A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) Read online

  “No, you’re not, are you, Snow?” There’s a harshness in Rayne’s voice. “Tell me you haven’t…”

  I don’t feel ashamed, why should I? Though I look down to avoid his eyes.

  “Trust me, go home,” Rayne utters. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, but believe me when I tell you, you’re in way over your head.”

  “I haven’t brought her here for this,” Snow snaps. “I’ve brought her here because she wanted to know the truth, and the truth is what I’ve told her.”

  “Oh, really!” Rayne shouts into his face.

  Lifting both hands, Snow shoves his palms against Rayne’s chest, pushing him back.

  “One girl who’s off limits, one girl you knew damn well you shouldn’t have touched. You had no right to lay a finger on her.”

  “Whatever, Rayne, that’s my fucking business. No one tells me what to do.”

  “You should take some time to think about that one… I’ve got to hand it to you, you really have sunk to an all-time low.”

  Rayne barges between us, and my eyes follow him as he pads his way down to the bank of the lake, where he kneels down. I watch his fingers as they break the perfect surface of the water.

  I pull at Snow’s arm, whispering into his ear, “What’s his problem?”

  Snow pauses. “You wanted to come here. To think we could be in Regent Park right now, eating lunch to the sound of violins.”

  In my head, I’m really starting to wish we had gone there.

  “Now can you see why I never told you about my family? They all blame me for Summer’s death, and all of them hate me.”

  I stand up, brushing the grass back and forth with my shoes.

  “We’d best make tracks.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, but turns and heads in the direction we came from. I take one last glance towards Rayne, and then am quick to follow.

  “You should have seen the house; it was demolished not long after Summer passed away,” he tells me as I catch him up.

  “So what do you think of London?”

  Our heads shoot round; Rayne is only steps behind.

  “You gotta stop creeping up on us like this,” Snow snaps as he approaches.

  “You been here long?” He looks at me. “How’s London treating you?”

  “The hotel’s amazing, but apart from that I haven’t seen a lot, only the hospice this morning.”

  Snow coughs.

  “What right did you have to go there? You’re nothing to Mum,” Rayne snaps at Snow. “A word, in private.”

  “Everything that needed saying has been said.”

  “No, Snow, now.”

  I feel Snow’s grip tighten around my fingers.

  “Wait here, this won’t take long.”

  He releases my hand, and I watch the brothers as they amble back down to the river bank. Bored and left alone, I sit on the grass plucking at daisies and searching for four-leaf clovers. Every now and again I gaze up and see that they’re still talking, so I pull out my phone. I have two text messages: one from my sister, and one from Sam asking me to ring him. It only rings twice before he answers.

  “Hi, you alright?”

  I hear Sam’s voice.

  “Be nice to meet up sometime, have a drink with the gang.”

  I smile, thinking back to my schooldays.

  “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll give you a ring when I come back from London.”

  “Oh, by the way, I’ve got Hooper’s collar, so when we meet up I’ll bring it with me.”

  A lump sticks in my throat, and I can’t answer.

  “You don’t need to worry about the vet bills; let’s say it’s a favour from my uncle.”

  “Thanks,” I utter; then I say my goodbyes and hang up.

  I start to reply to my sister’s text, but seeing the men are heading back, I press the off button and slip the phone back in my pocket. Snow leans down, holding out his hand. I take it, and he pulls me back up to my feet. I look beyond Snow to Rayne, who has a strange glint in his eyes, yet as I look deeper, there’s an odd kind of familiarity, as if I’ve met him before, and as I maintain eye contact and he smiles at me, it’s as if he feels it too. His stare is like a stab to my stomach, but blanking him, I turn my head towards Snow.

  “Anyway, got things to do, catch you later,” Rayne says, straightening his jeans with his hands, and then making his way towards the bench while we head back to the taxi.

  “Later? What does he mean?” I ask as I fasten my seat belt and the driver pulls off the uneven grass.

  “He wants to meet up with us in a bar.”

