Razors Ice 04 - Hot Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  “Christ, Vi. Just watching you eat makes me hard.”

  She swallowed, licked her lips and opened her mouth for another bite. He fed her another forkful and enjoyed the tantalizing view.

  “You’re quite a catch,” she commented while chewing. “This is delicious.”

  That strange look crossed his face again before quickly disappearing without a trace. “Why’s that? Because I’m wealthy?”

  Violet scrunched up her face and shook her head. There was that bitter tone again. “No. Money has nothing to do with it. You’re a catch because you’re a fantastic cook and you’re spectacular in bed.”

  He smiled and the strange look disappeared. “Maybe I shouldn’t have raised the bar so high yesterday.”

  She leaned over and put her hand between his legs. “The bar seems perfectly high to me.”

  He put his plate aside and his mouth came down on hers. She tasted like tomato sauce and he flicked his tongue over her teeth. She slanted her mouth over his and their tongues mated in a sensual dance.

  Breathless, she pulled back and set her plate on the nightstand so that she could straddled him for the quickie he’d mentioned earlier.

  “Now, about that quickie…”

  * * *

  Three orgasms, a shower and a second plate of lasagna later, Violet collapsed on the bed next to Jace. Who knew the best weekend she’d ever had could be achieved by never leaving the bedroom?

  By Sunday night, she wanted more than anything to spend the night with Jace, but she didn’t want to make the mistake of getting stranded on the icy morning roads of August Lake twice.

  Chapter Eight

  Confessions

  The next week at Healing Touch, Patricia cornered Violet into the waiting area to share her vision of how the space should look when they finally moved to a bigger office. “We’ll need more plants,” she told Violet. “And everything should be decorated in soothing colors. The paint, the upholstery on the furniture. Very calm and neutral.”

  Violet nodded without really paying attention.

  Patricia’s motherly intuition kicked in and immediately alerted her to Violet’s lack of enthusiasm. “Is everything all right?” she asked, setting aside her concept of how their complete wellness clinic would look and feel.

  Violet nodded. Patricia sounded genuinely concerned and her stomach did a flip-flop as she swallowed. “Yeah. I’m okay.” Everything is fine and jim-dandy and I have a weight the size of a beluga whale resting on my shoulders.

  Patricia cocked her head to the side and eyed her friend up and down. “No, you’re not.” She pulled Violet into their tiny office and closed the door.

  Great, here it comes, Violet thought to herself. Another lecture about my work ethic and responsibility to my clients.

  “What’s going on with you?” Patricia stood with her hands on her hips in an I-won’t-take-no-for-an-answer pose.

  Violet sighed. She was lousy at keeping secrets, especially this one. It was just too juicy to hang on to. “I…uh,” she started to explain but clamped her mouth shut instead. “Pats, how do I tell you this?” she asked with a shake of her head. “I don’t think you’re going to take it well.” She knew she wasn’t going to take this well. It just might mean the end of their friendship and their partnership.

  Patricia let her hands fall to her sides and dropped the intimidating stare. “Listen, Violet,” she began gently. “I know something’s been going on with you, so just tell me what it is.”

  Was she really that transparent?

  “Do you promise not to freak out?” Violet pleaded.

  Patricia sighed and Violet knew it was an impossible request.

  “I promise,” she finally agreed through gritted teeth.

  “I…I’ve…Oh, God, Pats, I’ve been sleeping with Jace.”

  “Jason…Jason…Who the heck is Jason?” Patricia knew she’d heard that name somewhere, but she came into contact with a boatload of people every day in her personal and professional life. And what in tarnation did he have Violet so worked up about? “Jason who?” she asked perplexed.

  “Jace. Jace McQuaid.”

  Suddenly it hit Patricia like a ton of bricks and her jaw dropped to the floor. “The hockey player Jace? Our hockey player?”

  “Yes, the hockey player Jace. Who else do you think I’m talking about?”

