I wake up at seven am, shower and dress in a pair of blue Levi jeans, a thermal long-sleeved top, and a loose grey sweatshirt. My hair is thoroughly tangled, and it takes me a good five minutes to brush a comb through it. Last night I only managed to get a few hours’ sleep after lying in bed thinking about the way I had behaved. I’m pretty sure the brothers went out again at some point after I returned to my room; not that I care what they get up to, it’s their holiday, after all. What bothers me now is how rude I was to the brothers. I am not normally so confrontational. When I think about it, I know it’s because I am damaged goods. My mum and her trail of boyfriends have fucked me up so thoroughly that I am pretty much in self-defence mode all the time.

This morning I have some apologising to do, but first, a trip to the local store is required to get supplies. The shop is a ten-minute walk into the main resort and open from seven am. All the chalet girls use it, apparently. I figure if I go now I will be back in time to cook them breakfast. Perhaps we can start again. Fresh day, a fresh start and all that.

I head out into the hallway and catch one of the brothers swimming in the pool. The underwater lights aren’t lit so all I can see clearly is the top half of the swimmer’s body moving through darkened water. Whoever it is has a huge, black, dragon tattoo penned into the skin of their sculptured back. It’s not Max as he’s blonde and it isn’t Bryce as his hair is longer, which only leaves Hudson. I watch as he reaches the edge of the pool, turns and spots me. For a moment, my breath catches in my throat at the long look he gives me. He just stares, and I stare back. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, wanting to move but suddenly unable to. What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I really going to pieces over a half-dressed man I don’t even like? I watch as he swipes a hand through his wet hair. He walks to the steps of the pool and climbs out, turning to face me. He is completely and utterly naked. My eyes widen just a fraction as I take in his broad shoulders, defined pecs, six pack, and strong, muscular arms, finally resting on his manhood. A small smile plays at the edge of his mouth as he looks at me looking at him. Despite my bravado yesterday I find my cheeks heating, and not wishing him to see how much he’s affecting me, I look away.

Arsehole, he totally did that on purpose. I turn on my heel and head upstairs, my heart pounding treacherously in my chest.

The ground floor is quiet as I enter, just the sound of coffee percolating in the machine. Max and Bryce are likely still sleeping and, glad I don’t have to make small talk, I pull on my ski jacket and winter boots. When I open the door, my mouth drops open at the amount of snow covering everything in sight. “Shit,” I say, my breath coming out in warm puffs. A snow plough is making its way down the street, pushing huge piles of snow to the side. I’ve never seen anything like it.

I head outside, enjoying the muffled quiet that only heavy snowfall can bring, and walk towards the main strip where the supermarket is located. It takes me less than ten minutes to gather what I need. The check-out girl tots it all up and I hand her the company credit card I’ve been given to pay for the food with. I still can’t quite believe there is a couple of grand stacked up on the card to use for supplies. When Shawna handed it over to me, she said she had ‘borrowed’ a couple hundred quid from the card and paid it back on payday, implying that I could ‘borrow’ some money too. It’s just as well I am trustworthy. This job means more to me than a few hundred quid.

“Merci,” the girl says, handing me back the card after ringing up the bill. I thank her and make my way out of the shop.

A minute later I am struggling back up the incline, trying to hold on to two full bags of shopping whilst trying not to break a leg.

“Hey, Louisa, let me help.” I turn and almost fall on my arse, a particularly icy patch making my feet skid beneath me.

“Whoa,” Max says, catching me in his arms. The breath of his laugh tickles my ear. “Steady, you could break something,” he murmurs, a little too sexily for my liking. He props me upright, turning me to face him. I am still ensconced in his arms.

“Okay?” He looks at me, the dark of his eyes a liquid brown. The air has suddenly got decidedly warmer.

“I’m fine,” I say, pulling away.

“Sure thing,” he chuckles, swiping a hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Good night?” I ask, realisation dawning. The relaxed pull of his mouth, the softness of his features. Max is clearly in orgasm thrall.

“Pretty entertaining, as it goes. A night with me always is. You should try it,” he adds, a slow smile pulling up his lips.

“I think I’ll pass.”

He falls into step beside me and I can feel the light touch of his hand on the base of my spine, as if he’s ready to catch me should I fall again.

“I can’t believe how much snow there is. I’ve never seen anything like it,” I say, stepping away from his touch. His hand falls away and I catch a strange look in his eye, but he says nothing.

“This? This is nothing. You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until you get up the mountain. When the snow falls up there, well, it’s incredible.” Max’s face lights up as he describes the view. I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Are you going to ski today? I could show you around.”

I shake my head. “No, I haven’t come for skiing.”

“Oh,” he says, taking one of the bags from me. “What have you come for, then?”

“I needed the money,” I say. It is easier to say that than to tell him I’m running away from a drunk mother.

“I see,” he says.

We reach the steps and head back inside the chalet. When I walk in there is a brunette woman dressed in a man’s shirt sitting across Bryce’s lap. She is gorgeous, with long limbs and full lips. She is also vaguely familiar. She smiles at Max, her expression changing as soon as it rests on me.

“You’ve got a maid. Great, I’m starving.” Maid? Fucking cheek. Immediately my back is up at the look she gives me, as though I am a piece of shit on her shoe. Then I notice the sparkling outfit in the corner and I remember where I’ve seen her before.

“I see you got yourself a pole dancer,” I say, looking her up and down. “How much did you pay her for a private lap dance, Bryce?”

