Naked Exposure [Après-Ski 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Zara Chase

  “If Garcia didn’t want to know about the child,” Leo said. “How come they now have her here in Nevella?”

  “You remember me telling you about my ditzy mother?” Darcy addressed the comment to Ross, who reluctantly nodded. “She’s been trying to make it up to me for years because she was a crap mother when I needed her the most. To her credit, she was there for me for a while when Chloe was born, and for a short time afterward. I guess the baby kinda bonded us to a degree. What I didn’t know was, in a misguided effort to make things up to me, she’d contacted Garcia senior and told him he was a grandfather. He didn’t know, of course. I wasn’t important enough to Ramos for him to bother his father with the facts. Anyway, Mom and Garcia started up an email relationship, Garcia invited Mom to Nevella, she’s still a very attractive woman, and she’s now shacked up with him. She persuaded me to take Chloe for a visit. I stupidly believed her when she said Garcia was keen to get to know his granddaughter.”

  Ross and Leo exchanged a look. If she was telling the truth, then Garcia had deliberately used mother, daughter, and granddaughter to get what he wanted, which was the inside edge on the Padrons. It was just the sort of low stunt he would pull. He’d been damned clever about it, too. There were few things a woman wouldn’t do for the sake of her child. Well, most normal women, anyway. Ross’s insides turned to stone when he considered the small percentage of women who put themselves before their children, but pushed that thought aside. He knew from bitter experience it didn’t do any good to revisit that particular part of his own history.

  Darcy’s explanation made sense of the other photographers being coerced into leaving Medina valley, and Darcy’s timely arrival, just when he needed to fill the position so badly. But it also left a number of unanswered questions.

  “Presumably your baby’s father has no visitation rights?” Leo said, voicing the first thought to have formed in Ross’s own mind.

  “No, but he has possession of her right now, which is enough for him.”

  “But you have the law on your side. Involve the authorities.” Leo and Darcy both stared at Ross, making him realize just how dense he was being.

  “This is Nevella,” Darcy replied. “Darwin valley is the biggest in the country, Garcia owns it and all the people who run it. Oh, I could get the authorities to listen eventually, I dare say, but do you imagine Garcia would give them access to Chloe? He’d just deny she was in his house, and no one would have the balls to question him.”

  “That’s true, Ross,” Leo said softly.

  “My mother thinks the sun shines out of his ass, and can’t see he’s done anything wrong. Our bonding didn’t last long, as you’ve probably gathered by now. She’s got romantic notions of me and the baby’s father getting back together, and sees no harm in me doing what she calls a small favor for Garcia. She keeps telling me to be sensible, and think how much Garcia could do for me.” Darcy blew air through her lips. “As though I’d take a dime from him.”

  “He’s a dangerous man to cross,” Leo said absently.

  Darcy sighed. “How come I never learn where my mom’s concerned?”

  “You shouldn’t have let it get this far, Darcy,” Ross said, conscious of the anger still rising off him. “I told you at the start, it’s all a matter of trust, and you should have trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

  “I intended to this evening,” Darcy replied, jumping to her feet and facing him. “I thought it through this afternoon, and decided that’s what I would do. I only met you yesterday, and I needed time to think. I have to put Chloe first, but I realize they won’t actually harm an innocent child.” She paused. “I have to believe that or go out of my mind. Besides, I can’t do this to you guys.”

  “You had no trouble telling them about Rick’s plans for the dog sledges,” Ross replied, glowering at her.

  “I didn’t think it was that important, and it bought me some time.”

  Ross curled his upper lip. “Try telling Rick you don’t care about his dogs.”

  “That’s not what I said!”

  Leo stood up. “Now we’ve established why Darcy did what she did, I’ll leave you guys to resolve your differences.”

  If only it was that simple, Ross thought with a wry smile. It was very quiet when Leo left the room. He and Darcy stood facing one another, the atmosphere charged, neither speaking. In spite of everything she’d done, Ross still wanted her, more than ever, but the trust was gone. He felt something inside of him wither and die as that realization struck home. How the hell was that possible? Two days ago he hadn’t even known her. Now she was the focus of his universe.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said, her gaze steady, her expression sincere. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “We’ll try and figure out a way to get your daughter back,” he said curtly.

  Darcy gasped. “But how? You don’t have any influence with Garcia.”

  “No, but Padron does. Family comes first with all Nevellians. If word were to get out amongst the other families that he kidnapped your daughter, he’d lose a ton of respect and influence.”

  She gasped. “Could it really be that easy?”

  “I don’t see why not?” He shrugged, and turned away from her. The hope in her eye, the animation in her expression, was damned near his undoing. “I’ll have Leo talk to Padron about it.”

  She reached out a hand to touch his face, but he moved out of range. If she so much as laid one finger on him, he’d give way to the burning desire he still felt for her. It was wrong to have jumped her bones so quickly, and to allow himself to get so emotionally involved with her. He no longer blamed her for what she’d done—she was a mother first and foremost—of course she put her child before everything else. The problem was the painful memories her situation forced upon him, and he couldn’t deal with them right now.

