by Rosie Praks
“Shut up, Darcy. I’m not fat. Just baby flesh.” She tried to complain, but it wouldn’t erase that image in her head.
“Sorry, I didn’t say you’re fat. You’re just really soft. When we slept together that night, and I took off all your clothes, I didn’t even know what lay before me. You’re like an ugly wrapped present, what with that black goth dress you wear all the time. But what lay beneath was soft, supple skin. I wanted to dive in at that moment. It’s like I couldn’t help—”
“Keep talking and I’ll bite your ear off.” Her face burned red. Literally. Why must Darcy start talking about that night when she was also thinking about the same thing? This was not good.
Darcy chuckled. “Ooo. Someone is into biting.”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep for a bit.”
Whitney gripped her fingers around Darcy’s neck for a firmer hold, bringing her cheek closer to his broad back until it rested against his thick puffer jacket. She closed her eyes, breathing in the cold fresh air.
“On my back?” Darcy asked.
“Of course. You got a problem with that?” Whitney smiled to herself, relishing the warmth.
“No. Just make sure you don’t lose your grip. If you fall, I’m leaving you to the bears.”
“Darcy! We don’t have bears in New Zealand.”
“He-he. You’re awake now? It’s okay. Go to sleep. When we get back to the main base, I’ll wake you.”
Whitney didn’t sleep. Even though her eyes were closed, she was always aware of every subtle movement Darcy made. His light steps, his slight gentle movement, always making sure he wouldn’t wake her up.
Whitney felt warm and cozy hugging Darcy’s back. She watched the scenery pass by. They were now entering a mass of thick trees, or should she call this a forest? A niggling thought passed through her. Fear silently crept in.
We’re not lost, are we?
“How long to go now?” she asked instead, not wanting to think negative thoughts.
“Not long now. We did fall down a steep slope.”
“Are you sure we’re not lost?” she asked, watching as Darcy went deeper into the forest.
“Whitney. I’m a master navigator. I never get lost. I’m taking you through the shortcut,” Darcy replied boastfully.
“You seem to be so sure of yourself.”
“Of course. This is my terrain. I know this ski field like the back of my hand.”
Darcy’s confident declarations calmed her heart, somewhat, and she sighed with relief. “Well, as long as we get back before dinner. I’m starting to get hungry.”
“If only you were a vampire, I’d offer my blood to you.”
Whitney laughed. “You’re going to sacrifice yourself for my hunger?”
“Yeah. Of course. A man should always take care of a woman in times of need.”
A ping of longing surged through her again. For Darcy. That was what Clarice got, because she found love with Hunter. But… what would their relationship be like once they got back home?
“Hey! I remember that tree.” Whitney pointed out in the middle of her thought when she saw the pine tree with the lone pinecone. “We’ve been here before.”
“Whitney.” Darcy laughed, sounding extra confident in his skill of navigation through the forest. “Didn’t I tell you to trust in me? I won’t get you… Oh shit!”
Darcy jolted, then pulled to a stop on that spot.
“What? What is it?” Whitney’s heart started pumping a mile a minute.
“Whitney,” Darcy said bravely after placing her down on a solid rock. With a serious face, he uttered, “We’re officially lost.”
Chapter 19
Whitney couldn’t believe her ears. “Lost? What do you mean lost? I thought you said you were a master navigator, master of the ski field?”
“Well, yes.”
“So?”
“So we’re lost.”
“I don’t understand, Darcy.”
“We’re lost, Whitney. Officially and totally lost.”
“Lost! Oh God! I can’t believe this.”
“Actually, I have a confession to make.” Darcy grinned sheepishly. “It’s my first time on this ski field, too.”
“Darcy! But I trusted you.”
“Now, now. It’s not the end of the world. I’ll just call Hunter. I’m sure he’ll pick us up in a few hours.”
“A few hours? I can’t wait a few hours. I’m hungry. And I can’t believe we didn’t think about calling him before. God, we’re so stupid.”
