Rebellion of a Chalet Girl:. Lorraine Wilson

hand on Holly's shoulder and gesturing to Rebecca with the other.

      Rebecca shot forward eagerly, a pearly pink smile stretching widely across her face. She actually giggled when Nate took her hand.

      Tash bit her lip. This was stupid. It wasn't like getting laid was a problem for her. Sex was…just sex. An urge, a bartering tool, an itch to scratch…She didn't need to get to know this man, there were plenty of others out there.

       Ones who don't come with a health warning - Caution, this man could seriously affect your ability to string a sentence together and keep your pants on!

      Hormones might be trying to hijack her body but she refused to act like a bitch on heat.

      "I believe you know my father? Justice Crawley?" Rebecca simpered. "I'm sure he mentioned he met you at a political fundraiser."

       Of course he did.

      Tash resented Rebecca's instant elevation to the 'one of us club' just because of an accident of birth. It happened all the time in the Verbier trustafarian set. If a social connection could be established, if you'd been to the right school or knew someone in common, then you ceased to be 'below stairs.'

      Ridiculous.

       Even if I could afford the expensive clothes I'd still never fit in.

      It was like they were still in the Middle Ages. How could anyone in the twenty-first century still believe birth into a certain class determined your worth?

      It made Tash want to do very bad things.

      "I believe I may have met Justice Crawley, yes." Nate replied gravely.

       Yeah right, clever answer. Like he has a clue who Rebecca's talking about.

      She narrowed her eyes at him and as though he sensed her looking he turned and met her gaze. A sharp jolt of connection surprised and thrilled her. A current passed between them, Nate's look so arrogant and knowing it made her insides squirm. When he looked away again she felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

       Get a grip girl.

      She'd never watched The Lion's Den. Surely anyone who wanted to be on TV had to have an ego the size of a planet? Yet, much as she wanted to, she couldn't dismiss him. He didn't suit the label she'd written for him.

      Heart pounding, she stood back from the group, sipping at the flute of champagne Scott had handed her, bubbles dancing on her tongue. The champagne was expensive. Gaining favour obviously really mattered to Holly and Scott.

      She could do this - be polite, show them around, be professional and not kill Rebecca in the process…

      She stared at Rebecca who smiled coyly at Nate while touching him oh so casually on the arm.

       Really? Maybe I'll have to revisit that 'not killing' part.

      Tash snorted, quietly she'd thought, but Nate looked up and met her gaze from across the room, his stare piercing. Was there a flicker of understanding there? A shared joke or connection? Before she could decipher the look he turned back to Rebecca, listening politely to her chatter as though he'd never looked away.

      Tash backed into a corner and decided to eat as many nibbles as she could; she'd felt too rough this morning to eat any breakfast. Best leave the boring small talk to the others. They were so much better at it than her and she was going to have to work up to a full on tour guide act. She couldn't do it cold. Who knew what might come out of her mouth at the moment?

      Leaning against the back of a sofa she retreated into the unfocused, barely there look she'd perfected over the years to stop morons approaching her. She felt Nate's presence next to her before she saw him, felt the embarrassing jerk of her body's reaction to the warmth of him.

      She turned to face him. It was always better to face matters head on, to take control of situations, relationships, pretty much anything really. Better to be the one who acted than sitting around waiting for others to do things to you.

      "So, Holly tells me I'm going to be your guide for Verbier?" She said the only thing that came to mind while trying to solve the problem of where to look. Looking directly into his eyes, while kind of thrilling, felt dangerous. Like she might turn into Rebecca and involuntarily start touching him or something.

       Ick. I refuse to turn into a sappy girl.

      She settled for looking just past him, as though scanning the room. Then she realised how rude that was and reluctantly turned back to staring at the cool eyes assessing her and the thick eyebrows quirked into a question.

      It felt intense, intimate.

       Just a step away from a kiss…

      "You don't want to ask me if I'm a keen snowboarder or if I've been to Verbier before?" His lips twitched into an almost smile. "They seem to be popular questions today."

      "No." Tash returned the half smile, tentatively. Whatever this was, this thing happening to her, she was losing control of it rapidly.

      Her heart pounded and she folded her arms across her chest, hugging her body.

       Because if I'm holding myself my fingers can't stray to his arm to feel the muscles beneath that expensive suit. This is crazy. It's just sexual attraction. It means precisely nothing.

      "Thank God, I hate wasting time on small talk." Nate exhaled and appeared to relax. It was a compliment, this assumption of a shared attitude. Heat crept up Tash's neck.

       He's a suit Tash. Don't fall for the charm. You and Nathaniel Campbell have nothing in common.

      "Because time is money?" Tash couldn't help the hint of snark in her tone; it escaped before she could suppress it.

      "No," he replied, expression unchanging, seemingly unbothered by the jibe. "Because bullshit bores me and I've got better things to do with my time. But sometimes needs must."

      "I suppose so," Tash replied doubtfully.

       If you want to take on world media domination that is. First a TV show and now a book? Working in television must involve a lot of bullshit.

      Nate's mouth widened into a wide smile, as though he'd heard her thoughts and found her beyond funny. A warm glow radiated through Tash.

       How annoying to be so easily manipulated by the twitch of a few facial muscles. Get over yourself Tash.

      "Could you show me my bedroom?" Nate asked.

      Heat spread from her neck to her cheeks.

       I'm blushing now?

      Tash cringed. She was blushing like a teenager. And she'd never even blushed when she actually was a teenager!

       It's a simple request, not a come on, you idiot. And now he knows you fancy him. Oh crappity crap.

      "I'd like to get out of this suit," he added, loosening the knot of his red silk tie. "We had a meeting in Geneva fresh from the plane but between you and me, ties are like small talk."

      "Oh?" Tash's mind felt curiously blank of words of more than one syllable.

       Between you and me. You and me.

      The words, combined with the idea of him getting out of his suit, stirred delicious possibilities in her mind. Perhaps this was Nate's superpower - turning the minds of all females to goo?

      "They are both necessary evils." Nate grinned again, a flicker of knowing in his eyes told her he knew exactly what effect he had on her. It made something flip low down in Tash's stomach.

      "Right, well…If you follow me I'll show you your bedroom," Tash blurted and turned, leaving the room. She assumed he was following her down the corridor, someone certainly was. But she didn't dare look back to check in case he was too close behind her. In case the bizarre