A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) (18 page)

The digital clock catches my eye: 9.45 a.m. I haven’t time to dry my hair, and I dash to the wardrobe, tripping over my feet.

At 9.55 a.m. there’s a knock at the door. Pulling on a pair of flats and grabbing a fifty-pound note, I amble over to answer it.

“Your bitch for the day.” Chase beams in at me.

“You what?” I laugh.

“Bitch, assistant, whatever you choose to call me, I’m here, and your limo awaits.”

He puckers his lips and holds out his arm for me to take.

“You daft sod.” I chuckle, linking my arm through his.

I gaze up into his light brown eyes as he presses the button to call the lift. By crossing that line with Snow, I’d lost the big brother I always wanted, but Chase, with his humorous ways and loving nature, has somehow filled that gap. For the first time since Mum and Dad died, I’m actually starting to feel a tinge of happiness, and more complete.

M
y eyes dodge the coloured optics and bar staff until I’m gazing into a curved mirror that sweeps round behind them. It’s a blonde girl’s reflection looking back at me as I bite down on the maraschino cherry that I plucked from my dry martini. I gasp, almost choking on its acidity.

He’s here; I can feel his dark eyes seeking me out.
God, he looks hot!
I hardly allow myself to blink. There’s no tailored suit like I was expecting; he’s wearing black leathers, a loose jacket and tight trousers. His usual sleek hair is a mass of messy waves, as though I’ve spent hours in the bedroom running my fingers through it.

I push my shoulders back so I’m sitting up straight on the barstool. My leggings rub as I cross one leg over the other and I shuffle slightly, repositioning my skirt; then, in a lady-like manner I swivel round to face him. As soon as our eyes meet he breaks into a smile, and I can see straight away that he’s not fooled by my disguise. He walks down three narrow steps and makes his way between the closely laid tables until he stands at my side.

“I haven’t seen you here before. As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen you out of the office.”

He says no more, but raises his brows. I feel it’s a prompt for me to speak, and know he awaits my introduction.

I have two or three names in my head, but decide on, “Mercedes.”

“I haven’t seen you here before,
Mercedes
,” he emphasises, tilting his head.

He lifts my left hand, which rests in my lap, and holds it up to his lips. His warm breath runs across my skin as he places a soft kiss, then just as quickly his lips are gone. His focus is now on my wedding finger and the overly sized amethyst that sits upon it. I see his eyes move as very slowly he looks me up and down.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, brushing strands of my platinum blonde hair from my neck. “I’m surprised your old man lets you out alone.”

I’m taken back; his acting skills are second to none. I’m way out of my depth here. What the hell do I say?
Calm down, Darcy, think.
I neck my entire martini, order a treble and neck that too.

I take a deep breath, hoping with it I will gain some confidence.

“He’s away,” I tell him.

“Away?” Snow leans towards me, raising his eyebrows.

I swallow hard. “Yes, away,” I say shakily. “For a month on the oil rigs.”

His eyes soften, their corners creasing as he smiles.

I lift my head, flicking my hair over my shoulders and smile back.

“A girl can’t just sit and wait you know; she needs something to do with her time.”

“Or some
one
?”

I watch his teeth graze his bottom lip. As I look up to meet his eyes, they are already on their way towards my breasts.

“There are some things you see every day, but don’t take the time to notice.” He smirks, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “Maybe you could reconsider your dress code for work, give the clients something to talk about, and give me something to look forward to when I walk into my office each morning.”

I feel my cheeks redden. “Snow.”

He shakes his head.

I grin. “Sebastian, you’re incorrigible.” I flash my ring in front of his face. “Have you already forgotten I’m a married woman? How come you’re dressed so casually? Where’s your suit, your tie? And what’s with the leathers?”

He glances down and shrugs his shoulders.

“Maybe I have a life outside the office, and there’s a side to me that nobody ever sees. It’s so easy to think that you know someone, and yet you only see what they want you to see.” His lips curl at the edges.

I frown; I can’t think of a witty reply. I know this is all an act, though his words seem far too deep, far too meaningful to be just that. I look down, playing with the big ugly gemstone on my finger. I guess he picks up on my change of mood. I’m so close to throwing in the towel tonight and telling him this game of his is off.