  “Is there no hope for us?” she asked in a tiny voice. “I thought we had something special going.”

  “You thought that about Garcia.”

  “And I was wrong. It taught me something about myself, though, and I’ve been very selective since then. Well, I have to be. I have a child to consider.” He voice caught. “But, for the record, I never felt the burning passion for him that I felt the first time I saw you. I never would have allowed him to do the things you’ve already done to me.”

  “Even so—”

  “I thought getting close to you guys and passing on the odd bit of information would be no big deal when set against my daughter’s welfare.” She shook her head. “It was actually the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, which is why I intended to tell you everything tonight. I couldn’t live with myself anymore. But now it’s too late, and you’ll never believe I intended to come clean.”

  “The trust is gone, Darcy.”

  “It doesn’t need to be. Can’t you understand why I did what I did?” She paced the length of the room, her voice passionately persuasive. “No, you’re not a parent, so I don’t suppose you can.” He made a strangled sound, but Darcy was clearly too wound up to heed his warning. A small part of his brain knew she was being truthful. He could see she desperately wanted him to understand, and he did. No one had better reason than him to know how far a parent would go to ensure his child’s well-being, but he pushed the thought aside, in no fit state to handle it right now. What he thought they had was beyond redemption. “But you do know I’m telling you the truth. It will be easy enough to prove if Padron gets Chloe back for me.”

  Ross was being a jerk. He should pull her into his arms, comfort her, tell her she was brave and loyal, that he understood her dilemma way better than she knew, and then fuck the living daylights out of her. But his own past had gotten in the way, and he couldn’t seem to get beyond it.

  “Well,” she said, a desolate expression on her face. “I can see I’m wasting my time with you. I obviously read too much into what I thought we had, just like I did the last time around. Obviously, I’m not used to your lifestyle.
I might as well…”

  Her words trailed off when the door opened behind them and Ward stuck his head around it.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But there’s a lady in the bar asking for you, Ross.” He cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. “Err, she says she’s your wife.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Darcy’s mouth fell open. She stared at Ward, convinced that the drama of the past few minutes must have affected her hearing. Then she transferred her gaze to Ross, who looked as though he felt physically sick, and knew she hadn’t misheard.

  “What the fuck…”

  Her words trailed off. What else could she say? Ross gulped several times, looking haunted, and trapped. Looking everywhere except at her.

  “What does this woman look like?” Ross asked, his voice sounding hollow, shocked.

  “Hot,” Ward replied succinctly. “If you like them tall, curvy, and dark-haired, that is.” He looked at Darcy and winked, clearly trying to lighten the tense atmosphere, and failing dismally. “Which you obviously do. Says her name is Chelsea.”

  Ross shook his head. “Stay right here,” he said to Darcy, an element of authority returning to his tone. “This conversation isn’t over. I’ll be right back.”

  Darcy looked at Ward and shook her head, not sure what to say. He touched her arm, his expression loaded with sympathy.

  “Give him a chance to explain,” he said.

  She shrugged. “What’s to explain? Still, I have to admire his nerve. He’s just been lecturing me about trust, openness, and honesty, and forgot to mention he has a wife tucked away somewhere.” Darcy’s laugh sounded bitter, bordering on hysterical. “Easy enough mistake to make, I guess.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. I’ve known Ross for two years, and never once heard him mention a wife, much less met her.”

  “But she obviously exists.” Darcy flapped her hands. “You saw his reaction.”

  “Things aren’t always the way they seem.”

  Darcy arched a brow. “No shit?”

  “Look, it’s obvious the woman took him by surprise. It’s equally obvious they’re estranged, otherwise I would have known about her.”

  “I want to see her.”

  Ward shook his head. “Probably not a good idea.”

  “Why not? The bar’s crowded. If he’s talking to her out there, he won’t notice me.” Darcy looked up at Ward as a thought occurred to her. “Hang on, he can’t talk in there. The music’s deafening. And he can’t bring her in here, not with me here, so—”

  “Leo has a small office at the back of the bar. He’ll probably take her in there.”

  “Wouldn’t do to have us both in the same room,” Darcy said with a sweetly sarcastic smile.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Ward sighed. “We’re all very selective about whom we allow to breach our private space.”

  “Which begs the question, why haven’t I been thrown out?”

  Darcy pushed past Ward and headed for the bar. She heard Ward sigh again, and then come after her.

  “This isn’t helping,” he said. “Just give Ross the benefit of the doubt.”

  She flashed a wry smile. “Like he just did me.”

  “Well, you were sent here to ferret out our secrets, darlin’. How did you think he would react? We all owe Leo a damned lot.”

  Darcy paused in the corridor that divided the guys’ personal space from the bar. Even there the loud beat of the music pulsated through her body, making her head pound, and her heart ache. “I didn’t realize you all knew about me,” she said, almost to herself. But Ward obviously heard her, or could lip-read, because he sent her a reassuring smile.

  “Leo explained, and we all understand you did what you had to do for the sake of your little girl.”

