Chapter 4 Zoe
ZOE
In the morning, I got up early, arriving at the registration desk just as the morning shift arrived.
It took me a moment to convince the staff, a middle-aged couple who turned out to be married, that I worked here.
Sort of. Due to the impending ski lesson, I was wearing jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, a sweater, and sneakers.
Not exactly business casual, but it was the only thing I had that seemed appropriate for hitting the slopes. And/or falling on my ass on the slopes.
The woman, Clara, showed me some things I hadn’t learned last night, like where in the computer system to find notes about the preferences of frequent guests.
The list made my eyes widen. Who came up to the mountains to learn how to make sushi?
For one guest, there was a lengthy explanation of exactly how he liked his bed to be made.
Another insisted on only German channels on the television.
Guests that rich and particular must really keep the concierge team busy. But in a luxury resort like this, it was the responsibility of all the staff to make sure the guests were satisfied. Which was my number one goal—if I survived the morning.
Clara was happy to answer my questions, and I did my best to memorize everything she said, as if it was going to be on the final exam. But I wanted to learn as much as I could while I was here. And also, I didn’t want to have to worry about—
Him.
My breath hitched. The man in his mid-to-late twenties striding toward me had to be the ski pro.
He had on a dark blue ski jacket, jeans, and strangely stiff boots that looked suitable for a moon landing. If he was the ski instructor, then he was both my biggest nightmare and a dream come true, because he was drop-dead gorgeous.
His coat was open, showing a Henley shirt pulled tight across the muscled wall of his chest. His hair was light brown and spiky, and his eyes were the bluest I’d ever seen, even from twenty feet away, though he was closing that distance fast. I’d expected a ski pro to be lithe and limber, capable of reaching great speeds on the slopes, but this guy had muscles on top of muscles.
“I’m Kai,” he said, with an easy smile on his tanned face. “You must be Zoe.”
“Yes?” I stuttered and flushed as I realized it sounded like a question. Hopefully he thought it meant I was asking him what he needed, and not that I wasn’t entirely sure of my own name. But good god, just looking at him was enough to make me forget it.
”You’re a difficult woman to locate,” he continued. “I went to your room, but it was empty.” For some reason, an image of my room—the studio apartment I shared with two other students back in Haverford—flashed through my mind. Then I realized he meant here at the ski lodge.
“How’d you know where my room was?” It was the only question that I managed to formulate. Those blue eyes were mesmerizing. Like the sky on a perfect spring day.
“Because I’m your roommate. Your soon-to-be favorite roommate.
” His voice was cocky and assured, but I happened to agree with him, since my other roommate was Asher, the chef with a superior attitude and a stick up his butt.
That made Kai my favorite roommate by default—even if he let me die in a jumbled mess of limbs at the bottom of a mountain today.
His eyes swept over me as if in assessment. “Greer’s got you working at reception already? You must’ve impressed her.”
“Something like that,” I mumbled. Mrs. Greer certainly hadn’t seemed impressed by me yesterday and likely didn’t know I was back here.
Kai shrugged a duffel bag off his shoulder. It landed on the counter between us with a thud. “Got your ski suit.”
“My what now?” I stared at the duffel bag, wishing I could make my brain kick into gear. I’d seen good-looking men before. Hell, I’d ridden for three hours with one yesterday, albeit a very grumpy, ill-mannered one.
After I’d made notes about all my plans for this lodge last night, I’d spent a little time looking up skiing basics, but I’d been too tired to do much more.
It had been a long day, both physically and mentally.
Now I was awake and energized, but I felt unprepared, like I’d forgotten to study for a test.
“Ski suit, boots, and goggles, and so on. Get changed, and we’ll get started.”
“Changed?” I echoed.
I wasn’t usually this tongue-tied, but I had a feeling Kai had that effect on many women. Probably a lot of men, too.
His eyebrow raised at a cocky angle. “Do you need me to help you?” His voice held a note of amusement.
“No,” I said quickly, though that might not be true. “I’ve never worn any of this stuff before, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Just put the suit on, and I’ll help you with the boots out here.”
“All right.”
I pulled the duffel bag toward me and staggered as it fell into my arms. “What have you got in here, an anvil?” I tried for a casual tone.
“We don’t use those until lesson two,” he said with a wink. Then he tilted his head to the side, probably wondering what my problem was as I just stood there. I was wondering that as well.
Finally, he filled the silence. “The suit came from the shop upstairs. It’s Norwegian, and the best there is. They don’t do things by half measures here. I hope the size is right. Ash gave me his best guess.”
Wait, what? “Asher talked to you about me?”
Kai grinned at the indignation in my voice. “Yep.”
Crap. “I bet he had a lot of complimentary things to say about me.”
Kai’s grin widened at my sarcasm. “He did about your size.”
My cheeks flamed as I turned, lugging the bag. I didn’t even want to know how that conversation went. I hadn’t seen the prickly chef this morning, which was a relief. If he wasn’t a morning person, that meant I didn’t have to start my day getting scowled at.
I was deeply uncomfortable with the thought that Asher had been examining my body last night—likely when I ran into him in the hall—but then again, hadn’t I done the same thing with him?
