A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) (9 page)

The corners of the driver’s eyes crease, so I assume he is smiling back.

I gaze out into darkness, picturing the lush Devonshire countryside.

“Home sweet home,” I mutter under my breath, and let out a long drawn-out sigh as house lights pop up before me.
I know I’m getting nearer to Darcy; the house can only be half a mile from here.

I don’t need to close my eyes to picture the beauty of her face and the silky dark hair that frames it. Her whole being is imprinted on my mind; the flowery scent she wears, the touch and feel of her skin. In an instant my cock responds to my thoughts, and I cross my legs in an attempt to push it down, but to no avail, as it only gets harder. My forehead breaks out into a cold sweat; I’ve never wanted to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck her now. I like it tight, and boy was she tight, yet when I think back there was something different about her, an innocence.
She’s driving me crazy, I want to know her inside and out. If she doesn’t want to fuck, that’s okay with me; I’ll do as she wants, we’ll make love
. I’m sitting here shaking my head. I don’t know how to win this woman. Money always worked with the other women I’ve had, yet I send Darcy flowers every fucking day of the week and hear nothing. I buy her the childhood house that I know means so much to her and even then I don’t get a call from her or a thank you. For the first time in my life I’m well and truly out of my depth, and I just don’t know what I’ve got to do.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I hardly notice the taxi slow and draw up at the end of the driveway where she lives. My eyes wander over the exterior white-rendered walls, past the upstairs windows and down towards the glass-fronted porch. I don’t wait for the man to tell me the fare, but chuck a wad of notes in his hand and tell him to wait for me.

As I walk up the slight incline to the front door, I notice the downstairs lights are on and the curtains have not been drawn. The porch door is open, so I step inside and press my index finger on the doorbell. Hearing it ring, I take a step back. I stand and wait, but there’s no sound from within. I ring again; still nothing. I’m tempted to walk back to the taxi, yet as I step away from the house something draws me back. Walking through the shadows, I tread across the lawn, straddling a half-moon flower bed to peek into the lounge through the large bay window. My lips curve into a smile at her feline shape; like a beautiful cat she’s curled up on the sofa. I scrunch my hand into a ball about to tap on the glass when a shadow flits before my eyes.

I turn towards the lounge door and almost lose my balance, my shoes sinking into the soil as Chase enters the room with two fluted wine glasses, looking more relaxed than I think I’ve ever seen the man.
What’s he doing here?
I wonder. The expression ‘seeing red’ was a cliché until now, for I see it in every shade imaginable flashing before my eyes, I can even taste the anger, and it tastes like shit. He couldn’t sit much closer to her; I can hardly believe what their body language is telling me. Their knees rub together and she doesn’t even flinch, but it’s not just their knees that touch … her fingers are touching his face. I swallow hard. He’s touching her face, too.
I’m not having this.

“You fucking traitor!” I shout, pummelling the glass with my knuckles.

The pair shoot up to their feet, and I point my finger at Chase.

“You, out here!”

Their eyes are fixed on me. Darcy’s mouth drops open, and Chase takes her forearms in his hands, lowering her back onto the settee. I’m itching to get my hands on him. My eyes almost burn into the back of his neck as he walks from the lounge. I wade back through the flowers, not giving a shit what I tread down, and stomp my way to the front door. The hinges creak, the door opens and he’s standing there looking out at me. I lunge forward, grabbing the neck of his T-shirt, and push my fist up under his throat.

“You fucking ginger prick! I trusted you, I’m paying you to pave the way for me, not to get your dick wet! You knew she was off limits, you knew how I felt about her and yet you still come sniffing round.”

Chase lashes out and I lose my grip as he pushes me away.

“Snow, you may have your hotels and your millions, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like a cunt!”

He shoves his head into my face

“Did I want to fuck her? Yes, you’re damn right I did, but did I? No! I was loyal to you; I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

There’s a momentary pause; I’m lost for words. I know Chase well enough to know when he’s lying. He doesn’t even drop his eyes from mine, but stares directly at me.

“Mate, I’m sorry…” I reach out my hand for him to take, but he pushes it away.

“Just leave, Snow. She’s too good for you, far too good.”

