Snowed In: A Billionaire Winter Novella

by Linnea May

  The timing could not have been more perfect, too. Just as I came down the stairs, I saw him turning around, trying to negotiate with Risu as if she was posing some kind of threat to him, his hand raised in defense. He couldn't know it, but stretching out your arm toward a somewhat tame squirrel is the last thing you should do if you want them to stay away. To them, it looks like an invitation, a branch they can jump on.

  I tried to hide in the shadows, remaining as quiet as possible as I observed their little interaction, silently rooting for Risu when she was testing the air, estimating the distance and considering a jump I wasn't sure she was ready to take. I almost squealed with happiness when I finally saw her take flight, because it's a clear sign of improvement. She's doing so much better than she was just a few days ago!

  Jason, on the other hand, looks greatly pained and irritated as he glances over to me, his arm still stretched out, with Risu climbing up higher on his shoulder.

  "Get it off of me!" he barks at me, and I respond with another laughing fit.

  "Now!" he insists. "Give me some help here!"

  I'm still laughing when I close in on him, clicking my tongue to attract Risu's attention. I never figured out if this was actually the best way to lure them in, but it appears that squirrels react to clicking a lot better than to a human's voice. Of course, that doesn't keep me from speaking with her nonetheless.

  "Come here," I say in a soft voice, holding out my hand to her. "Let's free this poor man."

  I can see from the corner of my eye that he's throwing me a nasty look, but I choose to ignore it, focusing entirely on the little animal balanced on his arm. Risu sniffs in my direction, and when I hold up my hand right next to her, she immediately lets go of him and steps over, happily trailing along my arm and up to my shoulder, where she hides beneath my locks of hair.

  "Look how well she's doing!" I exclaim, beaming at him.

  "She scratched up my entire arm!" he complaints, turning around to me and presenting his arm so I can inspect his wounds. I raise my eyes when I see the tiny little scratches on his skin. Sure, it must feel uncomfortable, especially when you're not used to having a little rodent climbing up on you, but it's not as bad as he makes it sound.

  "What if I get rabies?" he asks, throwing me a reproachful look. "Isn't this dangerous?"

  I laugh out loud. "Oh my God, calm down! You're not going to die."

  Risu gets tangled up in my hair, and I'm busy keeping her under control as I walk over to the cage. She's antsy and eager to jump around, which is understandable after she's been cooped up in that cage for so long and unable to move as she pleases with her broken leg.

  I can feel his eyes on me as I place her on top of the cage, holding her in place with one hand while I grab her leg with the other, carefully inspecting it while she struggles beneath me. The bandage has fallen off, and I'm pretty sure she removed it herself, but that doesn't mean that she's fully healed yet.

  "Are you seriously tending to that thing first?" I hear him asking from where he’s standing behind me.

  I roll my eyes, unbeknownst to him.

  "She's removed her bandage, so I need to check on her," I say without turning around. "I just want to make sure she's not rushing things."

  He scoffs, and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this.

  Risu endures my little inspection as well as one could expect from a squirrel, but as soon as I let go of her, she's on the loose again, climbing down the side of the cage in such a hurry that it's impossible for me to catch her. There's only one thing that can lure her back and keep her occupied for a while.

  Jason is standing at the kitchen counter, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the squirrel, who happily scurries through the living room. I open one of the upper cabinets and reach for the container holding the nuts. I have to seal them and put them away securely, otherwise Risu would just eat through them within a few hours - and store the rest in random places around the house.

  Of course, she's attracted by the sound of the rattling nuts right away, and I chuckle as I see Jason jumping away from me when she darts across the floor toward us.

  "Come, breakfast," I pipe up, as I make my way over to the cage. It's close to impossible to control a hungry squirrel around hazelnuts, so I don't even try to keep her from stealing the first one right from the bucket, but I make sure to place the rest inside her cage. She's happily cracking her first prey after distancing herself a few inches from me, but I can tell that she didn't miss me placing another batch inside her cage. "That'll keep her busy for a while," I announce, as I get back up on my feet and store the remaining nuts back in the cabinet.

