Falling for His Boss

by Rosie Praks

  “You sure lightened it all right. I’m in flames right now.”

  And she gave in to her flammable emotions, picking up a big handful of snow and smashing it into his face.

  “Here, eat this.” She laughed evilly, exhilaration rushing through her body.

  “Ahh, you evil witch,” Darcy growled.

  He exacted his own revenge, piling his own snowball and throwing it at her. It landed perfectly in her face and dripped down her jacket.

  “Ha-ha-ha,” Darcy chuckled, belly up toward the sky, head falling backward. “You look like a snowman. Or maybe I should call you Snow White. Actually, Snow Witch instead.” Digesting the meaning of his own idiotic joke, Darcy laughed out loud again.

  “Darcy, you idiot. My jacket. It’s all ruined. I’m going to kill you,” Whitney threatened, charging head first into him.

  “Don’t run with that lame ankle. You might hurt yourself more.” Darcy dodged and escaped in time, laughing all the way.

  “Just you watch. I’m going to throw snowballs at you until I smash in your face,” Whitney shouted, then started pounding out three snowballs at a time, managing to strike the side of his leg.

  “Ah, you missed my face. Come on. You gotta have better aim than that.” He danced about like a monkey on skates, urging her on, laughing again at her pathetic throws. “Come on, then. Come on. I’m right here. If you fail again, I’m going to attack you.”

  “With what?” Whitney shouted, face all red with exhilaration.

  “My kisses.”

  Whitney clicked her tongue and shook her head, adrenaline rushing through her. “No, you will not. I’m going to hit you first. Just you watch.”

  But after five more consecutive throws, she didn’t hit him once. Whitney was about to give up and jump straight at him when Darcy launched himself at her first. “Cannonball incoming!”

  “Ahh!” Whitney flapped her mouth open.

  And then—

  Thump!

  Darcy landed straight on top of her, smacking on her lips. Both were in shock. Neither moved. They could only blink at the turn of events.

  Slowly, Darcy pulled back, hovering just above her. He brought his fingers up and slowly parted her hair, lightly caressing her cheeks. As if the magic of last night were still in the air, he slowly descended his lips toward Whitney’s and spoke softly. “I’m here to claim my prize.” And then he sealed their lips with a kiss. Ever so slowly, Whitney mimicked the action.

  And they kissed, forgetting they were in each other’s arms in the middle of a snow fight. They kissed so long that to them, time no longer existed. Each kiss was an excitement of its own. Each touch was an experience of its own. They wanted more. Needed more. Just like last night. So they kissed more, sought more, craving more skin on skin, lips on lips, until the need to breathe became unbearable and they separated.

  Whitney’s mind was in a blender. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening anymore. She thought last night was just a spell that had been cast due to their circumstances. But even when morning had ascended, she still felt that strong attraction toward Darcy.

  “You kissed me?” she asked first when her senses came back to her.

  “Yep.” Darcy smirked, kissing her gently again, molding his lips to hers. And then they kissed again, for a long time.

  After a while, Whitney drew her lips away and puffed out, turning away from Darcy’s piercing eyes. “You really are a Casanova.” She giggled, feeling somewhat happy all of a sudden.

  “Yep.” Darcy pinched her chin to tilt her face back toward him. “But you’ve got to admit it was fun, wasn’t it?” He smiled foolishly, breath heaving with exertion, fingers running along her collarbone. “Rolling down the hill like Jack and Jill. You resting in my arms all through last night. Playing huntsman and Snow White a moment ago. And now this. Kissing you. In broad daylight.”

  “Oh, Darcy.” Whitney sighed tiredly but happily. A strange tingling and niggling sensation ran up her spine. “I’m so wet right now.”

  “Oh, you make it sound so erotic. You’re not referring to—”

  “Get that dirty thought out of your mind right now, Darcy.” She shoved his face away. “I’m referring to my clothes. They’re all wet. Because of you.”

  “Not about the kiss, then?” he teased, bringing his face back a few inches from hers, not forgetting to rub the pad of his finger on her lips.