  “Thank you.” She placed a hand on his arm. “That means a lot, but you don’t speak for all of you. Ross is really pissed at me.” She flashed a wan smile. “I don’t think he’ll ever get past it. He kept banging on about trust.” She rolled her eyes. “Talk about a hypocrite.”

  “You’ll work something out with him.”

  “I don’t see how.” Darcy lifted her shoulders. “And it shouldn’t really matter anyway. After all, we barely know one another really.”

  “If he didn’t care about you, his reaction wouldn’t have been so extreme.”

  “Yes, well—”

  Darcy made her way into the bar, just in time to see Ross and a stunningly beautiful, tall, statuesque woman heading for Leo’s office. He had his hand on the small of her back, and she was smiling at him in an intimate way that made Darcy’s spirits plummet.

  “I can’t stay here,” she said aloud, even though she’d shaken Ward off and there was no one else to hear her.

  She headed for the lobby, grabbed her coat, and pulled open the door to outside. It was still snowing heavily, and was bitterly cold. Darcy barely noticed. This had all been a stupid mistake, coming to Medina valley, taking the job at the ski school. She could see that now. Garcia wouldn’t harm Chloe, and she’d been too wound up—with him, with her mother, with herself—to think it through properly and realize as much before now.

  As soon as it stopped snowing, she would go back to Garcia’s, camp out on his doorstep if necessary, and stay there until he let her inside. Then she would take Chloe, go back to England, forget all about Ross and his phony double standards, and get on with her life. Yes, that’s what she would do. And she would finally cut off all connections with her mother, too. This was the final straw. Their relationship would never work, and Darcy needed to accept the fact.

  She trudged along, her heart colder than the weather conditions. The thought of losing Ross was slowly killing her, even though she’d lost him anyway. He simply didn’t understand why he was so angry with her. If Leo, who was affected most by what she had done, could forgive her and offer to get Chloe back for her, why couldn’t Ross?

  She tried to put him from her mind and concentrate on her future instead. She had a long-standing offer of freelance work with a photographic studio in London, which she would take up. The pay was naff, but she’d get by. She didn’t need any men in her life, complicating things, telling her what to do and how to behave. She and Chloe would do just fine on their own, thank you very much.

  She had almost reached her apartment building when she heard footsteps pursuing her, crunching through snow that had already turned to ice.

  “Darcy, wait.” It was Ross’s voice. “We need to talk.”

  * * * *

  Darcy turned to face him, looking angry and confused, as she had every right to. Ross had realized what a prick he was being, how seriously he’d overreacted when he learned the truth about her, and had been about to apologize when Ward dropped his bombshell. He, of all people, should have understood what drove her. Then Chelsea threw him a curve ball, and fucked it all up for him. Darcy’s wide-eyed, accusatory look had damned near killed him. He couldn’t begin to imagine what thoughts had gone through her head. Fuck it, Chelsea’s timing sucked, just like always.

  He had always known Darcy was special—only now that he was on the point of losing her did he realize precisely how much she had come to mean to him in such a short space of time. She had slipped past the barriers he had erected around his heart, and given him a reason to start living again. He could not, would not, allow her to slip away, not without fighting tooth and nail to make her understand. That would mean telling her the truth, of course. Somehow the thought of speaking about Mikey to someone who just might understand the torture he’d been living with didn’t make him want to turn tail and run the other way.

  “I think we’ve said all there is to say,” Darcy replied in an offhand tone, her lovely face a pale, emotionless canvas.

  “Come on, we’ll freeze to death out here.” He grabbed her arm and steered her toward her apartment building, leaving her with no choice but to move along with him. “Where are your keys?”

  “You�
��re not coming in.”

  “Yeah, I am. I’ll tell you about Chelsea, about why I reacted so badly to what you did, and then, if you still don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”

  She shrugged. “If that’s what it takes.”

  She found her keys and unlocked the main door. She repeated the process with the door to her apartment, threw off her hat and coat and stood apart from him, arms folded across her chest, her expression still hostile.

  “Talk,” she said succinctly.

  Ross paced the small amount of floor space between him and the door—there wasn’t much of it—but it gave him a little time to assemble his thoughts. He froze with indecision. Now that the time had come, could he really do this? He had kept it bottled up inside for so long, it seemed almost sacrilegious to speak about it. A thin film of perspiration broke out on his brow when he considered revisiting the worst period of his life, talking about events he’d spent the last three years running away from. He could tell Darcy was thoroughly pissed with him, and hurting despite her offhand attitude. She really might throw him out, and he couldn’t take that risk. She was worth fighting for, so he needed to spill the beans before cowardice got the better of him.

  “I married Chelsea straight from college,” he said. “That was ten years ago. She was a cheerleader, homecoming queen, all that stuff, but also a thoroughly nice person. All the guys had the hots for her, but she dated me, we fell in love, and planned to spend the rest of our lives together.”

  “I saw her in the bar. She’s still very lovely,” she said softly. “So what happened?”

  “My degree was in business economics. I used a small inheritance I had from my granddad to start my own business, rescuing failing companies. We’d go in, look into all aspects of the operation, figure out what they were doing wrong, and work out a plan to turn it around. I didn’t get paid unless my suggestions worked, so they needed to work.”