“Chase, you know I can’t do that.”

There’s a bright light shining behind Chase, and I look past him as the door widens. Darcy is standing with her hand placed on her slender hip.

“What’s going on out here?”

My eyes bore into Chase’s and I shake my head. His eyes narrow.

“Nothing, Darc,” Chase says; “just friendly banter between friends.”

Every word that leaves his mouth is a lie, yet it sounds so convincing. One thing I know for sure is that he can’t look her in the eyes. Even after the way I’ve acted towards him, he’s loyal to me to the end.

“Anyway, Darc, I’d better be going; don’t think the paint party’s for me.”

“But you said you were looking forward to it…”

I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“It’s not just women that can change their mind,” Chase adds with a touch of humour. “Think I’ll shack up in a hotel for the night.”

“What say you take my taxi, mate?” I offer, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think I’ll be needing it now.”

Chase turns away from Darcy and barges past me, heading towards the awaiting car.

My eyes settle on her, a classic beauty as she stands before me dressed all in white. Her hair is scraped away from her face in a high ponytail on the crown of her head, falling down in waves.

“Well, you going to invite me in?”

She takes a step to the side, freeing up the doorway for me to enter.

“The house is yours, so do you really have to ask?” Her tone is icy, and it seems she can’t meet my eyes.

The arm of my suit brushes against her bare arm and I turn, pressing my chest against her, but immediately I feel her tense up. I have no intention of stepping away, and I glance down; in that split second I see it in her eyes—they can’t hide from me what her body attempts to fight. The sexual chemistry between us is electric; I have to touch her, the beauty before me.
God, man, get a grip
. I take in a gulp of night air, and raising my hand I place two fingers beneath her chin, lifting her face so that she can’t avoid the way my eyes burn into hers. I lower my head. We are so close that the scent of her cherry-flavoured lip balm makes its way into my nose; I can almost taste her.

“That’s close enough,” she snaps, pushing the palm of her hand in front of my mouth. “I know your motives; I know why you’ve come here. You think buying me a house is going to get me into bed? Well, Snow, you’re very wrong, because it’s not.”

“A house
and
flowers!” I laugh aloud, thinking she’ll join me, but her response is to frown and her lips don’t even crease into a smile.

She stands poker-faced, yet still looks so damn sexy. Pushing past me, she walks into the lounge. I close the front door behind me and follow her. My head is telling me to turn around and run away, but that’s not me. I’m in a place I’ve never been before, and I can’t impress her with my money, my wit or my charm.

“Hooper,” I call as my eyes dart to meet him, expecting him to run in at any moment.

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he then?”

She walks into the square bay and places her hands on the window ledge, looking out into the moonlit gardens.

“He’s in Cambridge, has been for the last couple of weeks.”

“Oh?” The tone of my voice prompts her to continue.

“It’s not good; the vets are almost sure he has a brain tumour. He’s had every test going, and I should know something definite tomorrow.”

I don’t hear any emotion in her voice, and lost for words, I make my way towards the window. Standing behind her, I place my hands on the tops of her arms.

“Darcy…” I whisper into her ear.

I feel her stiffen and edge away.

“Snow, don’t.” Her words cut me dead. “If I don’t talk about him, then it’s not real.”

“Darcy, the money I’ve got can buy him the best treatment out there. Tell me what you want and I’ll write the cheque here and now.”

Though her body fights against me, I spin her round to face me. Black streams of mascara run down her face, her eyes swimming with tears.

“Let’s wait and see what the verdict is tomorrow.”

I decipher her words through the cracks in her voice. My first instinct is to wrap my arms around her so we become one, allowing me to halve her pain. I want to hold her head between my hands, look into the depths of her eyes and assure her everything will be okay. But my thoughts have allowed the moment to pass; I left it just that little too long. She has seated herself on the settee and sips from the fluted glass she holds to her lips. I watch her place it down on the table and take in the pretty pink imprint left by her lips.

“I think someone could do with cheering up. Why don’t you go and wipe that shit off your face? I’ve booked us a table at a classy Italian restaurant, so let’s say we make a night of it and we’ll deal with tomorrow,
tomorrow
.”

