A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) (24 page)

“Tilt your head back and open your mouth,” I tell her. “And when I place this on your tongue, don’t chew, just swallow.”

Though she smiles, I can see there’s distrust in her eyes. She gulps down the oyster, and her smile returns.

I wink. “Is that all the practice you need for now, or would you like another?”

I can see by the way her eyes crease that she gets the pun. She dabs her mouth with the corner of a serviette, and as she lays it down on her plate I reach towards her, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.

“Snow, what are you doing?”

I look down into her dark sultry eyes, wrapping my arm around her waist.

“I’m going to dance with you,” I say, encasing her hand just that little bit tighter.

“How can we dance when there’s no music?”

Swaying slightly, my feet take the lead and I feel her starting to follow. The warm evening breeze catches her hair, lifting it from the side of her face. I watch as it falls around her shoulders and lean closer, my lips against her ear. A song comes to mind, which I hum and then begin to sing. The sun takes on an orange glow as it lowers in the sky, before disappearing from view below the palm trees.

I hold her so close that it feels like we’re as one. I continue singing to her as our feet take us round. I can’t help wondering what’s happened to me. I’ve never done anything like this before and doubt I ever will again, but somehow here, with her, it just feels so right.

S
ince we got back to the hotel Chase hasn’t stopped taking the piss. Wiping myself down, we walk into the reception.

“Are you mad?” Chase quizzes. “Eating sushi and oysters before jumping in the speedboat? You prick! I’ll be spending most of tomorrow cleaning it up.”

“Chase, that’s enough,” Darcy scolds.

Loosening my hand, she walks a few steps in front. I smile at how quickly she was to jump to my defence. The reception desk is quiet; Carlos acknowledges me and hands Darcy the key to our suite.

Amparo scurries from the back room.

“Sir, sir…”

For fuck’s sake, not again, and not now.
My jacket’s covered in puke, and all I want to do is go upstairs and shower.

“Darc.”

She turns and looks at me.

“Carry on, I’ll be up in a sec. Ampa, what is it?”

“It’s Rayne, he wants to speak to you urgently.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You haven’t seen me.”

“But, sir, I can’t.”

“Why not? You’ve done it before.” I pull out a hundred-dollar note. “Here,” I say, thrusting it into the pocket of her tunic. “Now do as I say.”

She pushes it back at me.

“No, no, I can’t take it,” she refuses, waving her hand.

I’m shocked by her response; she’s never refused money before.

“Why?”

“He knows I’ve seen you.”

I frown. “How?”

“Sir, they arrived here this morning; they’re over there.” She points.

My head shoots round to the bar. Rayne is sitting on a stool with his feet on another, and as our eyes meet he raises his glass and smirks. He hasn’t come alone; Francesca, his shag piece, stands at his side. She’s heavier set than Darcy, and although there’s no denying that she’s attractive, even with her dark hair and long legs, she doesn’t do it for me.

“What the fuck’s he doing here?” Chase asks, taking a step forwards. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”

I grab at his shoulder, pulling him back.

“No, this is my mess, I’ll sort it myself.”

Unbuttoning my jacket, I remove it and hand it to Chase.

“Get this dry cleaned.”

He looks at me.

“Now.”

“Yes, sir.” He huffs while saluting me.

I’d normally joke back, but not now. I stand with my arms folded and watch him walk towards the lift. Then with apprehension I make my way towards the bar and Rayne. There’s a glass of wine waiting for me, and I’m quick to pick it up, raising it to my lips; it feels nice to have something to hide behind.

“You’re so predictable; I knew you’d be here,” Rayne jibes.

“Well,” Francesca butts in, “have you told Darcy?” She narrows her dark almond-shaped eyes.

I look at Rayne.

“Don’t tell me you’ve told her.”

“Why not?” he replies, quite blasé. “You were more than happy to tell Darcy about Summer, so there was no reason that I shouldn’t tell Francesca about you.”

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss, tapping my shoe on the floor.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Rayne snaps, getting up from his stool. “Where is she?”