I hear Max snigger beside me.

“You bitch…” she says, getting up.

Bryce stands, a look of horror on his face. “Candy, isn’t it time you got dressed and went home?”

“Candy? My name is Clara,” she storms, walking away from Bryce and down the hall.

“Candy, I mean Clara,” Bryce calls after her. He catches my eye as if he’s waiting for a reaction. What the fuck is going on? Are all the brothers trying to get a rise out of me this morning or is this normal behaviour? I wonder briefly whether Hudson has a woman in his room too, then shake the thought away, not willing to think about why that bothers me.

“Eggs and bacon alright for breakfast?” I ask Bryce as he gets up, avoiding the fact he is bare-chested and muscly as hell. He has those super sexy muscles that taper in a V-shape towards his groin, the kind most men would die for and most women want to lick. “Or do you prefer sausages with your eggs?”

Bryce shakes his head, muttering something I can’t quite hear under his breath as he rushes down the hall after Candy or Clara or whatever the hell the bitch is called.

Twenty minutes later Clara is gone, and Bryce, Max, and Hudson are all sitting around the kitchen island eating the breakfast I’ve cooked them up. For a split second, I feel a sense of peace watching them eat, but it is gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Pretty mean fry-up, Louisa, thanks,” Max says, jumping up and pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. By the look on his face, I think he is as surprised by the sudden show of affection as I am.

“You’re welcome,” I say, waving him off. “It’s no big deal.” I almost raise my fingers to the spot where he kissed me, but I don’t.

“Well, I’m hitting the slopes, you coming?” he says to his brothers.

Bryce nods his head. “Yep, I’m up for that. I’ll meet you at the lift in twenty. I’ve just got to get ready first,” he says, heading off to his room.

“Cool, bro, I’ll catch you there in a sec. What about you, Hud?”

“Maybe later. I’ve got some stuff to do.”

“Ah man, we’re here to play, not work.”

“All the same, there’s something I’ve got to do,” Hudson says as he glances my way.

“It’s fine by me. I’ll just wash these dishes then get out of your hair,” I say.

“Well, catch you later, guys.” Max pulls on a woollen hat and heads out of the door, leaving me alone with Hudson, who sits nursing his coffee. Not wishing to start a conversation with him after that weird stare out in the hallway this morning, I gather up the empty plates and start washing them at the sink. Outside the view is almost entirely white, interspersed with tiny spots of colour. I can already see a line of people dressed in bright skiwear as they trudge through the newly fallen snow. People are laughing, happy. Kids are running around throwing snowballs, giggling when they hit their target. I watch as a father leans down, picks up his daughter and spins her around in the air. A sudden sadness spreads through me at their happiness. That is what childhood should be filled with; laughter, fun, love.

“There’s a dishwasher for that,” Hudson says, breaking my reverie.

“I know. I don’t mind washing them up. It gives me something to do,” I say, dipping my hands into the warm, soapy water, concentrating on the task at hand. A sudden tension has filled the air and I am trying my best to ignore it.

I hear the scrape of the stool as Hudson gets up, but rather than leaving, I feel the sudden warmth of his body heat as he stands close behind me. My hands stop what they are doing as Hudson’s muscular arm slides around the side of me. A breath catches in my throat as he eases the plate into the water. I stiffen as he remains pressed against me, his other hand slipping around my side, so I am trapped in his arms. I can feel the thump of his heartbeat through my back as he takes my soapy hands in his, rendering me totally immobile. Not certain whether I am incredibly offended by his assumption that I would welcome his touch, or incredibly turned on, I don’t attempt to stop him. He is a total dick, but a goddamn sexy one. Flashes of his naked body appear in my mind and I look up at our reflection in the window opposite. He is staring at me unashamedly.

“Louisa,” he breathes, dipping his head to press a hot kiss onto my neck. Then he pushes my body forward, so I’m pressed up against the sink, his chest, hips, lips all pressed up against me so there is no space between us. Trapped there in his arms, my heart a dozen racehorses galloping in my chest, I do something that surprises me. I close my eyes and lean my head against his shoulder. An involuntary moan slips from my lips as Hudson runs the tip of his tongue over the curve of my ear. I can feel the pad of his thumb massaging the palm of my hand as his fingers slowly trail up my arm. The warmth of his touch is gone for a moment until I feel his still wet hand slide up the front of my sweatshirt and beneath my vest. He rests his hand against the curve of my stomach, his fingers spreading wide over my skin, his little finger dipping under the waistband of my jeans. The firm press of his hand and the gentle graze of his lips against my skin ignite something within me, something I’ve never felt before, something that scares me. I turn my head to the side so that our mouths are almost touching. Hudson’s evergreen eyes are hooded with desire.

“I have wanted to touch you from the very first moment I saw you.” His voice is hoarse, gravelly, and for one sweet moment, I want to touch him back.

“What the actual fuck?” I hear Bryce say from behind us.

Hudson steps away, wiping his hands on a tea-towel as if he’d just been helping with the dishes rather than trying to seduce me. He is calm, cool, triumphant, and I know in an instant that I have just been played. I pull my eyes away from him and look at Bryce. There is a heated look on his face and for some reason, I feel ashamed. I feel like my mother whoring herself out to the first man who shows her the least bit of interest.

“Fuck you,” I say, tears pricking my eyes. Hudson starts to open his mouth, but I push past both him and Bryce, grab my coat and head out into the cold.