My primary thought was basically how could such an asshole look that damn good?
Possibly he’d been thinking something similar about me.
Clara pointed me toward the employee restroom. This being The Fraser, the room was full of marble, floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and even a chandelier. This place was unbelievable. Kai’s scuffed-up duffel bag looked very out of place. Then again, so did I, probably.
The ski suit was black, and all one piece. The material was light but insulated. It did look to be very high quality, but that didn’t mean it was easy to get into. Even though it was padded, it was somehow tight at the same time.
After I tugged it over my jeans. I stripped off my sweater; otherwise, there was no way my arms were going to fit in the sleeves.
Luckily, my t-shirt was thin enough to fit under the jacket. I got it zipped up and peered into an ornate and likely antique mirror.
If you didn’t count the uncertainty on my face, I looked like I was ready to hit the slopes. Sort of.
Due to the boots—which I didn’t even try to put on—the bag was still heavy as I walked out front.
Clara gawked when she spotted me. “Looking good, Zoe,” she said. “Good luck out there.” She waggled her eyebrows and then tilted her gaze toward Kai, and I knew she wasn’t talking about the lesson.
“Looking good indeed,” Kai echoed her words as I reached him, his tone lower and more intimate. His eyes swept along the lines of the ski suit. Was he checking me out? Maybe if he thought I was hot, he’d be less inclined to let me slide right off a cliff.
“It’s a little tight,” I said, tugging at the padded material over my thigh. “Did Asher tell you I was a size zero or something?” That would be just like him to deliberately select something that wouldn’t fit me right.
“Nope. He mentioned your curves.” Kai’s eyebrows arched acrobatically, and I quickly looked away, my cheeks heating up as I did my best not to think about that.
Fortunately, Kai seemed to be getting into instructor mode. ”Go sit on that bench and I’ll help you with the boots.”
Somewhat to my surprise, I was able to walk normally despite the thick ski suit.
As Kai had told me, it was well made. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me that this resort sold top-of-the-line apparel.
I perched on the edge of the bench as Kai grabbed the boots from the duffel bag.
He knelt in front of me, one ski boot in each hand.
He patted his knee. “Come on. Left foot.”
I hesitated for only a second before lifting my foot and placing it on his leg. The position felt awkward, intimate in a way that made my cheeks warm.
“Not exactly a glass slipper,” he said, grasping my ankle and guiding my foot into the clunky boot. His grip was strong, his fingers warm.
Despite the fact that there was a drop-dead gorgeous man kneeling in front of me, I laughed. “I’m not sure which would be more comfortable.”
“Once you’re flying down the slope, you won’t even remember you’re wearing these.
” His fingers moved quickly through the fastenings—click, click, click, click.
He tightened each one with practiced efficiency, barely glancing down.
“Not too tight, not too loose. Snug but not cutting off circulation.”
As he picked up the other boot, I held out my hand. “I’ll do it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.” It felt ridiculous to need help putting on footwear.
“Knock yourself out.” He handed me the boot and stood, crossing his arms as he watched.
I took it from him, determined to prove I’d been paying attention. Three buckles plus the power strap at the top. I wedged my foot in—it took more force than I expected—and started fastening. The first buckle clicked into place. Then the second.
The third one gave me trouble. My fingers fumbled with the mechanism, and I had to try twice before it latched properly.
“Just click and pull,” Kai advised.
Easy for him to say. I gritted my teeth and finished the last buckle, then the power strap. “There.”
“Not bad.” It wasn’t exactly praise, more like an acknowledgment that I’d managed not to completely screw it up.
I stood carefully and immediately understood what he meant about the boots. They were incredibly stiff, rigid around my ankles like casts. And heavy. Each one felt like it weighed as much as a grand piano.
I took a tentative step, then another. My ankles refused to bend, locked in place by the unforgiving plastic. Every movement felt wrong, clumsy, like I was piloting some kind of machinery instead of just walking.
This was exactly the kind of situation I hated—being thrown into something with no chance to prepare, no time to practice it first where others couldn’t see.
There was no way to research my way to being good at skiing.
I just had to do my best and somehow deal with it if I failed spectacularly in front of a super-hot ski god who wasn’t used to working with beginners.
Which wasn’t exactly how I’d hoped my first day of my internship would go.
“Come on.” Kai was already at the humongous carved wooden doors.
I clomped after him, doing my best not to look as awkward as I felt. Each step was deliberate, effortful. I probably looked like a penguin.
But then we stepped outside, and I stopped.
The world stretched out before me in a blanket of white, so bright it almost hurt to look at.
Tall evergreens lined the slopes, their branches heavy with fresh snow that sparkled like diamonds in the morning sun.
The sky was impossibly blue, and the air was so crisp and clean it made my lungs ache in the best way.
For a moment, I forgot about the uncomfortable boots and my frustration.
The sunlight glinted off the snow, and it was the most incredible view I’d ever seen.
I turned to Kai, wanting to share the moment, but he wasn’t looking at the mountains—he was watching me.
He’d probably seen views like this a thousand times, but I hadn’t.
Even if he didn’t feel the magic of it, it was nice not to be experiencing this alone.