her bottom.
“Ahhh…I’m um, still waiting for more compliments,” Tash gasped out the words with difficulty, her body almost at tipping point already as his fingers slipped under the lace edge of her knickers and plunged inside her, stroking the wetness up and over her clit.
“You’re smart, you’re strong and you’re funny,” Nate said in a low voice, his breath warm against her ear.
“You forgot sexy.” She gasped and wriggled against his erection.
He groaned. “I think you’re sexy but you’re going to have to take all your clothes off, just so I can remind myself and make sure.”
“Cheeky git,” she muttered, yanking her hoodie and vest top over her head.
“Daft mare,” he replied, helping her out of her leggings.
He pretended to scrutinise her body in the firelight. “Oh yes. Definitely sexy. You’re beautiful Natasha. And you know you’re special, right?”
“No one has ever called me special.” Tears burned at the back of Tash’s eyes but she wouldn’t cry. This time she felt special. Not just an easy lay or the bolshy girl with the pink hair, nor the girl who grew up in foster care. And she didn’t mind him using her full name.
She was Natasha and that was okay.
This wasn’t a happy ending because this wasn’t an ending, this was a happy beginning.
Beginning to trust.
Beginning to hope.
Beginning to love.
Change isn’t always a bad thing.
“Their loss,” Nate muttered, pulling his clothes off and sliding his hands over her breasts and then down between her legs.
And then there
was no more talking. Just two bodies becoming one by the light of the flickering fire in a tiny mountain hut surrounded by a thick blanket of pristine, powder snow.
More snowflakes fell outside the cabin windows as they lay entwined. Fresh snow created a new blank canvas, covering over the old and making the landscape new again.
Also by Lorraine Wilson…
Secret Crush of a Chalet Girl
Confessions of a Chalet Girl
Revenge of a Chalet Girl
Chalet Girls Plays Cupid
Lorraine Wilson
I live in Wiltshire with my husband but love to travel and have lived in four continents. From playing amidst Roman ruins in Africa as a child to riding a Sultan’s racehorse in the Middle East as a teen, I’ve many experiences to draw on for the stories I’ve been writing ever since I can remember. When I’m not writing you’ll find me listening to audiobooks while I sew or design handbags, usually with a rescue terrier or two curled up on my feet!
www.facebook.com/LorraineWilsonWriter
@Romanceminx
About HarperImpulse
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Rebellion of a Chalet Girl: (A Novella) (Ski Season, Book 5) Page 11
