Her lips turned up again. The oldest of the party was easily Zac’s age, probably a few years older. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to join in the snowball fight and have fun?’ she teased as they left the room. ‘You’d make one young woman very happy.’
He paused at the foot of the stairs, drawing her loosely into the circle of his arms. ‘There’s only one young woman I’d like to make happy this weekend,’ he said softly, ‘but unfortunately, my considerable skill and talent in the area I like to think my speciality are not viable with her. However, I fully intend to have fun, as you put it, and who knows, maybe even a snowball fight for two. OK?’
Rachel nodded, part of her acknowledging he’d taken the news of her virginity extremely well in the circumstances. Some men would have just brushed the reasons she hadn’t slept with anyone aside and continued with the seduction technique; others would have sulked or even turned violent. Few would have reacted like Zac and not even tried to persuade her to change her mind.
Of course, it might be that he didn’t fancy her that much anyway.
Zac kissed the top of her nose and held onto her hand as they walked up the stairs to the first floor, and for the umpteenth time that morning Rachel found herself marvelling that she was here, in this inn, with easily the most handsome and downright sexy man she’d ever seen, and that included the icons of the silver screen. And if he thought they were going to have fun this weekend, who was she to argue?
CHAPTER NINE
THEY went for a long walk in the winter wonderland outside the pub’s warm confines after breakfast. According to the weathermen there had been a record fall of snow the night before and the sky looked low and heavy with more, but when they left the inn it wasn’t snowing. The wood and meadows directly behind the inn had become an enchanted world and, with no sound of traffic from the blocked roads thereabouts, the silence was magical.
The frozen white landscape, silver-grey sky and bitter cold had created an alien universe, one in which the normal laws of nature seemed suspended, but when they entered the wood some two hundred yards behind the inn the sound of a woodpecker’s rapping broke the stillness. The snow wasn’t so deep here: the wood consisted mostly of tall, stately fir trees and their branches had become like a canopy of white far above, protecting parts of the grounds to some extent.
They walked with Rachel’s arm tucked in Zac’s and their bodies close—like a real couple, as Rachel put it to herself. The air was icily pure and exhilarating, although when eventually they came out on the far side of the wood into a meadow, the walking was hard and she found herself hanging onto him.
They’d talked of inconsequential things and Zac had made her laugh a lot, but twenty yards or so into the meadow he suddenly pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she was breathless. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that all morning,’ he whispered against the flushed cold skin of her cheek. ‘You’re addictive, do you know that?’
He kissed her again or perhaps Rachel kissed him, she wasn’t sure. She just knew she needed the feel of him, the warmth of his lips and the hunger of his mouth. For a split second she wondered how she was going to feel when he went away back to Canada, but then she brushed the thought aside. She’d deal with that when she had to; for now, he was here.
They swayed together, his hands cupping her face for deeper penetration of her mouth, and she gave herself up to the thrill of it—the white, cold day, the pearly-grey sky and the sharp air part of the dizzily new sensations tumbling through her. Murmuring her name, Zac slid his hands into her thick coat and under the sweater she was wearing, running his fingers over the silky skin underneath her bra before moving up to the rounded swell of her breasts in their brief lacy cups.
She gasped, a shiver snaking through her at the touch of his hands, and immediately he adjusted her clothing and buttoned her coat, his voice rueful as he murmured, ‘You’re cold and no wonder. I’m sorry, Rachel, it’s not the day for that kind of outdoor pursuit, is it?’
She wanted to tell him the weather had nothing at all to do with the way she was feeling, but he was kissing her again, his mouth nipping and caressing her lips in a way that took all lucid thought out of her head.
How long they stood together in the silver-white world she didn’t know, but when it began to snow again it was some moments before his mouth left hers, his breathing heavy and erratic. ‘You taste like honey,’ he breathed against her face, and as her eyes opened to look into his, she saw the gold of his eyes was smoky dark. ‘Honey laced with some kind of drug that makes me want more and more.’ He released her slowly, tucking her arm through his again as he added, ‘We’d better get back. According to our friendly weatherman, this is going to continue all day once it starts.’
‘We haven’t had our snowball fight,’ she said inanely, to hide how bereft she felt now his lips had left hers.
‘Later.’ He smiled, his cool control in place once more. ‘For now I think it’s home and a hot toddy.’
Home. It was only an expression but the word pierced like a spear, suggesting an intimate cosiness that would never be.
Zac must have noticed something because as they began walking his tone was quizzical. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing.’ How could she tell him that her feelings for him had done a U-turn that both amazed and confused her? A few days ago she had been convinced she wanted nothing to do with this man and she hadn’t been timid about letting him know either; now she didn’t know which end of her was up. The trouble was, every minute she spent in his company, every little thing she learnt about him increased the need to be with him. And this was a no-win situation. Aware his gaze was on her, she added lightly, ‘I’m torn, I guess. It’s lovely to make the most of this before it turns all slushy and horrible, but at the same time a hot toddy sounds nice.’
He tucked her arm more securely in his. ‘I guess the novelty of this white stuff is lost on me these days. Canada has rather a lot in the winter.’ He grinned wryly.
‘I suppose so.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Tell me about your life, Zac. Your home, your work, your friends.’ She wanted to be able to picture it when he had gone, even though it probably wasn’t a good idea. ‘Do you live by yourself or with your parents?’
‘Hell, not my parents. Oh, don’t get me wrong, they’re great, but working as I do in the family firm I need my own space. After…’ He hesitated for an infinitesimal moment but Rachel noticed it ‘…Moira died, I sold the apartment we’d been living in and rented a place for a couple of years. That was my wild time.’ This pause was longer. ‘And then one day I woke up in a strange bed with no recollection of the night before and realised I had to stop before I killed myself or someone else.’
The tawny eyes flashed over her face, probing, but she showed no reaction, although she was filled with pity for the lost young man he’d been then.
‘So I stopped. I made my peace with my family and repented in sackcloth and ashes to my poor mother who’d been convinced she’d have to identify me on a mortuary slab one day. Then I put myself through university by taking a number of part-time jobs.’
‘Your parents couldn’t have supported you financially?’
‘Sure.’ The hard, handsome face was expressionless. ‘But I needed to do it myself. When I’d got my degree, I came into the family firm and began to get some shop-floor experience—however good an academic background, you can’t beat hands-on training. I bought a place a little out of town with a garden that runs down to the river, somewhere where I can fish weekends and hang out without seeing another soul if I don’t want to.’
She stared at him. She’d imagined something different—a glitzy bachelor pad perhaps or an umpteen-bedroomed house where he could entertain.
‘What?’ He’d caught the look on her face.
‘Nothing.’