  He throws a skeptical look my way, and it's now that I notice the scratches on his chest, too.

  "She really got you good," I remark, carefully tracing along some of the light scratches right below his collar bone. "Do you need me to tend to your wounds, warrior?"

  I wink up at him and he responds with the first smile of the day.

  "I warned you, don't get cocky with me," he says, his voice adopting a menacing tone.

  "I'm not scared of you," I say, pointing over to Risu on the other side of the room. "My little guard over there will keep you in check easily."

  He shakes his head, and I notice him flinch ever so slightly when Risu jumps across the floor, picking up the scent of the nuts and retreating to her cage to crack the rest of them open.

  "Are you hungry?" I ask, scanning the carton he has produced from my kitchen. It looks as if he was about to make some coffee and eggs when Risu so viciously attacked him.

  "I was going to make you breakfast," he says.

  I smile at him. "That's sweet. But you're my guest. Let me do it."

  He reluctantly moves aside when I gesture for him to do so, and then watches from behind as I start by first making the coffee.

  "I must say, I've never seen a grown man scream like that, just because of a little squirrel," I tease him. "Or... anyone, for that matter."

  I hear him huff behind my back.

  "I'm not used to it, that's all," he says. "Not many animals where I live."

  "You didn't have pets when you grew up?"

  I throw him a look over my shoulder and see him shaking his head.

  "Nope," he says. "My family never cared much for pets."

  "And you never wanted any?"

  "No squirrels, that's for sure," he retorts.

  I chuckle and start the coffeemaker before turning around to him. He's sitting in one of the high chairs at the very far end of the counter, as far away as possible from Risu's cage. Despite just waking up, he looks dashingly handsome, even with his tousled hair and the dark stubble on his face. He's not wearing anything but his boxer briefs, despite the chilly temperature. I wonder if he's doing it for my benefit, because I sure am enjoying the view of his chiseled - and now slightly damaged - chest. Still, he must be cold. I'm wearing a light robe over my pajamas, and even I am shivering.

  "Could you start another fire for us?" I ask him, pointing to the fireplace. "It's much cheaper and more effective than turning on the heater. And you must be cold."

  A smile dances on his lips when he sees my eyes trailing along his buff chest.

  "Sure," he says, getting down from the chair. "A very conservative division of labor, just as I like it."

  I raise a brow at him.

  "Don't get cocky with me," I warn him. "I'll set my squirrel on you."

  Chapter 20

  Jason

  Her breakfast surpasses whatever I would have been able to whip up by far. It looked so effortless and happened so quickly, too. I watched her whirl around, every move thought out and well-practiced, and she managed to make three things at once. I asked her several times if there was anything I could help with, but we both knew that I would just be in the way. Still, I feel awkward and useless and am painfully reminded of the many days I spent in a very similar situation, in my family's kitchen, idly watching while one of my many nannies pre
pared food for me. I was strictly forbidden to help, because it wasn't proper for a kid of my standing. It's no wonder I have somewhat of a snobbish attitude considering my upbringing.

  "You're really good at this," I praise, as she's adding the finishing touches.

  "Well, it's part of my job," she simply says as she places the food in front of me. "Did you forget I work at a diner?"

  I shake my head. "Of course not. But I thought you were just..."

  I bite my tongue when I see her brows narrowing together.

  "I mean, I-"

  "You thought I was just a waitress," she finishes brusquely. "No need to explain."

  She sounds hurt, and I hate that I'm responsible for that. Especially after the way she reacted when I revealed my name and background last night, this is not the kind of impression I want to leave with her.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," I apologize.

  She huffs. "I know you didn't. Really, stop worrying about it."

  My gaze follows her, arching my eyebrows in surprise when she walks over to the coffee table in the living room area. She produces something from her robe and bends over, lighting one of the four candles on the wreath that’s placed there. I watch as she stands there for a moment, her eyes lingering on the candle flame for a few moments before she turns back to me.

