Secrets of a Chalet Girl (7 page)

He hadn’t been able to bear the bleak look in her eyes when he’d taken her sunglasses off. Her earlier irritation at his efforts to help her, however much she’d tried to hide it, had rubbed at him like a badly fitting ski boot. But one look at Flora’s tear sodden face and something had tugged deep inside him, a primal urge to draw her to him and try to take care of her, if she’d let him.

The urge to fix and help was such a strong one he’d never been able to resist it – from injured birds and stray dogs as a child to broken women. This felt like something more than his usual cursed inability to ever let anything go. It was a deep connection that blew him away whenever Flora allowed herself to look into his eyes, whenever she didn’t shy away from him like a wild horse evading a lasso.

Flora climbed back into his bed, drawing the duvet up over her body, hiding again, her urgency seemingly depleted. He slid in next to her, pulling her into his arms, cuddling her back. He wondered if she’d be more likely to talk to him if she couldn’t see his face.

Obviously she was ashamed of something but he really didn’t see what she could’ve done that would be so terrible.

“You need to talk about it,” he said, lazily stroking her arm.

“I just found out someone I cared about has passed away. He died of a heart attack and it was a bit of a shock.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Zac murmured quietly. “Did you know him well?”

“Yes, he was my ex’s dad and my old boss. And, well, there’s something else - it was supposed to be my wedding day today.” Flora sighed as she snuggled back against him.

“Oh?”

Whatever I was imagining I wasn’t expecting that.

“Yep. But I couldn’t do it, he was…wrong for me.”

Zac stayed silent but continued to stroke, to soothe, to encourage her words to flow with the tips of his fingers. Teasing her words from her as he’d teased her body earlier.

“I couldn’t cope with his mood swings and he was controlling, really controlling, you know?”

“I think I do, yes,” Zac sighed, pulling her closer, the stirrings of anger bubbling deep inside him. The dormant volcano always rumbled, the lava of anger churning in his belly, whenever something happened to remind him of his father.

He’d had a masterclass in the controlling type in his dad. The thought of Flora involved with anyone like his dad made his gut clench.

“Then you did the right thing.”

“How can you be so sure?” She twisted round to face him, seemingly ready to engage. “I haven’t even told you everything…”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“Not…right now… Sorry.”

“That’s fine. But can you tell me why you were crying earlier? You said it was meant to be your wedding day. Was it that or…did something happen earlier? Has someone upset you?” She definitely hadn’t been this upset earlier when she’d left his chalet. Distant yes, but not distraught.

If anyone’s hurt her, I’ll…

“The email I got earlier telling me about the heart attack, it came from my ex’s sister, we used to be good friends.” She bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears again. “The family blame me, they say it was stress…”

He wiped away a tear on her cheek with his thumb.

“Hey.” He placed a soft kiss on her trembling lower lip. “You can’t take responsibility for someone else’s health or their actions. You could hardly marry just to keep the in-laws happy, that’s not fair.”

“I sort of know that on one level,” she admitted, eyes huge and threatening to brim over again. “But he was like family to me. My own parents aren’t really the happy family types. Tom’s family became my family and they were under a lot of stress. Maybe I should have stayed, helped them. Perhaps I was selfish.”

He gently nudged her shoulders to bring her back from the dark place she’d vanished to.

“No excuses. Don’t make excuses for him,” he said, exasperated, her story so horribly familiar it prodded and bated the slumbering volcano through the iron bars of his control. “Did he make you miserable? Undermine you? Belittle you?”

Did he hurt you?

She nodded slowly.

Zac took a deep breath. “Were you afraid of him?”

“Yes,” she replied, burying her face deep into the pillow.

He wanted to bring back the sassy girl who’d walked up to him in the bar and surprised him with a kiss, the girl who had dreams and a talent that’d been stifled.

His jaw tensed and he closed his eyes for a minute, trying to contain the volcano, trying not to think about the things that would lead to its eruption. He held her, murmuring nonsense and trying to comfort her while hiding his own turmoil. It took all his control to prevent the rigid fear that had crept into his muscles from spreading throughout his body like a crippling virus. He hoped she couldn’t feel it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

“I wish it could be,” she replied after a pause.

“You’re here and you’re safe.” He said. “And you’re not responsible.”