  I frown. “Well, that’s not going to happen.” I think of his eyes, his leering stare. “He gives me the creeps.” I shudder. “Text him and make an excuse.”

  “It’s not that easy, Darc, I can’t,” Snow mutters, loosening his tie.

  I pull the seat belt away from my chest and lean forward.

  “Why not? What hold’s he got over you?”

  “Hold? You’ve got to be joking!” he scoffs. “Nobody’s got a hold over me. It’s just business talk and shit.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Business talk?”

  “It was a decision we made a while back, that I’d be the face of the hotels. Liaise and drink with the customers, keep the staff in check, that sort of thing. I’ve made most of my money pissing around, fucking around and snorting coke,” he says with a cat-like grin, though it is soon gone when he sees my straight face.

  I jump as he grabs my thigh.

  “Darc, you’ve changed me. It might sound cliché, and I don’t expect you to believe me, but I’m no longer into the drug scene or shagging round, it don’t interest me no more. It’s like I’m a different person … a better person when I’m with you.”

  I twizzle my hair into ringlets. I’ve seen what drugs can do, and men who shag around. I think of the awful life my mum had. I look towards Snow and heat up inside at the intensity in his eyes as his gaze moves from my eyes down towards my breasts. It’s nice that he feels he can talk to me so openly, yet every time I feel a little closer to him, he does or says something that makes me hold back.

  I can sense he’s waiting for my reply, though drugs and shagging around are taboo subjects that I can’t talk about. The air feels claustrophobic, so I’m quick to change the subject.

  “So, where does your brother fit into the business?”

  “Rayne’s the total opposite to me, he’s not good around people, so he stays in our London office, deals with the accounts, contracts, tour companies; you name it, he does it. I travel the world, and stop off at all twenty of our hotels; there’s only one I don’t visit, that’s Rayne’s baby.”

  “Why, what’s wrong with it? Is it rundown?” I probe.

  “The Seasons Hotel? You’ve got to be joking; it’s probably the most luxurious of our chain. I’d love to sink my teeth into the complex, and there’s so much I’d love to change.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  He shakes his head. “I just don’t get on with the manager. A clash of personalities, I guess, so I stay away. Not really struck on Jamaica either, so can’t say I’m bothered.”

  “You can’t be serious? My sister went there for her honeymoon; she loved it, said it’s beautiful.”

  “Whatever, Darc,” he says, and reaches for his phone. “Chase can’t be too far from here, if he decides to answer his fucking phone, that is.”

  I gaze down into Snow’s lap while he texts. My eyes can’t help but wander to the bulge held tightly in his trousers.

  “I’ll make a few calls and get our friend a babysitter for the night. Eh, Darc, just thinking, if the driver puts his foot down we should make it to the jewellers; I can assure you they won’t keep us waiting.”

  “Snow, it’s a nice gesture, it really is, but…”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer, and you can forget about that plastic shit.”

  I roll my eyes. “I was trying to make
a point…”

  “Okay, point taken. When you pick out the piece that you want, imagine it’s from a cracker, but most importantly I want you to remember that whatever the cost, it’s been given to you from me with love.”

  It’s late evening, and Chase, Rayne and I are walking down a busy street towards a cocktail bar. Fletchers is brightly lit with neon lights and sits on the corner of the street. Since he picked me up from the hotel, Chase hasn’t uttered a word, his eyes haven’t moved away from his phone and his fingers haven’t stopped texting. If he can’t be bothered to speak, neither can I. I twizzle my diamond necklace around in my fingers. It’s unreal; I could have bought my house twice over with the amount of money it cost, and still have change in my purse. I nearly died when I found out the price, but whatever I said, Snow wouldn’t take no for an answer. I keep clutching it in my hand, half expecting someone to jump out at me and steal it. I think back to my eighteenth birthday. Mum surprised me with a gold-plated curb chain from her catalogue; forty pounds, I snigger to myself. It was the most expensive necklace I had ever worn, and now I’m strutting round the streets of London with half a million pounds fastened around my neck.

