The Millionaire's Snowbound Seduction
‘How about me, what?’
‘You said you had some stuff, too. Don’t you want to bring it in?’
He shrugged. ‘Is isn’t much, just a couple of steaks. I left the box in my car. It’s cold enough to keep and besides…’
‘Besides, you’ll be leaving soon.’
They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Nick smiled.
‘Remember when we were here before?’
‘Which time?’
‘The first time,’ he said quickly. ‘There’s nothing about the last time that’s worth recalling.’
Holly nodded. ‘I remember.’
‘It snowed that first time, too.’ His smile tilted. ‘We had a snowball fight. And you said I cheated.’
‘You did! You sneaked up behind me—’
‘I hit you, fair and square.’
‘Didn’t.’
‘Did.’
‘Didn’t! The rules were—’
Nick walked casually to the door and opened it. Holly saw what was coming, shrieked and feinted, but it was too late. He grabbed her, and the handful of snow he’d gathered slid icily down her collar and along her spine.
‘That’s a declaration of war, Brennan,’ she gasped.
‘Marquess of Queensberry rules,’ he yelled, as they grabbed their jackets and ran outside.
‘Street rules,’ she yelled back.
‘Give me a break, Cabot.’ Nick dodged her first snowball. ‘What does a poor little rich girl know about the street?’
‘Plenty,’ Holly said, and set out to prove it.
* * *
Half an hour later, they’d fought their way almost to the road.
Nick ducked behind a pine tree. A snowball whizzed by his nose.
‘Enough,’ he said, laughing. ‘I give up, Cabot. You win.’
Holly stalked towards him. ‘You’d better not be trying to fool me, Brennan.’
‘Me?’ he said, eyes wide and innocent.
She bent, scooped up a handful of snow, and kept on coming. ‘I haven’t forgotten how this started, with you jamming ice down my collar while we were still in the kitchen.’
‘It was snow, not ice, and that was different.’
‘Different, how?’
‘Different, because I saw an opportunity and took it.’ Holly yelped as Nick grabbed her and hoisted her up in his arms. ‘Like now,’ he said, laughing, and they tumbled down into a deep white drift.
She struggled to get away, but he caught her, rolled her on her back and straddled her.
‘Give up?’ he said, holding her arms above her head with one hand, while he scooped up snow with the other.
Holly gasped. ‘No fair,’ she sputtered.
‘You called it war, Cabot. Anything’s fair, in love and in war.’
‘You’re no gentleman, Nick Brennan.’
‘And you’re no lady, Holly Cabot.’ He leaned forward. ‘Say “uncle” or get your face scrubbed with snow.’
‘Never!’ Holly stuck out her tongue. ‘I don’t give up that easily.’
‘Okay. You asked for it—’
Holly bucked as he leaned towards her. ‘Nick. Nick, you rat…’
She laughed, and he laughed…and suddenly they were in each other’s arms and their mouths were clinging together.
‘Nick,’ Holly whispered, ‘oh, Nick!’
‘Baby,’ Nick breathed, ‘my sweet, sweet baby.’
He flattened his hands on either side of her flushed, snow-chilled face and kissed her with all the bottled-up passion and desire of the endless years that had separated them. Holly wound her arms around his neck, kissing him back as she had so many times in her dreams.
‘Kiss me,’she sighed, against his mouth. ‘Kiss me…’
The sound was faint, at first, and had no meaning. It was a distant rumble, but it grew louder and louder.
No, she thought, no, please!
Nick heard it, too. He raised his head, listening. ‘What in hell is that?’
Holly tucked her face against his shoulder.
‘It’s the plow,’ she said, in a broken whisper. ‘They’re clearing the road.’
‘No.’ The word burst from his throat, harsh with anger and disbelief. He rolled over, sat up, and glared around him. ‘I don’t—’
‘Look. Through those birches. Do you see it?’
Nick’s breath left his lungs in one long rush. He saw it, all right. The plow had come, the road was clear.
It was time for him to leave, unless…
Holly reached out and touched her hand to his cheek. ‘It’s for the best,’ she said softly. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, but she smiled. ‘There’s no going back, Nick. We both know that.’