She shuddered against him, turning and running her hands over his body, stoking his desire again.

His brain argued that this wasn’t wise. She was vulnerable… but it was what she wanted, maybe what she needed. Sex could be healing and life affirming; he knew that.

And right now there wasn’t anything else he’d rather been doing. The holiday period yawned out ahead of him, it was ages before the office re-opened and he’d be busy again.

If he was honest with himself he needed this as much as she did. Flora kissed him passionately and then pulled away.

“What were you planning to do today?” She shuffled up the bed and sat up. “I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your day on the slopes. Were you heading for the Snow Park at La Chaux, isn’t that where all the boarders go?”

“It’s fine, I’ve been quite happy with the other activities on offer.” Zac lightly squeezed her thigh under the duvet. “We could go get some lunch if you’re up to it.”

“Maybe not the canteen.” Flora rolled her eyes. “They must think I’m a nutter.”

“Hardly. You won’t be the first person to ever cry in public.” He shrugged.

“Have you ever cried in public?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Well…no. In fact … I haven’t ever cried, not that I can remember.” Zac shifted uncomfortably, wishing they could get back to the subject of lunch.

“What, never?” Her eyes widened.

“Erm, no.” The uncomfortable sensation stretched its grip into her chest.

I would never give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d got to me.

“Shall we go sit in the sun for lunch? Fancy a Croque Monsieur?”

I never cried because I couldn’t.

“Okay.” She stared at him as though reading his thoughts.

He looked away, unnerved.

Sitting in the warm winter sunshine Flora titled her head back and let the warmth heal and restore her.

Maybe this could be a short-term fling? If she set an end to it, a ‘best before’ date, then she could have fun without worrying about getting involved.

Because she needed to be single, had to be much stronger than she felt right now, before she started on a new relationship. But a fling with Zac needn’t jeopardise that.

“You look happy.” Zac had returned from the bar and put the drinks down on the wooden trestle table of the Chalet-style bar.

The wedding. I’ll let myself see Zac until Holly’s wedding. After that there’ll be no reason to see him again, it will be easier to make a break before it can get too heavy. I’m just dipping my toe in the water, that’s all…

“It must be the Zac effect.” She grinned. Her body certainly appreciated his way of cheering her up. Every inch of skin had been thoroughly caressed, she was sure she glowed from the attentions he’d lavished on her. “Maybe we should market it?”

“I think I’ll stick to the day job.” Zac laughed. The darkness she’d seen in his eyes earlier had disappeared.

How can someone never cry?

What was Zac’s secret? Everyone had secrets.

Even she had stuff she’d never told a soul, simply could not talk about. She liked that Zac had seen her at her messiest worst and was still here. He hadn’t gone running for the mountain peaks. She was sure a lesser guy would have.

“So what is the day job?”

“I’m a management consultant, I work in Geneva, I have a flat there. Do you know Geneva very well?”

“Not really.” She shrugged apologetically. “I went straight to the train station when I got off the plane.”

“I’ll have to show you round. What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I’m tagging on to Holly and Scott’s Christmas, they’ve got lots of guests over for the wedding. It’ll be a little awkward I think. Scott’s parents are coming and I think I’m going to feel in the way.”

“So you’re not using the time off to see your parents?”

“No, my parents live in Thailand and they aren’t really into Christmas, never have been.” She grimaced, thinking about one unhappy childhood Christmas in particular. She’d spent it wishing her family could be like everybody else’s – longing for a Christmas tree or stocking fillers at the end of her bed instead of a lecture on the immorality of consumerism and being told to give her Christmas money to charity. She’d only been eight!

If I ever have children I’m going to spoil them rotten.

She blinked hard.

“What about you? Where are your family based?”

“They live just outside Geneva, a little town called Coppet. I’ve no siblings, I’m an only child.”

“Oh, me too! So, you’re going to theirs for Christmas day?”

Fleetingly she thought of her own parents and wished she had someone waiting for her for Christmas lunch.

“No,” he replied abruptly, his jaw tensing and the darkness she’d seen earlier reappearing to shadow his features.

She reached under the table to stroke his leg, saying nothing. Gratifyingly he relaxed his rigid posture.

“Would you like to hang out for Christmas? I know somewhere I think you’d love. It would be fun to have some company and such a shame not to use your time off to see a bit of Switzerland. What with Scott only employing Brits and catering to the UK market you’re not really experiencing Swiss culture.”