  Patricia shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know exactly. I certainly didn’t think it was our biggest and most important client,” she exclaimed, her voice rising to an unflattering screech. Thank goodness their next appointment wasn’t due for another ten minutes or else he or she would be getting an earful from the waiting room.

  Violet winced. “Jeez, Pats. It’s not like I planned on this happening just to piss you off.”

  Patricia sighed and desperately tried to regain her composure. “I’m not pissed. I’m just slightly…disappointed that you would jeopardize our business. You know,” she said with a dramatic wave of her hand, “the one we’ve worked our asses off to build? Oh, and our reputation, too,” she added for good measure. “Just so you could have some meaningless fling with some random hockey player.”

  There were so many things wrong with that sentence that Violet didn’t know where to begin. She put a hand up in defense. “First of all, our business is not in jeopardy. Second, who said anything about it being meaningless? And third, you make it seem like I slept with him just because he’s an athlete. That’s definitely not true.”

  “Whatever,” Patricia mumbled. “It doesn’t matter.”

  A rush of anger heated Violet’s cheeks. “What? If you have something to say to me, then say it.”

  Patricia rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed it was meaningless because you have a fiancé!”

  “Jeez, Pats. I never even wanted to marry Phillip in the first place. He…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but hurried on to avoid any further explanation. “I knew you would have this reaction.”

  Patricia crossed her arms over her chest and Violet looked away. “Violet, please. I’m just trying to be your voice of reason. What about Phillip?” she hissed.

  The air deflated from Violet’s lungs. “Ugh. I forgot, okay?”

  Patricia's look told Violet she didn’t think it was okay at all. “You forgot about your fiancé?”

  “Yeah, kind of.” Violet squirmed under Patricia’s gaze. “Jace has that effect on me. He makes me forget about the trivial things. The boring things. And Phillip makes it even easier by never being around. He isn’t really even in the equation,” she argued. “Not really.”

  “Why not?” Patricia asked skeptically. “Did you break up?”

  “No,” Violet muttered.

  “Did he move out or something?”

  “Not technically. He’s been staying at his apartment downtown. He says it’s because he needs to be closer to the hospital, but...”

  Patricia’s features softened with concern. “You’re not even living together anymore? Why? Is he…you know…”

  “Cheating?” Violet suggested.

  Patricia nodded.

  “I don’t know for sure. It’s kind of hard to tell when he’s MIA all the time.”

  When she thought about it, Violet couldn’t imagine another woman putting up with Phillip’s idiosyncrasies and downright sourpuss personality. What woman would want to come in second behind a man’s career anyway? She sure as hell wasn’t seeing the upside of it. Phillip cheating? No, not with another woman. But with his work maybe.

  And then Violet remembered the credit card statement. “I know he hasn’t been completely honest with me, that’s for sure,” she admitted.

  “Well, think about the last time you saw him. Was he acting strange?”

  Violet gave her a look. “That was weeks ago and hello, this is Phillip we’re talking about. Besides the fact that he works with people’s urinary tracts for a living, he’s always a little on the strange side. Oh God, Pats, I
don’t know. The only time he calls is when he needs me on his arm for one of his hospital charity events.”

  And Violet didn’t call him. Ever. She needed to, though. They really needed to talk. The hard part was getting him to listen. Maybe she could pry his phone out of his grip and strap him down and force him to listen to her.

  “I can’t believe what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Patricia murmured. “Does Jace know about Phillip? Does Phillip know about Jace?”

  Violet waved her hands in front of her. “No, No. And stop saying Phillip’s name. No, they don’t know anything about each other.”

  Patricia shot her an “I can’t believe what you’ve done” look that said it all.

  “I haven’t told Jace because it just sounds so awful,” Violet explained as she paced the tiny room. Were the walls closing in or was that just her imagination? “Telling him would make me look like a horrible person. I don’t want Jace to think of me as a dishonest cheater.”