  "First Advent Sunday," she says as she sits down next to me. "Gotta light the candle before we eat."

  I hesitate, casting her a quizzical look. "Do you want to… pray, too?"

  She’s laughing as she shakes her head.

  "No, no it’s fine," she assures me. "This is more about tradition than faith. My parents always had a wreath during Advent season. I used to get so excited when the first candle was lit, because it means Christmas is getting close."

  She pauses and a nostalgic sigh escapes her lips.

  "For me, the wreath belongs to Christmas, just as much as the markets."

  "The markets?"

  "Christmas markets," she explains. "They’re all over the place in Germany during Christmas. They sell all kinds of yummy treats, handmade decorations, delicious drinks – like the mulled wine we had last night."

  "Sounds pretty cool."

  "Pretty cool," she repeats, mocking me. "They’re amazing. I miss them a lot. There’s just something about standing in the cold, surrounded by all those pretty lights and enticing smells, warming up with a hot cup of mulled wine."

  Her gaze wanders dreamily, before she snaps out of reminiscing with a sudden jerk, as if someone had slapped her to come back to her senses. She picks up her fork and smiles at me, a somber smile, as always. "Let’s eat."

  Her accent magnifies her demand, causing me to dig right into the food without further ado. Her breakfast is similar to what’s served at the diner - a two-egg omelet with onions and tomato, bacon and buttered toast. Her coffee is better than what they serve at the diner, though. It's strong and dark, just like I like it.

  "Have you checked the weather reports this morning?" she asks, without looking at me.

  I nod. "I have, and it looks like it'll be hard for me to get anywhere today."

  "Pity," she sighs. "So, you're stuck here for another day?"

  I glance over to her, but she refuses to reciprocate my look.

  "Yes, I guess so," I say. "Unless you don't want me here, of course. I can find another-"

  "I doubt that," she cuts me off, and now she's finally looking at me, but it's a frosty look. "Like Mrs. Lynn told you last night, there aren’t any lodges or hotels here. You'd have to stay with another stranger."

  "Another stranger," I repeat, locking her eyes down with mine. "I wouldn't call you that."

  Her mouth twists, but she doesn't say a word and turns her focus back to the plate in front of her.

  We eat in silence for a while, unspoken questions lingering between us. How are we going to spend the day? Does she no longer want me here? Is she just letting me stay here, because she feels she has to? She didn't say a word about not letting me stay another night, but she also didn't say anything about wanting me here. It was more of a matter-of-fact situation. But I still don't know what to make of her, or what to make of last night and the way she left things.

  "Are we going to talk about what happened last night?" I ask eventually, no longer able to bear the awkward silence between us.

  She looks up from her plate, casting me a somewhat surprised look.

  "About what exactly?" she asks.

  I clear my throat.

  "Let's start with the way you left after I told you my name," I begin. "I still don't get what scared you away like that."

  The expression on her face hardens.

  "You are a person one can Google," she says, gritting her teeth as she ponders her next words. "You're like... a big deal, while I'm a... nobody. It's just... it's weird!"

  I roll my eyes at her. "Lena, I don't know where you're going with this."

  "How can you not get this?" she hisses. "It's just weird... you're some kind of mega millionaire, and yet you somehow ended up here, in this dump."

  "Why would you call it that?" I probe. "It's your home!"

  She sighs. "Yes, but..."

  "Do you still think that there's something fishy about my being here? That I followed you here or something?"

  The muscles in her jaw are twitching as she contemplates her response.

  "No, not really," she says eventually. "I guess it really is just a strange coincidence."

  "Or fate," I interpose.

  She looks at me, her eyes widening. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that, too."

  I take another sip of my coffee, unsure how I feel about my last statement and what it may cause her to think.