Fun, yes. Nothing heavy. Hanging out was nice and casual.

“I’d like to do that, thanks.” She smiled, relaxing. “Am I allowed to know where we’re going?”

“I think I’ll keep it as a surprise,” he shifted in his chair. “And tickling my leg isn’t going to persuade me.”

She laughed and withdrew her hand. “Looks like I need to spend some time finding your ticklish spot.”

“Or we could play Truth or Dare again.”

Truth – I like you. Dare – I dare myself to spend time with you without getting in too deep. Forfeit? Hmm, I’d be very happy to give up my bunk-bed and exchange it for your king size bed.

Very happy indeed.

Hanging out wasn’t the same as going out. Everyone knew that. And if she ended it after the wedding it needn’t turn into anything serious. She had to believe that because what Zac was offering her was far too tempting to turn down…

Flora just about managed not to drool as she followed Zac into the plush entrance of the Mirador Kempinski. Soothing classical music played in the background and a delicious scent of jasmine permeated the air. Uniformed staff beamed at them as though they were the most important people on the planet.

She’d thought he was taking her to some kind of remote log cabin or something authentic, not to a five star spa hotel. She wandered over to the plate glass wall that ran the length of the lobby to look at the view while Zac talked to the staff.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, taking in the magnificent view down across Lac Léman to Evian and the French Alps. The mountains sparkled ice white with fresh snowfall, contrasting with the vivid blue of the sky. Down below the lake shimmered and danced in the sunlight, dotted with tiny boats with billowing sails.

It was possibly the best view she’d ever seen in her life.

“I thought you’d like the view here. It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Zac turned towards her, smiling at her reaction.

“We’ve upgraded you to the Presidential suite sir.” The front of house man handed Zac a form to sign. “If you’d both like to come with me? Don’t worry about your bags, Mademoiselle, they will be brought to the room and if you give us your car key we’ll make sure it’s parked for you.”

Flora’s eyebrows shot up when she saw the suite. She tried to bite back her reaction – it wasn’t cool to act too excitedly, was it? But this was the best hotel room she’d ever seen. It was easily three times the size of the flat she’d shared with Tom back in England. It had its own sitting room and library, not to mention its own dining room, kitchen area with cappuccino machine and three separate terraces to sit out on, all overlooking the jaw-dropping view. The bathroom had a sumptuous Jacuzzi bath set into the middle of the floor and enticing packets of bath salts and expensive lotions.

When they were finally left alone Flora turned to Zac, grinning wildly.

“This is the best Christmas present anyone’s ever given me. It’s fantastic here, I’m not sure I ever want to leave!”

“Glad you like it. I must admit I wasn’t expecting to be upgraded, they must have had a cancellation, or…perhaps they thought my father had made the booking, I didn’t leave my first name.” Zac gazed pensively out at the view, frowning. “Oh well, we’re here, that’s what matters.”

“Who is your father?” she asked. “Someone important?”

“Sort of - he’s known locally at least.” Zac turned to her and pulled her into a hug. “And my parents dine at Le Patio fairly often but anyway, I don’t want to talk about them. It’s nice to spend Christmas with someone…special.”

“Oh, I’m special am I?” She nudged him playfully and snuggled into his chest, trying hard not to think about what would happen when this was over. She just had to try to hold back emotionally. Just? Huh, because that was going to be easy, wasn’t it?

“Oh yes.” Zac pulled her over closer to him, his hands on the small of her back. “Don’t you know you’re special?”

Flora thought hard. Her parents had never been particularly demonstrative or generous with their praise. She’d always been left feeling distinctly lacking, never quite able to measure up to their high standards. Tom had sometimes made her feel special but then he’d also made her feel as worthless as it was possible to feel too.

“Well… I suppose,” she lied. She wanted to believe she could be special, but…

How special can this relationship be if I’ve already set a ‘best-before’ date on it?

It wasn’t meant to mean anything. They were hanging out for the holidays, both at a loose end, keen to enjoy each other’s company.

But it’s going to be sad when Christmas is over and we go our separate ways…

The rogue thought was accompanied by a swell of longing so powerful it scared her. To avoid having to examine where it’d come from and what it meant she leant up on tiptoe to kiss Zac, closing her eyes to the connection she found in him.

