Confessions of a Chalet Girl: by Lorraine Wilson

again as another wave of pain hit her and cradled her injured arm.
    ‘Let me see your elbow.’ His voice was taut with what could have been anxiety or anger, she couldn’t tell which.
    She shrugged off the ski jacket on the injured side and rolled up the long sleeve of her T-shirt. Even now, in pain and humiliated, his touch on her bare skin roused her libido. Desire fought with embarrassment at being shown up and anger he hadn’t listened to her when she'd tried to get out of this trip.
    The pain wasn’t helping her mood much either.
    ‘I think it might be a ligament injury. We’ll have to get you back to town to a doctor.’
    ‘I did try to tell you I wasn’t an experienced skier.’
    ‘What?’ he frowned, his forehead furrowed. ‘But what about all that stuff on your Facebook page? Are you seriously trying to tell me it was faked?’
    ‘It wasn't faked by me,’ she said quickly, alarmed by the hard expression that had crept into his eyes, driving the softer Scott deep under cover. ‘Someone must have hacked my account, faked the photo on Facebook and well…thought it was a joke.’
    He looked at her closely, still frowning. Anger surged through Holly, why couldn’t he just take her word for it? What was so hard to understand?
    ‘Hmm. But who on earth would do that?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ she answered tersely. He didn’t believe her, clearly thought she was some kind of nutcase.
    She wanted the caring Scott back again, but the connection between them had clouded over, shutters being pulled down as they spoke. The knowledge of it pierced her with a pain much sharper than the throbbing in her elbow.
    Sitting back and letting this happen was not an option. She had to fight her corner.
    ‘It’s the truth, I had nothing to do with that post.’ She glared at him.
    ‘But you said on your CV you could ski.’ The narrowed eyes continued to appraise her, not giving an inch.
    ‘What’s this? The Swiss inquisition? I, I listed it under hobbies,’ she stuttered indignantly. ‘I didn’t realise it was going to be part of the job. It wasn’t mentioned at interview. I meant I was interested in learning how to…I mean how to improve my skiing.’
    ‘So you have skied before?’
    ‘Yes.’ She sighed, realising she had to say more, had to tell him the whole truth. It mattered she was honest, with him of all people. ‘But I only had my first lesson yesterday.’
    ‘Yesterday? Bloody hell, when you said you weren't 'that good a skier' you actually meant you weren't any kind of skier! You could have been killed up here, how could you have been so stupid?’
    Holly gaped at him, the horror on his face seemed out of proportion to what had happened. She regretted telling him the truth now.
    Why exactly did I feel the need to be quite so honest with him?
    ‘We’d better get you standing up.’ He exhaled and shook his head at her, his tone polite but cool. ‘We need to check there are no other injuries.’
    She let him help her up, enjoying the sensation of the strong, muscular arms supporting her but seething inwardly that he'd called her stupid. She wanted him to apologise, to fold her into his arms and tell her it didn't matter.
    What if this is the last time he ever touches me?
    Pain pricked at her eyelids and she blinked it back. She’d invested far too much far too soon. It was her own fault. She shouldn’t have let him do…what he did on New Year’s Eve.
    He held Holly for longer than was necessary for her to get her balance and seemed to hesitate, the rigid set of his jaw softening. ‘Are you in pain? The skidoo will be here soon and it can take you straight to the doctor, I’m sure he’ll give you something for the pain.’
    ‘We can still do what you had planned this evening, can’t we?’ She wished she had it in her to play it a bit cooler. Really she was rubbish at this.
    She knew why she’d told him the truth. She needed him to know the real Holly, not the chameleon Holly who always