  Fate? That sounds a little too romantic for my personal taste. But it doesn't seem entirely farfetched. There is something about her, something that I cannot shake off. I'm not done with her, and it's hard to argue that I'm not entirely unhappy about the fact that I will have to stay another day. As pressed as I felt to get back to New York as soon as possible just a couple of days ago, it all seems so minor now, so inconsequential compared to spending another day with her.

  "You may not believe me, but what happened here yesterday, Lena, that's not an everyday occurrence for me."

  She shakes her head and huffs, casting me a veiled glance from the side. "Yeah, right."

  "Believe me, or don't," I say. "I have no reason to lie to you, do I?"

  She shrugs and takes a bite from her toast.

  "So, you don't want to do it again?" I ask, observing her from the side as I await her reaction.

  She tries to look unfazed by my question, but I can tell that it touches her. There's a flicker traveling across her face and a change in her posture, a tensing that tells me more than she likes.

  "You don't want to play again? Fuck again? Have that pretty ass spanked again?"

  Now, she's actually blushing, and I can tell that swallowing her food has suddenly become that much harder for her.

  "I didn't say that," she finally admits.

  "So, you do want to do it again?" I probe, leaning closer to her, just to see if my proximity intimidates her as much as I want it to.

  She doesn't retreat when I move so close that we're almost touching, leaning in to leave a few words against the shell of her ear.

  "Tell me you're not feeling it right now," I whisper, my lips so close that her hair is dancing in my breath. "You may deny it, but your body remembers - and I remember. I remember the way you trembled under my touch, the way it felt when my cock was buried deep inside you, the way your muscles clenched around me, the way your pussy dripped all over-"

  "Stop it," she breathes. "Please. Don't."

  "Why not?" I ask, withdrawing so I can look her in the eyes. But she avoids my gaze, lowering her head and turning away from me like a shy schoolgirl.

  It's so pleasing to see her change like that, within an instant. It's like turning a switch, a switch that only I know how to r
each.

  She slips me a curious glance from the side, biting her lower lip.

  "You're not wrong," she admits.

  "That's a roundabout way of saying I'm right," I say, winking at her.

  She relaxes visibly when I move away from her and return to my food.

  "This really is excellent," I praise her again, gesturing to my almost empty plate. "How can I ever repay you?"

  She chuckles. "I'm sure you can think of a way."

  Our eyes meet when we both risk a quick glance at the other. A sassy smile is tugging at her lips, telling me that she's back to her usual self, a very different person than the one I just saw a few moments ago.

  "I can start by doing the dishes," I offer, causing her to laugh and roll her eyes at me.

  "Not exactly what I was thinking, but yeah, you can do that," she says.

  "I didn't say I'm going to leave it at that."

  Blush flushes her features as she turns back to the plate to finish her food, a smile tugging at her lips.

  Chapter 21

  Lena

  He stays true to his promise of doing the dishes, and I leave him to it to go upstairs to take a shower. Before I leave the kitchen, he asks me to close the door to Risu's cage. He claims that it's her safety that he's concerned about, but I don't believe that for even a second.

  His words linger with me as I make my way up the stairs, wondering what today will have in store for me. It's all so strange. Him, the situation we were put in. What happened between us. It all seems so surreal, yet I know it happened.

  When I checked the weather this morning before coming downstairs, I knew it wouldn't be possible for him to leave. If anything, the snow has gotten worse and the airports won’t be reopening anytime soon. Crews are probably busy clearing the streets, but it's doubtful that the roads are safe yet all the way to New York City. If he had insisted on leaving today, I would have fought him on it, mostly because I would worry too much about him driving through one of the worst blizzards we've had in years. Even the diner is closed today. It was Mrs. Lynn's call that woke me up this morning, informing me that I wouldn't have to work today. She also inquired about my "guest", asking how things are going with him and if I needed any help. I don't know what kind of help she could offer, because I know she has no room in her home to take him in, but she may just be worried. Mrs. Lynn has become like a second Oma to me, even before her best friend, my grandmother, died.