“Snow—”

“Mercedes, I bet you’ve never felt anything hard vibrating between your legs, and the breeze streaming its way between the lips of your pussy.”

He doesn’t whisper these words under his breath, there’s no subtlety in his voice. My eyes open wide, and I nearly forget to breathe.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, leaning into my neck.

I lean away. “Snow, no more, I’ve had enough.”

He places his finger on my lips. “As I have done with Snow, maybe you should leave Darcy and all her reservations behind.”

I move his finger and he takes my hand, clasping it against his chest.

“There are times you can have so much more fun being someone else. Relax,” he says, squeezing my fingers just that little bit tighter. “Enjoy the ride. It’s a ride Sebastian can take you on, but one I know you could never take as Darcy. Well?”

He releases me and takes a step back.

“Are you out, or do we play on?”

“What say you buy me another drink?” I say, rocking forward on the legs of my stool.

“Mercedes, what say you come with me?”

I jump as he unexpectedly grabs my wrist and I drop my empty glass on the bar mat.

He leads us and we snake our way between tables. I trip up the three small steps, and Snow laughs at me as the door opens to let us through.

I’m almost deafened by loud voices and blaring horns. My gaze flits up and down the busy road for Chase in the hire car or limo, but all the cars at the curb are stationary; the only movement I see is from a stream of black cabs. Snow beckons me to follow him.

“I said about something vibrating between your legs, and I wasn’t speaking about this,” he says, grabbing his crotch. “How do you fancy a ride on this big boy?”

“
Seriously?
A motor bike,
dressed like this
?”

He slaps my arse.

“I think you’re dressed pretty damn perfect,” he says, looking from under his eyes. “In those leggings there’s nothings stopping you opening those legs of yours nice and wide.”

I put my hand to my mouth and try to look shocked, imagining how a married woman would react if put in such a compromising position. But then he never said I was the doting wife. I know my acting skills are crap, and I throw a gaze from the corner of my eyes. Snow in leathers… I pause, thinking how sexy he looks. Infidelity doesn’t seem quite so bad;
maybe I won’t play too hard to get
.

I glance over the bike’s shiny black frame as he lifts the large seat and tosses me a helmet and leather jacket. I lift it to my nose and sniff along the seam of one arm; it smells so strong.

“Put them on and get on the back.”

I glance up. Snow’s already seated on the bike, which he kickstarts and waits. I zip up the jacket.

“Snow, I’ve never ridden on one of these before.”

“No worries, I’ll take it easy, being as it’s your first time.”

Before his helmet covers and hides his face, he peeks round and winks. I place my helmet over my head; it’s tight and I struggle to pull it down. My hands are clammy, so I wipe them down the sides of my dress before grabbing Snow’s broad shoulders and attempting to mount behind him. I part my legs, press my knees into him and clamp my arms round his waist. I stretch, but although the tips of my fingers meet, they can’t quite link together, so I clasp the front of his jacket instead. He wheel spins, dodging between lanes of traffic; it takes my breath away.

H
is fingers trail teasingly under my chin; with the strap undone, he pulls the snug helmet from my head. I glance down and chuckle at the blonde wig lying on the grass between us. I shake my head, releasing my long dark waves into the breeze.

He grins across at me. “Didn’t think you’d have the
bottle
to colour it.”

I bend down to pick it up, and as I do so his fingers curl around my ass. I tilt my head, looking up at him.

“No, leave it,” he says, pulling me back to my feet. “It was just that little bit too perfect. I much prefer your hair as it is.”

I frown. “What, a mess?”

“No!” He laughs. “You know, that we’ve-just-fucked look.”

Not wanting to blush, or rather not wanting him to see, my eyes flit around the grassy field where we’re parked. A young boy passes; he can’t be more than four or five. He trots along holding his mum’s hand, holding a large bag of blue candyfloss. He has a flashing green band around his neck, though it needs the darkness to come alive. I glance at my watch: 9.04 p.m. An hour or so and it’ll be getting dark; I wonder if they’re heading home or if they’ll still be out.

