Daring to Love
The Armstrongs
Book 3
Jessica Gray
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.
Daring to Love – The Armstrongs Book 3
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2015 Jessica Gray
This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.
All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Preview I Love You Twice
Chapter 1
Charlene set her poles in the snow and then raised up her sunglasses to relish the majestic mountain panorama. Today was one of those wonderful winter days straight out of the picture book.
She scanned the skiers that were heading for the lifts, curious as to what her new private student looked like. Usually the person would book the classes with her personally, but not this time. His friend Tanner had arranged everything for him.
Even though Tanner had been very generous with what he was willing to pay, Charlene already regretted that she’d taken on this particular student. According to his friend’s description, he was a difficult case. Correct that – he was a ski instructor’s worst nightmare. A student to avoid by all means.
He had explained that Evan Miller, her student, was going to do everything he could to avoid the class, but as it was part of his therapy, Tanner was going to insure he showed up.
Charlene had asked for more of an explanation about that, and Tanner had gone on to tell her that Evan suffered from Chionophobia. She’d had to ask what that was, having never heard the word before. A phobia of snow!
How does someone become afraid of snow? And why on earth would they want to learn how to ski? Charlene sighed and continued to look for the elusive Evan Miller. Why do I always get stuck with the weird clients?
Deciding that maybe he hadn’t had the nerve to actually come outside to meet her by himself, she used her poles to release her boots from her skis, and then she hooked the skies together and stowed them in the ski racks used by the employees. Normally, she wouldn’t go searching for one of her clients, but given the circumstances and the considerable amount of money she was going to make, she changed her mind. Besides, maybe he’s not as bad as his friend had described him.
She walked around the lodge, towards the valley station, but couldn’t find anyone even remotely looking like a beginning skier. After completing the round, she sat on one of the wooden picnic tables, using the bench seat for her booted feet.
The panorama of Eagle Mountain Ski Resort was simply breathtaking and reminded her why she loved her job in the first place. The snowcapped mountains and their rivers of white that ran from the top of the highest peak like white marshmallows that had been poured over a brownie mountain.
The cornflower blue sky was completely devoid of clouds today, and the sun was shining down brightly. This was her favorite time of the year. The last of the winter snows would fall in the next few weeks, and the daytime temperatures were such that only a lightweight jacket was required on the slopes on a day like today. It was perfect.
The uncoordinated sound of someone trying to walk along the concrete patio with their skis in place had her turning her head and then watching in wide-eyed fascination. A guy – although, based upon the clothing he wore, she was merely guessing. He had the most uncoordinated ski outfit on she’d ever had the misfortune to view.
He was wearing a pair of faded puce colored ski pants, that were almost three sizes too big; they bunched around his ankles covering ski boots that could have easily been worn last century.
Those God-awful pants were paired with a neon yellow ski jacket, a wool cap, and ski goggles that had most definitely seen better days. As her eyes perused down his body, she came to rest on the skis he was abusing. Where on earth did he find those?
The skis in question would have made a stellar exhibition in an Alpine museum depicting ski gear from years ago. Wooden skis with wide blades, curled up tips, and a binding she hadn’t known still existed. Even though the man was tall, his skis were even longer, they stuck so far out in front of his feet, she marveled he could even walk in them. Let alone to ski! Those types of skis hadn’t been used in decades!
She wondered where he might be going dressed and outfitted like that, when she suddenly realized he was approaching her. What the fuck? She looked around, hoping her eyes would find some other explanation for why this odd looking guy was coming towards her with a knowing smile on his face. No such luck! When he stopped a few feet away from her and thrust out a gloved hand, she inwardly groaned.
“Hi. I’m Evan Miller. Are you Charlene Diamond?”
She paled. She couldn’t have stopped it if she tried. No way! There has to be an explanation for this. It can’t be true. Can it? He can’t be my student! She looked him up and down again and knew that if he had approached her himself about instruction, she’d have gladly forgone the money.
He took a few shuffling steps closer and she noticed his hair was dyed a bright golden yellow. A shocking color of yellow to be precise. His partially unzipped jacket revealed a nicely sculpted chest, covered with a skintight layer of protection. He actually has a great body! But that ridiculous hair! Why would anyone do that to themselves?
Sighing at the situation, she slid her boots to the ground and stood up, standing close to him and then pulling up short. Is that alcohol I smell on his breath? Charlene watched him closely for a moment, and noticed he was unsteady on his feet and his breath… The smell of stale alcohol emanating from his mouth with each breath was disgusting. It was obvious he was suffering from a bad hangover. Irresponsible jackass! She had dealt with his kind before, and there was nothing she hated more, than willful irresponsibility. She was not going to go down that road again!