“There’s no use blaming yourself now,” Darcy muttered while he was dialing Hunter’s number. After the second ring, he picked up. “Hunter, it’s me. We’re lost. What do we do?”
Whitney listened, watching Darcy’s lips twitching.
“Oh yeah. Okay, sure. Right. All right. You mean just keep walking straight. We’re that close? Yep. Okay. We’ll do that. See you soon. Thanks for the advice.”
“Well? What did Hunter say?” Whitney asked the minute he finished the call.
“Good news,” Darcy said, immediately picking her up and carrying her in his arms.
“Eee. Darcy, what are you doing?” she flounced in his arms.
“Carrying you,” he answered nonchalantly.
“You can always piggyback me like before.”
But Darcy just brushed aside the idea. “Nah. This way is more convenient and faster.”
“And where is there?”
“Ah, Whitney. You ask a lot of questions. If you must know, I’m taking you to a secluded place so I can make love to you.”
“Darcy!” she shrieked.
“Oh, I’m only joking.” He laughed, drawing his face closer into her personal boundary. “The last time we did it, you almost pulled my hair out. I’m actually taking you to the cabin.”
“The cabin. That still sounds mighty suspicious to me.”
“Apparently, Hunter said we’re close to one. So let’s go check out that leg of yours.”
Darcy’s quest came to a halt when he spotted the cabin after a five-minute walk. Whitney wanted down, but all Darcy did was shake his head and kick the door open. Inside, the little cabin smelled clean and fresh.
Darcy placed Whitney inside, told her to rest her leg against the footstool, then disappeared again. Whitney blinked, not sure what was going on. After a few minutes, though, Darcy was back, carrying all their ski equipment. He turned to her, gave her a lopsided grin, dropped the equipment at one corner of the room, then disappeared out the door again.
Whitney took this time to survey her surroundings. The cabin really was clean. It was only a single, open room with a log burner and three windows, one on each walls, the door in the other. Apart from that, there was nothing else. No bed, no couches. It was so barren that Whitney felt quite lonely without Darcy near. Thankfully, he came back at that moment, carrying firewood. She welcomed him with a smile, but the opened door sent a cold wind into the room. She shivered.
“Cold?” Darcy asked, concern etching his face. He came to crouch in front of her, feeling her cold hands.
“Yes.” She nodded.
Darcy immediately took off his thick jacket and placed it around her. He grinned sheepishly again. “Don’t worry.” He patted her clasped hands. “The room will be warm in a bit.”
Without further explanation, Darcy built a fire in the log burner, warming up the space. Whitney looked on in amazement.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Darcy grinned when he felt her heated gaze on his back. “I was a first class Boy Scout.”
“I’m not looking at you.” She lied as her eyes stole another glance at him.
“And now let’s look at that leg,” Darcy commented after finishing his task. He sat on the wooden floor, facing Whitney. He gently took her leg in his hands and examined it, slowly searching for the sore spot, massaging the pain away. “Not too bad. Just rest it for a bit tonight. As long as you don’t apply pressure on it, i
t should be better in no time.”
“Thanks,” Whitney murmured, looking up just in time to catch Darcy staring at her.
“No problem.” He smiled.
Suddenly, the atmosphere around them became dense, tension filling the empty space between them as their eyes locked tight in a fierce embrace. Eerie silence took over.
Whitney’s heart began to drum unceremoniously. Darcy gazed on, eyes consumed with only Whitney’s face, fingers still massaging her leg, lingering on her skin, lazily drawing circles on her ankle.
She swallowed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the raw sensation circulating through her body. She blinked, quickly breaking eye contact first and then extracting her leg free.
“We are really lost, right, Darcy?” she asked, just to break the tense atmosphere between them.
“Yeah.” Darcy nodded, the hooded mist slowly disappearing from his eyes. “I’ve called Hunter again. Weather’s not looking too good. There’s going to be a snowstorm coming our way soon. Best we stay in this cabin until tomorrow. Safer, you know. Hunter said he’ll do what he can on their side. So I guess for now, we’ll stay here and keep warm. I’ll stock more firewood.”