  “No!” Whitney shoved his hand away.

  “Wow, that reply was too blunt.” Darcy looked wounded. But only for a second. He smiled sheepishly again. “Well, I guess there’s only one way to redeem myself.”

  “And what is that?” Whitney asked, a warm glow radiating from her.

  “To kiss you again. And make love to you when we get back to the resort.” Darcy pinched her nose, teasing her.

  “You can’t.” Whitney shoved his hand off again and giggled.

  “Oh, yes, I can.” And he trapped her in place, kissing her cheeks and tickling her palms.

  Whitney laughed, snorting. She rolled under him, trying to get away. But he rolled after. On and on in the snow until they stopped. They locked eyes again. Then a joyous laugh burst forth from their mouths. As fast as the laughter came, it died down again. And Darcy turned serious.

  “Whitney, I want to tell you something.” He gazed into her eyes, fire lighting inside them again.

  “What is it?” she murmured quietly, heart thumping erratically.

  “Whitney… I…”

  Darcy couldn’t speak. He was the type of man who spoke a mile a minute, but when it came to confessing this feeling inside his heart, he was like a broken record, unable to proceed, only repeating the same words. “Whitney… I…”

  “What is it, Darcy?” The trepidation was killing her. What was he trying to say? She swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

  Darcy also swallowed to appease his dry throat. He gathered his will again. And this time, he knew he’d be able to say it. “Whitney, I don’t know when it happened, but I think I might have—”

  “Darcy, Whitney, there you are!” A sudden roguish shout disrupted their peace, and the spell broke.

  Darcy cursed silently. Just when he was about to confess, too.

  Darcy stood, helping Whitney along the way. They both saw Max and Anton waving at them from some distance.

  Whitney smiled, her eyes glittering with happiness. She turned to Darcy and said, “They found us.”

  Darcy watched Whitney galloping off to Max, then jumping into the boy’s arms. And here he’d thought they didn’t get along.

  Darcy mourned his lost opportunity. It was because of Max, that little shit! But it’s okay, he told himself. When he got back to the resort, he’d tell her. He’d find the answer to that brewing question burning in his mind.

  What is Whitney to me?

  But one thing he knew for sure was their relationship was no longer boss and subordinate.

  Darcy quicken his pace as he raced to catch up to Whitney, his heart glowing in delight. Soon he’d get to confess to her because he finally knew the answer to that question.

  Chapter 22

  Today was Clarice’s wedding day. And it had been more than twenty-four hours since she’d last seen Darcy. The last time she saw or spoke to him face to face was when they got separated when Max and Anton saw them kissing each other in the snow.

  Sheer embarrassment was the only emotion running through her mind then. She’d wanted to hide in the pile of white snow just so her red cheeks could return to normal again. Heck, she’d wanted to make a run for it to the resort, but because it was so far away, she had to endure that embarrassment for the rest of the journey. And now, more than twenty-four hours had passed, and she still hadn’t seen Darcy.

  How could she face him after that night? All right, the first time was under the toxic influence of madness, induced by their own egos. Both had wanted to outwit the other then. But this time, she’d genuinely wanted Darcy.

  But that though
t still boggled her mind. Darcy was her PA. He worked under her. She was his boss. How would their relationship fare when they returned to work?

  Oh, the more she thought about this, the closer her head came to exploding.

  Whitney glanced to her left. She saw Elise putting flowers in Clarice’s hair. The makeup artist was busy applying the finishing touches to Clarice’s face.

  She marveled at her friend in the white dress. Clarice was beautiful. She was very grateful to have such a great and beautiful friend. And to see her happy like this, her heart also swelled with happiness.

  But what about her? Would her day ever come? Or would she be a spinster forever?

  Whitney berated herself. Why was she thinking about that now? Wasn’t it she who declared she wanted to stay a spinster forever because Johnathan had broPreston her heart. Just because a few special nights with Darcy had her heart trembling, did she really want a ring on her finger? She’d gone nuts. That was what’d happened.

  Whitney sighed, got up, and shoved that thought down the drain. Today was about Clarice. Not her.