There’s no messing, I can tell by his voice that he means it. This time there really is no running away, I’ve got to face this head-on. He takes a step forward.

“No, please, Rayne, not now, not like this.” My mind’s working overtime.

“Don’t stall me, I’ve waited far too long for this moment. Darcy needs to know the man that you are.”

His shoulder knocks into mine as he barges past.

“She will, but not like this.”

He stops in his tracks.

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m not, I’m not…” My throat is burning and I can hear the panic in my voice; I have to slow my breathing to compose myself. “Let me organise the yacht.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Why the yacht?”

I drop my shoulders. “Because I love her, Rayne, and the yacht is the one place Darcy can’t run away from; it’ll give me time to explain and hopefully talk her round.”

“Why should I allow you that luxury? She’d be better running as far away as she can get from you. But I assure you, you won’t have to worry about her, I’ll make sure—”

Francesca coughs. He pauses and winks at her.

“
We’ll
make sure she’s looked after.”

I stare into Rayne’s eyes; he shows no emotion, and it’s like looking into clear glass.

“Yes, I’ve been wrong, but despite what you think, I’ve been good to you. Have you forgotten that not all that long ago we were friends?”

“Friends?” Francesca huffs.

She reaches in front of me and tugs at his navy-blue jacket.

“Rayne, stop fucking round, go and tell her now.”

He flicks her hand aside.

“No games, do you hear me? We’ll meet you and Darcy here tomorrow morning at eight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hear Francesca’s whining voice. “Well, I’ll be in bed, so you’ll be going alone.”

“Thanks, Rayne.” I reach out my hand for him to shake. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

He totally blanks me, and they both walk past. I stand holding a half-empty wine glass, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do.

“I
like the name,” Rayne pipes up.

I nod and gaze up at the word
Summer
written in bold red lettering on her side. My yacht sits in the harbour; white and pristine, she outshines all the other boats moored up. Darcy’s face has been set in a constant smile all morning; she’s so excited about spending the day on the ocean. She runs along the ramp in her open-toed sandals.

Rayne and I walk a few steps behind, the atmosphere between us uncomfortable to say the least. My body jerks as he throws his arm in front of me, barring my way, and I’m forced to stop.

“Like I told you, no games,” he warns, looking me up and down. “And where do you keep the lifeboats?”

I stare into his blue-grey eyes. He brushes his thumb and index finger over the dark stubble on his chin.

“Lifeboat?” I laugh. “Why do you ask? She’s hardly going to sink.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he utters sarcastically. “It’s just in case you get any ideas in your head and decide to throw me overboard.”

I smirk but don’t respond.
Wishful thinking.

“Well?”

“Well what?” I snap.

“I’m serious; I want to know where you keep the lifeboats.”

I roll my eyes. “They’re stored on the bow. Happy now?”

He lowers his arm, letting me pass.

“Yes, I’m happy … for now,” he says as we climb on-board.

The door swings open on deck and Darcy beams out from one of the cabins. I guess she’s already been exploring the rooms with their beautiful polished wood and plush cushioned sofas. I gaze into her eyes.
God, I love her.
I just wonder after today if she’ll feel the same way.

“I’m going for a swim,” she calls, slipping off her shoes and looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

She heads to the pool at the back of the boat and then flicks her head round.

“I’ll leave you brothers to catch up.”

I guess she thinks this is the first step towards a reconciliation between us; how wrong she is. I hear Rayne clear his throat and can almost feel his eyes burning into me.

“I meant to ask before, but where the fuck has she got the idea that we are brothers?”

I shrug my shoulders. “God knows, I think it was something the receptionist said at the hospice.”

“And you didn’t think to correct her?” He laughs. “But then do I really need to ask? Planting assumptions and half-truths is something you seem to excel at.”

“Rayne, that’s not fair.” I square up to him. “I’m sick of your snide comments!” I shout into his face. “If you’re going to tell her, get it over with.”

“I wanted to tell her last night, but you made me wait. You’ve pulled the strings for far too long, but not any more,” he says, walking along the top deck.

He opens the door to the dining room and steps inside. I go to follow, but he stops me.