  “Darc, wait up!” Rayne calls.

  I flick my head round, brushing my hair from my eyes. He’s trying so hard to keep up. I was so focused on my necklace I hadn’t noticed how fast I was walking. Hearing him shout after me, I slow down. He walks as close as he can so that his shirt brushes against my arm, and at every opportunity he tries to strike up conversation. But I don’t feel like talking and so blank him and look straight ahead.

  “What time did you say Snow was meeting us?” Rayne asks, taking my shoulder and slowing my steps.

  I click my tongue on the roof of my mouth.

  “I’ve already told you, the suit he wanted to wear tonight had lipstick on the collar.” I smile to myself, remembering how it got there. “It was collected from our room, so he’s just waiting for it to come back and he’ll be with us.”

  “Wait here,” Chase announces.

  “Bloody hell, you’ve actually got a voice,” I jibe, and he gives me a friendly punch on the top of my arm.

  As he requested, we huddle together and wait. I look from Rayne to Chase. I can’t fault Rayne for his dress sense, he looks impeccable: smart-casual, he wears a black open-neck shirt, jeans and black loafers. I hate his attitude and even more his rudeness towards Snow, but that can’t hide his sexiness. I don’t want him to see me looking at him, so I look at Chase instead. If anyone could get it wrong, he manages every time: he is wearing white shorts and a white T-shirt, clubbing! He looks like he’s about to play a tennis match.

  As we wait under a street light I can’t miss the shine on Chase’s T-shirt; hadn’t anyone taught him that when you iron certain fabrics you need to turn the clothing inside out? I giggle to myself and he passes me a knowing smile; he must know from the way I’m grinning at him that I’m secretly taking the piss.

  I look down at myself and the long black dress Snow had delivered to our suite; he said he wanted something that would fit nicely in all the right places, and following its straight line down to the floor I can see that it does just that, for with every movement I make, it moves with me, emphasising my curves; being a size twelve, it has plenty of curves to hang onto.

  My teeth play with my bottom lip as my thoughts take me back to the hotel an hour earlier; my body still tingles from the sex we had. He had bent me over the bed and ripped off my undies, referring to it as fucking me from behind. We finished off breathless, lying together on the covers, his penis moving slowly inside me. For the first time he left the lights on, and afterwards he held me in his arms as we looked out at London by night. I didn’t lie when I said his suit had gone in for dry cleaning, but that wasn’t the reason he stalled tonight; he was shattered after our three-hour sex session. I laugh aloud as I think how much more stamina I have these days.

  “Look…” Chase laughs, holding out his hands. “I packed casual, not for nights out on the town.”

  “Oh shut up, Chase, you ginger prick.” My response is so quick I didn’t have time to think about what I was saying.

  I look at his face, but it gives nothing away; God, I hope I haven’t offended him.

  “Whoa, Darc, think you’ve been spending far too much time with Snow.”

  His humour eases my mind and I throw my arms around his neck; it’s like throwing my arms around a cuddly teddy bear. His laughter is infectious, and we’re soon giggling together like kids.

  A siren blares and we jump apart as a cop car screeches to a halt. Half on the pavement half on the road, two doors shoot open and two cops jump out. The shorter of the two bounds towards me, grabbing my wrists. Passers-by are staring, huddled together like spectators. My blood runs cold. They must have the wrong person, I’ve done nothing wrong.

  “We’re arresting you,” the police officer announces, “on suspicion of theft and being in possession of stolen goods. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. You can give a statement down at the station.”

  I can hear loud talking around me as the crowd grows. Lights flash from camera phones, and I bow my head so they can’t catch my face.

  Rayne steps in.

  “Stolen goods? She hasn’t stolen anything!” he says, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me from the officer.

  “What about that chunky diamond necklace?” Chase says, pointing at my neck.

  I grimace; if I could reach him I would hit him.