  “So you’re being dishonest with him, while you’re cheating with him?”

  Violet grimaced. “Right. That plan worked out swell, didn’t it?” She gave up pacing and sunk into a nearby chair. “I don’t know what came over me, Pats. I flushed all my professional rules down the drain and followed what my hormonal body was telling me. Screaming at me. I’ve never been unprofessional with a client in my life. You know that. I take my work very seriously. But with Jace everything is different.”

  “So it’s that good?” Patricia’s look of shock turned into curiosity. “The sex,” she whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the room. “I mean you’ve had a glow about you for the past couple of weeks, so it must be pretty good.”

  “It’s more than good,” Violet answered on a sigh. “It’s ah-mazingly good, Pats.”

  Patricia grinned and then the look of shock returned. She was the mother of a small boy and had no business fantasizing about the sexual adeptness of a conditioned athlete.

  “I’ve never felt such a magnetic pull to someone before,” Violet elaborated. “It’s as if there’s this invisible bungee cord pulling me towards him. Have you ever had sex so mind blowing that you forgot where you were?”

  Patricia averted her eyes and gave the question some thought. “Well, John and I used to get pretty hot and heavy back in the day, but I always knew what my coordinates were.” She tapped her finger on her bottom lip. “That does sound pretty intense.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. One look from Jace and the next thing I know, I’m flat on my back or on all fours…or…well, you get the picture.”

  Patricia’s eyes widened and she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “Yeah, you’ve painted quite a masterpiece, Violet.” She lowered her voice and added, “I wonder if we have any more hockey players coming in for appointments.”

  Violet recognized Patricia’s attempt at humor and laughed. It didn’t take long before they were both laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  Chapter Nine

  Flowers and Croissants

  When she got up out of bed and went into the kitchen for coffee, Violet was surprised to find Phillip at the table. So surprised that, if she’d been holding anything, it would have dropped and shattered on the floor. Luckily, the only thing she’d been holding was her breath.

  She skidded to a halt and nearly stubbed her big toe on the wood floor. Could he tell that she’d been unfaithful? Could he read her mind and see all of the scandalous moments she’d shared with Jace?

  “I brought croissants,” he announced proudly and held up a white pastry bag.

  Fantastic, she thought to herself. French pastries for breakfast. All is forgiven. Let’s all make up and live happily ever after.

  If Phillip was looking for a Brownie badge, he was about to be severely disappointed.

  Violet frowned and actually felt her lip curl up in disgust. “But I don’t like croissants.”

  If Phillip thought that croissants were all it would take to get him out of this jam, then he had another thing coming. Oooh, speaking of jam, that would help make those croissants palatable. Or, better yet, forget the croissants all together. A real breakfast consisted of fluffy pancakes smothered in butter and maple syrup or an omelet stuffed with…

  Violet’s stomach growled as she padded toward the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  Phillip set the bag on the table. “I wasn’t aware you didn’t like croissants.”

  She sighed and cupped her hands around the mug of steaming coffee. “You’d think that after all these years, you might have picked up on my food preferences, Phillip.”

  His stiff posture slouched ever so slightly. “You’re right. That is something I should know about you. I apologize.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked and took a sip of her coffee. No matter how much sugar she added, everything always tasted bitter when he was around. Violet had jumped into the fire with Jace, survived, and now everything was ice cold in comparison.

  The abrupt question caught him off guard and she didn’t give him the chance to answer it anyway. “How was Sacramento?” she asked, setting the mug down on the counter. Spilling scalding hot coffee on herself wouldn’t do her confrontation any favors. “Or was it San Francisco? You know how easily I mix up the two.”

  “Fine,” he answered, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. “The details would probably bore you.”

  “Oh, would they?” she spat. In frustration, she tossed her arms in the air and her robe fell open.

  “You’re robe is unfastened,” Phillip pointed it out to her and looked away.

  Violet cinched the terry cloth tight, digging her nails into the plush fabric. “Well, I’m sorry if my body repulses you that much.”