What sort of game were they playing here? What had started out as Truth or Dare had become a whole lot more serious. Did they even know the rules? Perhaps they were making them up as they went along as they had with the Truth or Dare.

Truth – I really, really like you. Dare – I don’t dare let this take over. Forfeit – I’m afraid of losing my independence. More than that I’m afraid of losing myself again…

But the thoughts faded away as they kissed, kissed passionately and touched each other as though they were racing time. Soon all she could think about was feeling his skin against hers and wanting him to come inside her again.

The best kind of therapy – the euphoric sex haze that makes everything feel better.

“You do know you’re not to blame, don’t you?” Zac asked Flora, idly stroking her back; she had such beautifully soft skin. It surprised him how quickly he’d come to care for Flora. He wanted to spoil her, protect her and make her smile. She had a lovely, sexy smile that made her eyes sparkle.

Christmas Eve had been magical with drinks in the Piano bar and a gourmet meal at Le Trianon. He wanted to make her Christmas Day even better. She needed cheering up and as far as he could tell she really didn’t deserve the grief she was getting from back home.

He wanted to help her forget.

“Yes…I think I do…now, that is. See what found its way into my timeline yesterday.” She handed him her mobile phone, grimacing.

Zac scrolled down to the Facebook link and clicked it, seeing Flora’s name mentioned. It linked to a local newspaper article in England.

‘
Tragedy Strikes Local Community’ –
Earlier this year we reported the heart attack of the chairman of the Parish Council, Mr Paxton, at a community fundraising gathering. Further tragedy struck the Paxton household when his son Tom was jilted at the altar. The runaway bride left the family with mounting bills for a lavish wedding. With regret we report that on hearing the news Mr Paxton went on to have a second heart attack from which he failed to recover. The family blame the cancellation of the wedding and his son’s distress for putting Mr Paxton under stress. Mrs. Paxton said…’

Zac stopped reading and raised his eyes to meet Flora’s. “You know this is a load of crap don’t you?”

She met his eye. “Until I read that article I couldn’t shake the guilt but that, that…so-called newspaper gets all its facts wrong. I didn’t leave them in any debt; we had wedding insurance and I hardly left Tom at the altar. They got the order of events completely wrong and…I’m bloody angry. It’s woken me up to how unfair this is. I think the Paxton’s have friends at the local newspaper, it’s a deliberate smear and I refuse to let it get to me.”

“You could complain? Try to get Facebook to take the link down, or make an official press complaint in England?”

“I don’t want to do anything.” She shook her head. “If I do I’ll get sucked in and I want to leave it all behind me.”

He supposed he could understand that point of view. After all hadn’t that been the way he always dealt with problems?

“Did you never talk to his family about why you were leaving?” he asked.

“I tried to.” She sighed, shaking her head. “His sister and I were close but I…couldn’t tell them how he made me feel. I tried but his sister accused me of making stuff up to make myself look better.”

“How bad was it Flora?” He stroked her arms, soothing and cajoling her, the action feeling instinctive.

Somehow he knew it had been
bad.

He wasn’t sure how he knew it. But he knew.

And he wanted to knock the living daylights out of Flora’s ex, anger swelling up on her behalf, so strongly that the muscles in his hands tensed and his body felt rigid.

“Pretty bad,” she whispered, eyes wide, imploring him to understand. Or did she just want him to shut up and stop asking questions?

He pulled her closer towards him and she pressed her head against his chest, eyes screwed shut.

“It’s hard to talk about, you know?”

“I know,” he replied, stroking the length of her back. “But it’s over now. And you did the right thing. You had to leave. No one should have to put up with bullying of any kind.”

His mouth tightened as he thought of his mother and her refusal of all his offers of help.

Her
refusal to leave.

It baffled him. Maybe Flora would be able to explain to him why his mum still put up with his dad because he as sure as hell couldn’t fathom it!

Can I tell Flora?

He didn’t share his family stuff with anyone. It had certainly never occurred to him to share it with the girls he dated. Nick knew things weren’t right at home but they never talked about it. It simply wasn’t their way of doing things…

He was about to say something when Flora turned her face up to his and kissed him, the kiss was long and deep and passionate, stirring him on every level. Opening Pandora’s box could wait until another day.