Holding back the acerbic comment she wanted to make, she shook his gloved hand in a cool greeting. She eyed him up and down once again, and then crossed her arms over her chest. "You're not going in this equipment!"
"Why not?" he asked indignantly. His voice was seductive, deep with just a hint of hoarseness that made her think he’d just woken up. It sent shivers running across her body as she reacted to the sound on a visceral level and hated herself for it.
"Those skis are from the last century," the words left her mouth before she’d finished her thought. Realizing she had just insulted him, she covered her mouth
with her hand. Way to go, Charlene. Since when do you insult your clients?
She looked at him, trying to figure out how to rescue the situation. He finally took of his horrible goggles and while she was waiting for a harsh answer, he just grinned at her. The twist of his lips fit with the voice they belonged to. Seductive. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the matter at hand. His awful, inadequate and dangerous gear!
“Look, that stuff you’re wearing is dangerous. If you really want to do this, come with me and let’s get you some gear that will at least give you a fighting chance once we hit the snow.” She didn’t wait for him to follow her, she simply turned and headed towards the rental shop at the end of the patio.
Thirty minutes later, she still wondered how this was going to work. Getting him outfitted with rental gear had been like running the gauntlet. He had hidden behind her the entire time, and had refused to take off his goggles.
He’d even had the audacity to make fun of her; and at every opportunity, he was rude and obnoxious to everyone who was trying to help him. As they exited the rental shop, Charlene was relieved, but feared the worst was yet to come.
He was finally dressed in appropriate skiing gear, having exchanged his outdated stuff for black ski pants and a black jacket that actually fit him. When she’d seen him exit the changing room, she’d had to hide her reaction to his new appearance. He was great looking and in fantastic shape from what she could tell! His new beginner skis were shorter in length, freshly waxed, and they were ready to go.
“How about we get a drink?” Evan suggested as they headed towards the bunny slope.
“How about we get you out there on the snow?” she countered back. That man had nerves! A drink at 10 in the morning? Not with her.
“I don’t know. I think maybe it’s too late in the day for this. Maybe we should better leave this for tomorrow.” Too late? It’s 10 a.m. Get real, buddy!
Charlene looked at him with her strictest look and shook her head. Tanner had warned her that his friend would try to talk her out of skiing, and he had paid her extra to put up with it. “I was paid to teach you how to ski, and that’s what I’m going to do. Now, set your skis on the ground and then dig your poles into the snow on either side of the skis.”
“I think maybe I need to use the little boy’s room before we do this. I’m not feeling all that well.”
And no wonder, Sherlock! No one in their right mind ties one on the night before they’re going to hit the slopes. But she wasn’t going to give him that easy of an out. Charlene gave him a skeptical look, “Really?” She’d been hired to teach this man how to ski, and he wasn’t going to persuade her differently. Evan Miller was getting on the snow. Now!
Chapter 2
Evan held back the compliment that hovered on his lips. He had nothing but admiration for her persistence in not giving in to his whining, despite his Oscar worthy performance.
Persistence was the one character trait, he lived by: not giving up ever, ever, ever on the things that are important to him. He couldn’t be a competitive athlete if he wouldn’t have this characteristic. They all had it. Some more, other less. Then ones who were the most determined, ruthless with themselves, won, the others came in second.
In the leagues where he played, talent was only the door opener. From there on, it was hard work. Pushing yourself to your limits and beyond. Being crazy for perfection, going all-in. Every time. Persistence was what made the difference. And he admired every person who had it.
He looked into Charlene’s sweet face and could see the determination in her eyes. She handled him like a pro, and he didn’t deserve it. Not one bit. He’d been deliberately behaving badly, still pissed off at his teammates. And at himself. Not only for having drunk too much the night before, but also for getting himself into this current mess. Trouble seems to follow me around, but I’ve no one to blame but myself! Why on earth did I take his stupid bet?!
His head was ready to explode, the drums and hammers beating away inside it, causing him excruciating pain. Add in the bright sunlight, and even with his dark skiing goggles in place, he felt like vomiting. Worst hangover ever.
It was completely irresponsible to go skiing in his current state, and in any other circumstances he would have stayed home. But he knew the slopes at Eagle Mountain like the back of his hand. Since he pretended to be a complete beginner, they wouldn’t be venturing beyond the bunny slopes and he could ski those backwards with his eyes closed. Still, he hoped a good lunch would make him feel better.
He thought back to the night before and wanted to groan and cheer at the same time. Together with his teammates they’d been celebrating the end of the season. Work hard. Play hard. That was his mantra.