  The color drained from his pointy face, leaving him more pale than usual. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. “It is inappropriate at the breakfast table.”

  “Right. And when is an appropriate time for sex, Phillip? Huh?” Her chest heaved and her blood started to boil.

  She should have apologized for lashing out at him, but she didn’t. In fact, she wanted to argue with him. She wanted an all-out brawl. A war of words, a passionate argument that ended with sweaty make-up sex. Not that she even wanted to have sex with him. But she wouldn’t get passion with Phillip. Not now. Not ever.

  Phillip didn’t even bat an eyelash. He just rose from the table and said, “I have to get to the office,” and walked away. Then all of a sudden, he spun back around to face her. “How has your father been feeling?” he asked, his voice bitter and tight with tension.

  At the mention of her father, all fight disappeared from Violet’s body and left her feeling defeated. It was the one subject that could stab her in the heart like a knife.

  “He’s fine,” she mumbled.

  “We made an agreement,” Phillip reminded her, his bony finger jabbing into the air. “You aren’t planning on going back on your word, are you?”

  He looked as cold and calculating as ever. But there was something else in his eyes. Something tired and defeated. Exhaustion, like he was tired of fighting. What was he fighting so hard for? Why was he hanging on to their relationship so tightly? Violet could practically see his fingers clutching wildly to their engagement as if it might suddenly rip out from under his feet.

  “No, I won’t go back on my word. But I still want to talk about our engagement.”

  “We made a deal, Violet. There’s nothing to discuss.”

  “But I—”

  Phillip glanced at his phone, the conversation already over according to him. “I have to go.” He turned and reached for the door knob.

  “Of course you do,” she told his back.

  When the front door slammed shut, she let out a strangled sound of frustration, swung out her arms in anger and knocked the bag of croissants onto the floor.

  * * *

  Violet had just finished her appointment with Mr. Molinari—who still had yet to go to a
waxer—when a young deliveryman walked into Healing Touch carrying a giant bouquet of colorful flowers. The arrangement was bursting with the bold reds, bright yellows and vibrant pinks of Gerbera daisies.

  Maybe Patricia’s ex-husband, John, had come to his senses and was trying to woo her back. Violet had to admit it was a nice touch. The flowers were gorgeous.

  “I have a delivery for James.” The teenager looked down and checked the name on his clipboard. “James Violet.”

  Violet chuckled. “I’m Violet.”

  The teenager looked confused and checked his paperwork again. “They’re for a James comma Violet.”

  “That’s me,” she said again. “I’m Violet James. I dropped the comma years ago,” she joked.

  “Whatever,” the teenager mumbled and handed her the bouquet. “Have a nice day.”

  “Thanks.” Violet took the flowers, set them on the counter next to Patricia’s lucky bamboo plant and opened the card. Inside, there was no sentiment; the card was simply signed “JM.”

  Wow, Jace had sent her flowers. What had compelled him to do such a wonderful thing? She smiled and tucked the card into her pocket.

  What started out as a whirlwind of passion turned into a cabin rendezvous several times a week. It wasn’t just sex, although there was a lot of it. On the sofa, in front of the fireplace, in the shower… But that wasn’t all it was. Violet genuinely liked being around Jace. He was funny and charming and she could see herself wanting to hang out with him even if sex wasn’t on the menu.

  The more feelings Violet developed for Jace, the more she analyzed her relationship with Phillip. Did she really love Phillip? That was the million dollar question. The first answer that came to mind was a solid no. Had she ever loved him? She didn’t think so. Now that she knew how love could actually feel, she could answer that question the same way as the first. No. Violet James did not love Dr. Phillip Krandall. That much was for certain. Now, what was she supposed to do about it?

  Patricia walked in from the office and gripped the front desk. Her face was whiter than the snow covering Mt. August. She was so shaken up that she didn’t even notice the bouquet of flowers.