  “It was a present,” I insist as a hand rests on my head, moving me along the pavement and pushing me down into the police car.

  I can’t miss the look of shock on Rayne’s face as I peer out through the window, whilst Chase waves his hand and winks at me.

  I bang on the front seat with the heel of my hand.

  “Let me out, you’ve made a mistake!”

  “Do that again and you’ll be had for assault,” the driver shouts back.

  I can feel my legs, my hands, every inch of my body shaking.

  “I want Snow!” I shout.

  “No, love, it’s a lawyer you want, and a bloody good one at that.”

  I feel like a damsel in distress. I throw my hand over my brow and collapse down onto the back seat, sobbing.

  Finally managing to compose myself, I sit up and open my eyes, blinking hard. Car headlights are now sporadic, almost non-existent. We’re driving out of the city. Surely this can’t be right? Then I think of Snow, his past, the drugs and the life he’s led. Are they bent cops trying to get one over on him? Am I their hostage? I wonder as I think of the millions he has stashed away in overseas accounts.

  After what seems like a lifetime, we pull up in the back of beyond. God, where the hell are we? I hear their deep voices as they chat between themselves and can’t help wondering if they’re going to kill me or tie me up and lock me in the boot. A line of garages sits in a desolate expanse of land, which is fenced off. I catch sight of another cop car pulling up in front of one of the garage’s up-and-over metal door. Our car creeps along slowly to join it; we draw up at its side, and the engine is switched off. The back doors are thrown open, but the men don’t speak to me. Hands reach in, pawing at my arms, and I’m pulled out and dropped onto the hard tarmac. I wriggle around, trying to escape, but they close in, the tips of their shoes pressed into my sides. Still struggling, I peer up; there’s only one man in the other cop car. He gets out, walks round the bonnet and stands over me, looking down. It’s dark, so I’m unable to see him, but I can just make out a police uniform, a hat on his head and a pair of dark glasses covering his eyes.

  “Let me go!” I holler. “What the hell’s going on? What right have you to arrest me?”

  “I’ve every right,” he mutters quietly under his breath.

  I squint up into the cop’s face. His mouth twists into a half
smile.

  “You’ve been arrested…” There’s a pause, like he’s thinking what to say. “You’ve been arrested … for being too fucking sexy.”

  He lowers his glasses, resting them on the bridge of his nose, and then with his other hand he lifts off his hat.

  “Snow, you bastard!” I hiss, kicking my heels at his ankles.

  He crouches down, leaning his head in my face. I can smell a strong minty essence on his breath.

  “I don’t do boring, Darc, you should know that,” he says.

  Reaching into his pocket, he turns and tosses an envelope towards the other two men.

  “This will more than cover the car and your time for tonight … oh, and any stains I may leave.”

  They step forwards, lean down and shake his hand.

  “Job’s a good’n,” they chunter. “Sorry, love,” they call down at me.

  But I don’t answer; I’m far too pissed off.

  Snow gets to his feet, but doesn’t offer me his hand; he just stands there staring down at me. I hear the engine start, see headlights and watch the other cops drive away. Snow walks towards the car and opens the back door.

  “Get in,” he tells me.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” I snap, getting to my knees. “After the stunt you’ve just pulled? You should have seen the crowd gawping at me; you’ve made me a laughing stock. It’s not just that you scared me shitless, I had all sort of crap going round in my head.”

  Even now my heart is racing, and I just want to go home.

  “I’m not asking you,” he said in a stern voice.

  “You what?” I spit out as I get to my feet.

  “I’m telling you; now do as you’re told and get in the fucking car.”

  He takes a couple of steps towards me. I open my mouth to reply, but my words are lost as he grabs me by the shoulders, spins me round at speed and slams me over the bonnet. I feel his rough fingers drag themselves down to my wrists, which he holds firm, forcing them behind my back. Then he leans over me, crushing me with the firmness of his body and sandwiching me between him and the cold metal. I flinch as his stubble cuts into my cheek.