Nobody had worked harder than him during the last year. His hard work had paid off with winning three gold and one silver medals at the world championship, something that had never been achieved before. And he’d topped that with winning the overall World Cup. He was now officially the best skier in the world. That deserved some celebration, right?
He’d been entitled to follow the second part of his mantra – Play hard. But then things had gotten out of hand. After more drinks than Evan cared to remember, his fiercest competitor Hannes from Austria saw his opportunity for revenge. That man had been more than a little pissed off as he’d lost against Evan in every single race this year.
Hannes had taunted him, pushing his buttons to see what would send him over the edge of common sense. Evan remembered sitting in the bar trying to ignore the obnoxious guy, but when Hannes had thrown out a challenge, he was a goner. Anyone in the ski circuit knew that Evan Armstrong couldn’t resist a challenge - ever. It was like waving a red flag in the face of a bull. It didn’t even matter what the challenge was. Evan would accept it. Always.
Hannes had been around long enough to know how to get back at Evan and challenged him on his ability to conquer a woman. Evan had taken great exception to Hannes teasing that while he might have conquered the slopes, he was sitting in the bar alone.
Soon, they had upped the ante, with Evan betting that he could get any woman into his bed with his charms. Why am I so stupid? When am I going to learn to just walk away?!
Hannes had immediately latched onto the bet and proceeded to state the conditions. A third party, in the person of their mutual friend Tanner would choose the woman and set up the game. Evan had to take skiing classes with her, while pretending to be a complete beginner!
Hannes and the rest of the stupid team are probably still laughing at my stupidity. Here I am, stuck taking skiing lessons from a stupid instructor, dressed in clothing they found in the long-ago lost and found bins.
After taking one look at the gear he was expected to wear today, Evan had almost backed out. Almost. But then the challenge had been struck and he never backed out. Ever.
When he’d left the hotel, his teammates had still been sleeping off their drinking spree. Thank god! They’ll probably come pester me later on today! His attitude hadn’t gotten any better as the hammering in his head made each step worse than the one before.
But then he’d seen Charlene, and was mesmerized by her. For the first time since being woken up this morning by Tanner and Hannes, he was almost thankful that he’d lost that bet. She was anything but stupid. She was gorgeous. Awesome. Charlene was the sexiest woman he had ever seen in his life. And he’d seen many.
Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all? In fact, maybe it could be fun!
He watched her now, her hair peeking out from beneath her hat. A few dark strands had escaped to curl around her neck and temples. His breath quickened while he scoped her out.
She was wearing the standard instructor's uniform, consisting of a red one-piece overall with a belt around the waist. The belt accentuated her slim waist and her hourglass figure. He could tell she had perky breasts, and her ass was nothing short of perfection. I wonder how she looks without all of that padding on.
Evan knew he had looked ridiculou
s at best, before she’d taken him to rent new gear. The non-fitting skiing stuff his teammates had chosen for him to wear today, were the kind of things his grandpa would have worn when he was young. Very unflattering!
What’s more, his normally dark brown hair featured an awful color of yellow, almost golden in fact. Courtesy of another bet he’d lost. The difference being, he hadn’t minded losing that bet. Not. At. All.
He’d been the high favorite for winning the world championship, but hadn’t want to bear all the pressure that came with that role. To help alleviate the pressure, he always bet against himself with someone. This time, he’d bet that if he won two or more times, he would dye his hair its current color. Golden yellow.
He’d of course won, not twice, but three times. Downhill, Super G and the Combination, coming in second in the Giant Slalom race. Now his hair featured this awful color, but it had been worth it!
"Hey, Evan! Eyes up here!" Charlene’s no nonsense voice cut through his thoughts.
Of course, she had caught him ogling her. She probably thinks I’m an asshole. Shame poured over him like a cold shower. He wasn’t a jerk.. he stopped himself. Several episodes flashed across his brain and he cringed. I guess I am an asshole.. Sometimes.
He quickly looked up into her face and her bright brown eyes. She stared at him with a stern look that could cut through stone, but even her stern expression couldn't hide her beauty. She’s beautiful!
Trying to get it together, he mentally chided himself to stop being a jerk and just get through this class. His head was pounding so much, the smart thing to do would be to go back to sleep, but he’d agreed to this stupid bet. And Evan Armstrong never backed out. Ever. Not even if it would be the better choice.
His hurting head would just have to suck it up. On a good day, she’d already be on the way into his bed. Feeling unwell or not, Evan had a reputation to uphold. I’m not known as a womanizer for no reason. I’ve earned that title! Charlene would be easy meat. And Hannes would lose the bet big time.
Daring to Love: A Contemporary Romance (The Armstrongs Book 3) Page 1