“I’ll tell her when I’m good and ready. Go to her, have a dip, enjoy the sun; I suggest you make the most of Darcy while you still can.”

“Rayne,” I call after him.

“Enough said. I’ll see you for dinner this evening.”

I open my mouth to reply, but he closes the door.

I stand there running my hand through my hair. I have no idea how I can face Darcy when I know what’s to come. I lean forward, gazing over the side of the yacht at the waves as they lap against
Summer
; we have moved out of the harbour and are now heading for the open sea.

Chase comes to mind. I make my way to the bridge, calling him to come out. He joins me, and I rest my hand on his shoulder.

“We’re good friends, aren’t we? I mean, I can trust you to stand by me?”

I see a shocked expression on his face.

“You look awful, Snow, what’s up?”

“I don’t know where to begin, I really don’t, but I need to have a quiet word with you.”

I
walk into the bedroom. Darcy’s sitting on the bed, her back towards me; she doesn’t turn, and she doesn’t speak.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” I ask, shutting the door behind me. “We’re supposed to be having dinner with Rayne in ten minutes.”

“I’m not going for dinner,” is her short reply.

I freeze.
Shit, she knows.
This is confirmed as she swivels round on the bed and looks up. Her hair is a mess, her face red and mottled.

“God, Darc, I’m so sorry.”

I rush to her side, clasping her hands. She nuzzles her head into my shoulder.

“It’s not you,” she sobs.

“Well what then?” I ask, lifting her from me.

She sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“It was already dark when I came back from the pool to get dressed for dinner. As I closed the door I heard a noise; there was someone in here, and I presumed it was you. I called out your name … yes, he answered. The dark silhouette of a man made its way towards me and took me in his arms.”

My throat knots and I feel sick to the stomach at the thought of someone else holding her.

“And?” I prompt, shaking her hand.

“The next moment his lips were pressed against mine. I knew straight away that it wasn’t you. I reached for the light switch…”

“Rayne?” I spit out.

She nods.

I let go of her hand and jump to my feet.

“That bastard, I’ll fucking kill him!”

Then I’m hit by my worst nightmare as my eyes drop to the cleavage of her towelling robe.

“Darcy, tell me he didn’t touch you?”

She shakes her head. “No, just one kiss and then he left.”

“Anything else?”

I see furrows appear in her brow.

“Yes, he apologised.”

“Fucking damn right, so he ought to have done,” I spit out.

“But then he said the strangest thing; he told me the kiss was something owed to him.” She pauses, rubbing her fingers above her eyes. “Snow, I’m a mess.”

I lift her from the bed and hold her in my arms. I can feel how upset she is by the way her body is shaking against my chest. No one touches
my
Darcy. I start to shake too, but I’m not upset, I’m fucking livid.

“I can’t possibly sit at the table and eat dinner with Rayne,” she sniffles, pushing her hair away from her face. “And God knows…” She pauses, her teary eyes looking up into mine. “God knows how I’ll sleep tonight.”

I stroke the top of her head and down the length of her hair.

“There’s a couple of sleeping tablets that might do the trick; they’re in my bag, help yourself. I don’t think there’ll be much eating going on tonight, so try and get some sleep, and don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

I lower her back onto the bed and cover her with the quilt. As I approach the door to leave, I reach for the light switch.

“No, Snow,” she calls, “please don’t turn it off.”

If she hadn’t been so upset, I’d have slammed the door so hard into its frame it would have come off its fucking hinges.

I walk along the galley and can hear someone playing the piano. I step into the dining area. Rayne’s feet are on the move, pressing down on the pedals, his hands floating across the ivory keys. He has no chance to turn as I rush up behind him and grab the base of his skull. I squeeze so tight that he jumps; the melodic tune has lost its melody and is now a tuneless dirge as his hands crash down. He tries to pull away, but he’s got no fucking chance, he’s going nowhere.

“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t smash your face in.” I press my lips against his ear. “Well go on, Rayne, I’m waiting.”

“You stole my life, Snow. Darcy is my little sister and I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to speak to her alone.”