  Standing behind Clarice, Whitney looked at herself and her two best friends in the mirror. Elise was the white angel, dressed in the Grecian gown with her blond, curly hair to the side. Clarice was an Asian princess.

  And she? What was she? Yes, she wore the same gown as Elise, but everything just looked wrong.

  Pale skin. Black hair. That looked so wrong somehow.

  Will Darcy think I look beautiful?

  “Whitney?” Clarice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Mmm?” Her mind scattered, and she glanced to her friend.

  “You look worried. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just so happy for you. You and Hunter.”

  “Well, I am happy.” Clarice couldn’t stop the smile from dominating her face. “But, Whitney, your time will come. I know it.”

  Clarice grasped her hand. She forced a smile. Then cursed at herself. What was she thinking? Why must she force her own smile? This was Clarice’s wedding day. She was happy for her friend.

  “I’m really happy for you, Clarice,” she added.

  “I know. I can see it in your eyes.” Clarice went to grasp her other friend’s hand, too. “And you, too, Elise. Your day will come.”

  Elise smiled and shook her head, her eyes reminiscent of the past again. “Even if my day doesn’t come, I’m still happy. I wish you all the best for the future. May both of you cherish all the memories you have.”

  “You’re so sentimental, Elise.” Clarice laughed.

  “Stop laughing. Now it’s my turn. Clarice, may you both love each other, take care of each other, and live together until your ripe old age.”

  “Thanks, guys. That was so sweet,” Clarice said, teary.

  The three friends held each other’s hands. And pressed their forehead together like they used to when they were younger.

  Whitney clasped Clarice’s hand, not forgetting to impart her very important message. “You know if Hunter is unfaithful, just tell me. I’ll be the one to rip his balls off.”

  Clarice burst out laughing. “Yes, Whitney, I’ll be sure to tell you if anything like that ever happens. But don’t worry. I’ll keep him under control.”

  Suddenly, a knock at the door alerted them, breaking the trio apart. Whitney decided to be the one to open the door. If it was Hunter, she wanted to make sure he didn’t sneak a peek at his bride, plus, give him a good dose of marriage advice before taking her friend’s hand.

  Whitney tore open the door and was about to prepare her speech to the bridegroom, but in front of her was none other than Darcy, the man she been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours.

  Her lips ran dry. And her heart thumped in an odd crescendo when her eyes took in Darcy dressed in a black tux, hair combed back, face cleanly shaved. The cologne he wore intoxicate her senses.

  Whitney closed her eyes and breathed in his scent for a full second, thinking this was a mirage created by her imagination. When she opened her eyes again, Darcy was standing in front of her, grinning in his dorky way.

  “Whitney,” Darcy greeted.

  “Darcy,” Whitney mouthed, unsure why he was here in the bridal suite.

  They smiled at each other. Then they tried for a second time, hoping this time their conversation would flow.

  “Whitney.”

  “Darcy.”

  They laughed simultaneously. It didn’t work.

  “Darcy,” Whitney spoke, taking charge. “I would like to invite you inside, but Clarice is getting ready. What do you need?”

  “Oh, I… um…” Darcy wanted to say more, to explain why he was here, as a messenger from Hunter, but he couldn’t find the right words. His voice was clogged in his throat. If Whitney was a serene being while standing amongst the backdrop of the snowy mountain, then tonight, she was the goddess of beauty. Her black hair was done in a chignon style with a few loose tendrils decorating her long, oval face. The white material only made her look more surreal.

  Darcy gulped down his nerves and spoke again. “Hunter… umm… Hunter wanted me to give a message to Clarice.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll just get Clarice for you, then,” Whitney quickly said, closing the door quietly behind her.

  Whitney braced herself against it. She didn’t know if she could stand after seeing Darcy looking this handsome. Her heart was about to burst from her chest. She breathed in slowly just to calm down a bit, then walked to deliver his message.

  “Clarice. Darcy wants to talk to you. He has a message from Hunter.”