“Food and a fancy restaurant just isn’t going to cut it for me. A load of toffs in their cardboard suits sipping champagne? Tonight I want fucking beer out of a bottle.” The raw emotion in her voice is clear.

Her eyes spell it out as she looks me up and down.

“Just look at yourself, Snow, look what you’ve become.” I see her eyes dart towards a family portrait. “I hardly recognise you, it’s like you’re someone else. Your designer suit, your perfectly tied tie and your immaculately polished shoes; it’s all bullshit, you’re bullshit. Tonight, Snow, I want real. I’m going to the paint party to get smashed out of my face. Come if you want, I don’t care either way.”

What she says hits a nerve. I flick open the grey buttons on my jacket, pull it off, fold it carefully and lay it across the back of the settee. Removing my gold cufflinks, I put them in my trouser pocket, undo the small white buttons at my wrist and push my shirt sleeves up so that they rest above my elbows. The cushion dips beneath me as I sit on the settee at Darcy’s side. My eyes move across the row of face paints laid out on the coffee table; I pick a bright yellow and hold it towards her in the palm of my hands.

“Guess you’re coming then,” she says, passing me a brief smile.

 

 

T
he blaring music is intolerable as I stand propped against the bar. Thursday night is students’ night; it’s advertised on large posters plastered over the walls. I question if they’re actually university students, since they’re
acting more like fucking school kids, jumping up and down as jets of cool steam shoot from the ceiling. Staff members stand partially dressed, positioned around the club on podiums pumping bright neon paint into the crowd of dancers.

I glance down at my pristine shirt and ten-thousand-dollar suit. I dodge every paint-covered clubber as they push forward, calling out to be served. I search for Darcy through the students and see her only feet away from me. I watch the way her body moves. My eyes wander around the immense dance floor, half-blinded by strobes of light, but my attention returns to Darcy. A group of blokes supping from bottles are staring at her ass; like sharks they are moving closer. I weave my way towards her, pushing people out of my way, and grab her arm from behind.

“Come on, Darc, let’s get out of here.”

She pulls her arm from my hand.

“Don’t think so!” she shouts in my ear.

“I can’t leave you here alone!” I yell.

“You can. Bye.” She cuts me dead.

“No, Darc, come on.” I pull at the straps of her top. “Let’s get out of here.”

Guzzling at a bottle of cider, she laughs in my face and the liquid runs from her mouth, dribbling down her chin.

“Get a drink, Snow, and lighten up!”

“God damn it, look round you, look at them, they’re a load of fucking idiots.”

“Well, that makes me one too!” she shouts back, and grabs at my hand, pulling me to the middle of the dance floor.

Suddenly, I can’t see anything. My face is splattered in cold liquid, and as I run my right hand down my face and open my eyes, it drips off my lashes. I blink, but all I see is bright neon orange. When my vision finally clears, Darcy’s holding my hands, laughing at me. I frown; this is not funny, but her laughter’s infectious, and suddenly I’m laughing too and pulling her into my chest. This is the ice-breaker I’ve been waiting for. I take my chance and lean down towards her; our faces are so close. I grab the back of her head and push my face and lips against hers. Her lips part and I thrust my tongue inside, like I intend on thrusting my cock inside her, but that’s for later when I get her home. The music pounds its way into my head, my trousers tighten, I close my eyes.

 

 

S
till laughing, our lips pressed together, I turn my key in the front door. Tripping over each other’s legs, we stumble into the hallway. Surrounded by darkness and only visible to one another by the spots of neon paint, I feel my way down to her thighs, slide my arms beneath her ass and lift her. Unsteadily I feel my way from step to step as I climb the stairs, not losing the warm breath of her lips for a second. On reaching the landing I don’t set her feet on the floor but carry her to the far end and through the bedroom door. Her damn light… My eyes shoot to the bedside table to a new but similar crock lamp. Clamping her tightly against me, I lean over to reach for the switch and turn it off. I have hands to feel her, I have a mouth to taste her, but when I lay her on the bed and slide next to her I want darkness; I don’t want to see what my senses can see on their own. Her lips slide from my mouth and settle against my cheek.

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