“But, Darcy—” Whitney started, catching his hand before he could escape.
Darcy looked at that hand for a moment, then grasped it, crouching again and looking into her large, frightened eyes. “It’s all right, Whitney. You got me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She blinked before murmuring, “Well, what I was trying to say was I’m hungry.”
“Oh.” Darcy chuckled, scratching his head at that dumb thought. And here he thought she was scared again. “I forgot about food. I have some sandwiches and chocolate bars in my bag. We’ll eat that for dinner.”
And that was how their evening went, eating sandwiches and chocolate bars, sitting near the log burner, staring at the flickering flames, talking about random things.
“You know, it’s so funny.” Darcy started on another random topic. “I’m very stubborn, just like you. My family wanted me to marry, but I said I’m not ready for that yet. I’m only twenty-five. I want to have my freedom. We have this small farm out in Wellington. Mum always pushed me to date these milkmaids. That’s what I liked to call them ‘cause they’re the daughters of our next-door neighbors. You know, old folks. They don’t have the mindset like us younger generations. Always want us to get married and settle down. But I thought there was more to the world than life on the farm. So I moved to Auckland after finishing University. I wanted to write articles. That’s why I came to work for E. Magazine. My aspiration is to write about what I love to do. Not work on a farm.”
“But you’re only my assistant,” Whitney said quietly, realizing his goal with her wasn’t going to come to fruition anytime soon. Darcy needed to experience other fields, excel in other areas. As his boss, what could she do to help?
“I’ll work my way up,” Darcy said nonchalantly. “It’s all about getting my foot in the door. Plus, there’re heaps of girls working in our company. It increases my chances of meeting my ideal type.”
“So what’s your ideal type?” Whitney wanted to slap herself again when she realized what came out of her mouth. But it was already too late. The words had already spewed out. And now there was no turning back.
Still, she hadn’t a clue why her heart hammered in anticipation for his answer. Was it so important to her?
“Blond hair. Blue eyes. Tall. Sweet,” Darcy said without thinking, eyes focused on the flames. “Someone I can hug every day. Someone who makes me feel warm.”
“Oh.” This was all she could say. Something stabbed at her heart.
“How about you? You and Johnathan?” Darcy turned the attention back to her. “There must be a history behind it all, right?”
“Me and Johnathan.” Whitney laughed drily. She picked up a loose twig near the log burner and snapped it between her fingers, feeling the pain from so many years ago rushing back to the surface. “I was young and stupid then. I fell in love with Johnathan after finishing high school. Thought he was going to marry me. Stupid thing was I ended up saying yes when he proposed. My first boyfriend. My first love. Or that was what I thought it was. Until he jilted me right before our wedding. So now I’ve resigned myself to being a spinster. There’s nothing ever good about love. You’ll only get hurt. Especially your heart.”
“Is that why you’re so sour toward men?”
Whitney looked up. Was that how people saw her? Sour? She just didn’t want to be influenced by men again; that was all. Did that classify her as a sour, bitter woman? The thought didn’t sit well with her.
“Sorry if I offended you.” Darcy spoke softly, trying to get his meaning across. “But let’s speak from the heart here. You say you were young and stupid. I want to offer my opinion. You’re not stupid, Whitney. Young, yes, but not stupid. I guess some things you’ve got to experience in order to learn. And bogging it down to one bad experience is almost saying you’re giving up on learning how to walk after falling once.
“I know love is complicated. Hell, love is shit sometimes, but if I found the one I love, I wouldn’t let that person go, no matter how many heartbreaks I’d been through in the past. ‘Cause if there’s a chance that person would love me back, then I’m all for it. Sometimes you need the scar of the past to appreciate how valuable your current relationship is.”
Whitney didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything.
Darcy continued. “So shouldn’t you open up your heart to the world and smile again? Being a witch is so outdated anyway. Why don’t you be a hot woman out to seduce a young man’s heart? I think it’ll be cool.”
“You’re so wise, Darcy.” Whitney sighed. “Here I’m older than you, but my life experience in that department hasn’t even passed grade school yet.”
“Now you’re giving me diabetes with all that sweet praise.” Darcy couldn’t contain that spilled out to other features on his face, even awaken his appendages that started touching Whitney subconsciously.
“No, I’m serious. Thanks for your advice. I guess I should apologize to you. I’m sorry for how I behaved. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a sour old woman.”
“Jesus, talking about old all of a sudden. But seriously, how old are you, anyway?”
“I’m thirty-one.”
“Wow, thirty-one.” Darcy contemplated the information for a second. When it sank in, he nodded. “Yeah, you really are old.”
Whitney nodded in agreement. “See, even you—”
“Ha-ha. I was only joking.” Darcy burst out laughing. “You don’t look old, Whitney.” His thumb started caressing her inner wrist, where her pulse beat erratically. “That is if you stop wearing that horrendous dress. And those Coke bottle glasses. You look better with contacts. Like right now. Or are you even wearing contacts?”
Darcy inched closer just to get a better look at her green eyes, but Whitney turned her head, gently brushing her nose across Darcy’s temple. A jolt of electricity charged through her again. She shivered, quickly casting her gaze away.
“Cold?” Darcy asked, drawing even closer.
“Yes,” she replied, refusing to look back at him. “I always thought I must have been born with reptile blood. No matter how many clothes I wear, I always find it cold.”
Whitney tried to chuckle, to find some fun in their current conversation, but her voice came out raspy. And the tension in her belly didn’t alleviate one bit.
Darcy didn’t say anything. He just brought his arms around and hugged her from behind, pulling her to him until she was seated on his lap. Like this, he rested his head on her shoulder, his nose at the nape of her neck. Softly, he whispered into her ear, “Maybe you just need the right man to warm you up. So if you’re cold, I’ll keep you warm.”
She didn’t know what to say. So she let the silence speak for her, listening to the wind howling outside, the beating of her heart, watching the crackling flames dance in front of
her, feeling that warmth engulfing her whole body in an intimate glow.
Warmth. Was that what she was searching for? With Johnathan, that warmth had dissipated into nothing but a cold wind. With Darcy’s arms around her, she felt… warm.
“Whitney?” Darcy asked, slowly tilting her chin to face him.
“Mmm?” Whitney gazed up into his hazel eyes, seeing a hooded mist clouding those irises again.
“You’re so warm.” And that was all he said before his mouth found hers.
Chapter 20
It was a cold, stormy night. Outside, the wind howled, shaking the leaves and trees. In the lone cabin, another turbulent storm took place. A storm of inner desire, a storm of need.
Whitney looked into Darcy’s misted eyes, filled with unshed passion and maybe something else…
But the need was there. At the brim and almost overflowing.
Darcy captured her hand and entwined it with his own as he bound her in a sweet embrace. He kissed her forehead and whispered huskily in her ear, “Can I keep you warm tonight, Whitney?”
Gone was her submissive PA. Tonight, it was the dominant Darcy again, the one that took charge and gave her pleasure.
But tonight, Darcy wasn’t like before. Tonight, he wanted to give Whitney the pleasure of warmth, pleasure she hadn’t experienced before.
Blast Johnathan. Blast all those bastards who’d kissed her or made love to her in the past. What he wanted was for his Whitney to experience what it was like to be loved in a way that made her feel special. And he wanted to give her this now, so much that his heart was bleeding.
His hands trembled when he started unzipping her jacket and removing clothing, revealing the special gift that was always wrapped in that ugly wrapping. And his eyes marveled at the God-gifted woman before him. Whitney, his boss, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever come across.
Encased in black, ugly clothing, she was a witch, out to destroy his heart and torment his days, but lying here naked on the floor of this lone cabin, she was like an angel descended from heaven.
But even if death were right in front of him, he would still go to heaven because, for his angel, he was willing to do anything, give anything, for another taste of her sweet nectar.