Snow squeezes my waist; I flinch and turn.

“How do you like yours? Fast or slow?”

I wrinkle my nose.

“Your choice, Mercedes, the waltzers or the big wheel?”

“You never fail to surprise me.”

His eyes widen. “I’m intrigued, how so?”

“I literally had to drag you to a paint party, and even then you wore your suit. I can’t remember ever seeing you in anything else.”

Slowly he runs his tongue between his lips.

“That’s not entirely true now, is it?”

He grabs my sides, his eyes narrowing playfully. I take the edges of his jacket, rubbing the cold material between my fingers.

“Leathers, a fairground, isn’t this just a little beneath you?”

“If you’re talking about Snow, I’d have to agree. If you’re talking of Sebastian, then no.”

I roll my eyes. He pulls me that little bit closer, his lips nestling in my ear.

“So I’ll ask you again, the waltzers or the big wheel?”

I scan the fairground rides and watch the wheel as it turns; my eyes follow the brightly coloured swinging carts.

“Look how high above the world we could be, just us, no prying eyes,” he says in little more than a whisper.

“Okay, Sebastian, the big wheel it is.”

He lifts his head and casually drapes his arm around my shoulders, his feet moving in time with my own as we walk from the car park. I find this whole thing kinda sexy, but I’m not sure about the pretence. If Snow would only be himself, then I think tonight would be perfect for us both.

A young couple step out of a cart hand in hand, and it rocks unsteadily as we step in to take their place. Snow sits back as a metal chain is pulled across our laps and clipped to secure us. My feet dangle as I look towards the grass below. We jerk up as people leave the cart below. Snow circles his fingers around my hand and slowly we begin to move upwards.

“It could be a long night, Mercedes; you may have to pull a sicky,” he says, nibbling the top of my arm. “But don’t worry, I’ll get round my father, and your husband’s away so there’s no explaining for you to do.”

He’s talking to me, but I’m not paying attention. Of all the names he could have chosen for himself, he goes and chooses Sebastian, and now all I can think about is Sam’s uncle and him telling me that the only option left was to put Hooper to sleep. This game just doesn’t sit right, and I don’t want to play it.

“Snow, this is getting silly, can’t we just be ourselves?”

“Ourselves?” he quizzes. “Who am I, Darcy? Tell me. You see all my money, the suits, the painted smile I wear each day, but tell me, who really lies beneath this facade?”

He taps his chest as if making a point.

“I want the Snow I knew back in 2005. Those six weeks we spent together were real, that was the real you.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t know me back then. You knew a seventeen-year-old boy who had a lot of growing up to do. I’m a different person, Darcy, you have no idea how much I’ve changed.”

I slip my hand from between his fingers.

“I don’t like this side of you.”

I shuffle to the far end of the cart; it is only a few inches, but it’s space I need.

“Lighten up; it’s just a bit of fun.”

He shuffles closer. I stiffen, feeling his leg touch mine.

“It’s too late, you’ve spoilt everything. Why are we even doing this?”

“Why?” he quizzes. “Do you really need to ask?”

I nod.

“People get bored of people, the same shit each day. The circles I mix in where money talks, people outgrow each other, and very quickly. I don’t want that for us, I want us for keeps.”

I can’t help thinking what he says is sweet, yet at the same time he misses the point.

“Well I want Snow, not an act.”

“Aren’t we all actors in our own way?” His voice has changed; it has a harsh edge to it.

“I don’t pretend for anybody, I’m only ever me.”

“Darcy, you’re talking out of your ass … you pretend every day. You smile at people you hardly know to make a good impression because you care what they think. People hold doors for people, give up their seat for someone elderly or pregnant, but
why? You do what everyone expects you to do, it makes you look and feel good. You put on this act so you’re socially accepted, so don’t criticise me for pretending to be someone I’m not when that very same thing is all around us.”

For a second I’m lost and have no idea what to say. I look into his eyes, not breaking my stare.

“God, Snow, who are you? When did you become so cynical?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “When life became too much of a reality.”

The ride slows and we dip nearer to the ground. As soon as our chain is un-clipped, I jump from the cart, leaving him sitting alone.