  Clarice was still busy placing flowers in her hair with the help of Elise. She turned to Whitney and said, “Could you take the message for me? I can’t move from this spot.”

  “But…”

  “Please, Whitney.”

  “I can take the message if you’re not available, Clarice,” Elise chimed in.

  “No.” Clarice rejected the offer, catching Elise’s hand. “You’re to help me here. Whitney is free. Please get my message, Whitney.”

  Whitney couldn’t do anything. It was true she was the only one who didn’t have a lot on her hands. Everyone around her was in a chaotic mess. Whitney sighed and walked back to the door. She opened it and took in the sight of Darcy’s handsome features once again. And of course, once again, her legs almost gave way.

  “Clarice said I can take the message,” she managed.

  “Oh… um… okay,” Darcy stammered, looked back, then spoke again. “You look beautiful.” His eyes focused only on her. And when he realized his mistake, he added, “Oh, I mean, that’s from Hunter to Clarice. Could you tell that to Clarice?”

  “Sure. Um…” Whitney shifted her gaze to Clarice, confused with their conversation. But she passed the message on anyway. She shouted to her friend, “Clarice, Hunter said you look beautiful.”

  Clarice smiled, shouting back at Whitney. “Thanks, Whitney. Tell him I think he looks hot, too, even though I haven’t seen him yet.”

  “You look hot, too. I… I mean, Clarice said that. To Hunter.” Whitney could feel her cheeks growing hot. Oh, the embarrassment. How could she mistaPrestonly say that to Darcy?

  “Oh… all right.” Darcy nodded, unsure what to do now that Hunter’s message had been passed.

  “Is there anything else?” Whitney asked when Darcy didn’t move.

  “Yes. Um… he said… I don’t regret sleeping with you.”

  “Me, too,” Whitney said too fast.

  “And I’m glad we got to know each other better. Even though we didn’t get along in the beginning.”

  “Yes. Me, too.” That answer was also too quick.

  “Even when you knew I was a Casanova, you still spent time with me. I enjoyed that. A lot.”

  “Me, too.” Oh God, were they passing the message to their friends or were they having their own private conversation? The line had really blurred this time.

  “So… do you love me?”

  Whitney gulp
ed. That question. It sounded as if it were being directed at her.

  “I… I…” Whitney worried her bottom lip again, then turned to Clarice and asked, “Clarice, Hunter asked if you love him.”

  “I do. I do. Tell him I do,” Clarice shouted from across the room, her voice rocketing against the wall. That answered her question.

  Whitney turned back to Darcy and swallowed, her nerves lighting up all her synapses. Slowly, she lifted her head and locked eyes with him.

  “I do.”

  “Oh… okay.” Darcy smiled, his lips spreading so wide it almost split his face in half. He twisted on his heel and almost danced in that spot. Somehow, he couldn’t contain his happiness. “I’ll tell Hunter, then. I’ll definitely tell Hunter, then. I’m sure he’ll be happy. Very happy. So… I’ll see you in church, then, Whitney.”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then… bye for now, Whitney.” And Darcy turned on his heel and skipped back to the groom’s suite.

  Whitney couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on her face either. She knew they were passing the conversation on to their friends, but it felt as if they’d spoPreston their true feelings to each other. And she was happy. Very happy. Her life might be warm again soon. Oh, she couldn’t wait.

  Was this lighthearted feeling called love? Because it felt really nice.

  Chapter 23

  It was a winter wonderland, the wedding of the century. White orchids decorated the center aisle of the church. Exotic flowers from Elise’s florist were hung from various corners. Whitney was nervous. But no more than Clarice.

  Her friend’s dream was about to come true. And she wanted to be there for her, hold her train, and walk with her down that aisle. So she took her friend’s hand, calming Clarice’s nerves.

  “Are you ready? Ready to live the life of your dreams?”

  “Yes.” Clarice smiled, soft tears sliding down her face.

  “Oh God, dear, why are you crying? It’s your big day.” Whitney hugged her best friend.

  “Clarice.” Elise took their friend’s hands into hers. “Why are you crying?”