Who wanted to talk about sad stuff when you could be enjoying life and living it to the full?

Focusing on the positives, that’s what I need to do.

And what Flora was doing with her hands most definitely fell into the enjoying life category. She trailed kisses down his chest and surprised him by kneeling down and taking him in her mouth, eyes looking up, wide and focused on him.

She didn’t break eye contact when he stared back. The intensity of the connection increased the pleasure for him. It was amazingly, mind-blowingly intimate and he came quickly, unable to hold back or delay his release.

He wanted to repay her, to make her forget about crappy guys who got off on making women feel small. He manoeuvred her back towards the bed, hands running over her body, stroking her curves, and kissing her.

“Let me give you a Christmas present.” He grinned.

And then his phone rang.

Some nagging sixth sense told him he couldn’t ignore this call. It was Christmas Day. He could never ignore his phone without wondering if his mum was okay.

“I’m sorry,” He shot an agonised look at Flora. “It could be important.”

He grabbed his phone, the caller ID on the screen told him his fears were well grounded. He answered the call.

All he could hear was his mother sobbing, over and over.

It broke his heart.

“Mum, are you okay?” It was a bloody stupid question but all his brain could come up with at the moment.

There was some more sobbing. And then the line went dead.

He stared at the phone in his hand, dread trickling down his spine. He was dimly aware of Flora’s gaze on him and turned back towards her. She sat naked on the edge of the bed, eyes brimming with concern. He liked that she didn’t feel the need to hide her gorgeous body under the duvet anymore.

She’ll understand. Even if you don’t tell her everything she’ll understand. Flora’s that kind of girl.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Yes.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to summon the control he needed to do this. “I have to go.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” Flora suggested tentatively.

He considered. An outsider would most likely make his dad snap back into jovial host mode, all traces of his aggression hidden by the smooth veneer of charm and social graces. Zac had seen the transformation more times than he could remember when family friends and colleagues visited them at home.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” He grimaced. “I’m sorry, I’d planned to take you to the Piano Bar for cocktails again later on and we’re going to miss our booking for Christmas lunch …  This isn’t what you signed up for.”

“I signed something?” She smiled. “Hey, the hotel’s lovely but I’m here to hang out with you.”

“Thanks.” He grabbed his clothes. “Let’s get going then.”

He had a feeling this might be a very bad idea but he hoped he’d be proven wrong…

Flora’s stomach was churning. She could tell from Zac’s stiff jaw and the way he gripped the steering wheel that something was seriously wrong. That he’d fallen out with his parents was obvious given they were practically around the corner and yet he’d chosen not to visit them for Christmas. But it was also clear that he still cared about his mother at least.

If her experiences had taught her anything it was not to judge. You never had all the facts about someone else’s situation. She’d experienced enough condemnation to have that lesson drummed into her.

“Am I allowed to ask what’s wrong?” She reached across from where she sat in the passenger seat of his jeep and tentatively laid a hand on his thigh.

“My mum needs some help,” he muttered, gaze focused on the road, eyes dark and full of dark intensity.

Help with what? Chopping carrots? Carving the turkey? Do they even have turkey at Christmas here? Well I suppose they might given she’s English.

But of course it wasn’t going to be anything that trivial. Zac had always seemed so utterly in control but now she could practically see the turbulent emotions warring beneath his calm exterior. His knuckles were virtually white where they gripped the steering wheel.

Every so often he glanced over at her, eyes thoughtful and lips slightly parted as though he was about to speak. But he always seemed to think better of it.

She liked Coppet, it was a pretty little village on the outskirts of Geneva, on the shore of Lac Léman, complete with chateau. Once they’d driven through the main village they took a turning off the road and onto a grand gravel driveway, the house not even in sight from the wrought iron gates. When they eventually did see the house Flora had to admit she was impressed. It was built in the style of a typical French mansion and had pretty green shutters with a snowy white clematis trailing up the creamy brick walls. The grounds were immaculately kept with barely a leaf out of place. To the side of the house Flora’s gaze fell on the stretch of private lakeshore and the boathouse. She glanced at Zac, wondering if she should make small talk about the house, tell him how much she liked it.

Maybe not.

He hesitated on the doorstep, face pale and preoccupied. Then he raised his hand and rang the bell. They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes.