A Touch of Spring Read online

  “Hush, they’re both fine.”

  “But how could I have forgotten…” She faltered when she saw the bright gleam of tears in his eyes. Andy McTavish was crying.

  “When I heard you were caught up in the avalanche, I thought I’d lost you. I got to the site, but they told me that they’d already taken people to the hospital and that two skiers were dead.”

  “I rang everyone I could think of, trying to get information. You have no idea what state I was in by the time I found you. And then you didn’t remember me.”

  Roz scrambled onto his lap and captured his face between her hands. His tanned cheeks were cold. The urge to rip every stitch of clothing from him so that she could touch his bare skin was overwhelming. Instead, she settled for a hungry, lingering kiss.

  Andy pushed her away gently. “Naughty Mrs. McTavish. Not here. We have a ways to go yet.”

  “Gornergrat railway,” he told the driver.

  On the way, Roz nibbled her way through the supply of energy bars he always kept in his pockets, but she was still starving and when they joined a group of eager hikers at Riffelberg.

  Bloody man of mystery. Andy had refused to tell her where they were going and had extracted a promise that she wouldn’t ask any of the others. A hike? They were on a very belated honeymoon and he wanted to take her hiking? But when she scowled at him, Andy just laughed.

  He adjusted his backpack and handed her a pair of ski-poles to help her on her way.

  “You’ll love it,” Andy said with a grin. “Come on, it’s only ten minutes from here.”

  They followed the group through the crisp white snow. The air was clean and cold and despite her craving for a little luxury, Roz began to cheer up a little. They were together. Nothing else mattered.

  Up ahead, she heard a woman’s delighted laughter, and the enticing aroma of mulled wine drifting on the icy air made her mouth water.

  “Welcome, everyone.”

  The stark whiteness of the ice village contrasted with the slate-grey mountain peak in the distance. A burst of laughter escaped her. Only Andy would remember that she had a childhood fantasy about being a snow angel. “You got me an igloo?”

  A blond man smiled as he approached them. “Your accommodation is this way.”

  The entrance was set into a bank of hard-packed snow. Inside was a series of rooms that Roz itched to explore. The interior was covered in ice carvings; birds, fish, mountains and tiny villages. In the centre of one room, a platform of ice was covered with sheepskins, furs and sleeping bags. The wall behind was decorated with the giant wings of an eagle.

  “Food first,” Andy announced.

  On a covered tray, a selection of cured meat, bread cubes and salad leaves awaited and a pot of fondue bubbled. Roz devoured it eagerly and afterwards lay back on the sheepskin rugs to stare at the round ceiling. The room was cold but not freezing and with food inside her she was beautifully warm. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” she murmured happily.

  “You haven’t seen the best bit yet.” Andy pulled her to her feet and down a flight of stairs.

  Wisps of steam escaped from a bubbling whirlpool. In one corner, a bottle of champagne sat in a wooden bucket, flanked by two glasses. He had thought of everything.

  “Do you need help getting out of those clothes?”

  Roz flexed her fingers. The movement was a little easier and the warm water would probably help. “I can manage. Why don’t you go first?”

  Without taking his eyes from hers, Andy shed his clothing quickly. Roz wanted to whistle. How could one man be so edible? He stepped into the warm water.

  Andy disappeared beneath the surface and rose again, shaking the water from his hair before turning his attention to her. “Is there a problem, Mrs. McTavish?”

  “No. I was just admiring the view of your ass.”

  Roz pinned her hair into a neat twist. She fumbled with the zips and fastenings on her clothes before laying them on top of his. She followed Andy into the pool and lowered herself quickly, keeping her head above water to keep her hair dry.

  “Jesus.” Andy brushed a stray curl away from her face, uncovering the bruises on her cheekbone and temple. He tilted her head, his touch infinitely gentle. “Gorev?”

  Roz nodded. She didn’t want to think about that now. Not when she had found Andy again.

  His mouth formed a thin hard line. “Stand up. I want to see the rest.”

  “It’s bloody freezing,” she protested. But his uncompromising expression drove her to her feet. Roz shivered as he examined her for damage, checking her arms and legs for bruises. “I will kill him. I will break every bone in his body.”

  She was damned if she would allow Gorev to intrude on their honeymoon. He had hurt her enough. “You can do that tomorrow. Tonight, you get to kiss me better.”

  The anger faded from Andy’s face to be replaced with something else. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a warm cocoon of male flesh and bubbling water. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Roz closed her eyes, listening to the slow thud of his heartbeat against her ear. She was home.

  “No sleeping yet. I have plans for you tonight.”

  Roz sat up. Andy’s ‘plans’ were usually inventive and deliciously naughty. She watched as he opened the champagne and poured two glasses.

  “It’s a little bit late, but happy honeymoon.”

  The bubbles tickled her nose and the contrast between cold air and warm water made her hum with pleasure. She closed her eyes. As honeymoons went, this was pretty perfect, except that it had been sexless. There was one way to remedy that. Setting her glass down on the tray, she moved slowly through the water, hunting her prey.

  Andy backed away until he hit the edge of the pool. “I do believe you’ve cornered me.”

  Roz slid her palms over his chest. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was all hers. She cupped his face in her hands and teased him with a lingering kiss. Andy’s searching hands explored every inch of her skin. He pinched her aching nipples until she squirmed, before travelling south to squeeze the rounded globes of her ass and draw her flush against him.

  Fire and ice. The elemental force of desire. She felt it every time she was with Andy and could never imagine being with anyone else. His hard erection pressed against her belly and his mouth closed over hers in a hard demanding kiss that took her breath away.

  When they drew apart, they were both shaking and it wasn’t from the cold. “Bed. Before we freeze.”

  They scrambled out of the pool and dried off quickly. “Race you,” she said.

  Roz fled up the steps and climbed into her sleeping bag and lay giggling on the pile of sheepskin rugs. Despite the cold, it was cosy.

  Andy tugged at the edge of her bag. “Get out of there. I’m going to zip them together.”

  Within minutes, he had extinguished most of the lamps and they were tucked up side by side, staring at the ice carvings. Outside, the wind whistled around the snowy slopes. It was like being in another world, another time. There was nothing but her and the man lying beside her. It was wild, primitive and strangely erotic.

  She wiggled against Andy, needing to be skin to skin with him.

  His first kiss was gentle, a slow tentative exploration. She flicked her tongue lazily against his and was rewarded with a groan. Greedily, she deepened the kiss, answering his hunger with her own. He stoked her back and thighs, learning her again. It felt as if they had been apart for months rather than nights. “I missed you, even when I couldn’t remember who you were.”

  Andy’s low laugh echoed around the room. “I did my best to remind you. Several times. But I’m not sure if I approve of you making out with a man you didn’t know.”

  Roz pinched Andy hard and he yelped.

  His eyes narrowed, promising retribution. “Temper, temper, Mrs McTavish. I think you need a reminder about who’s in charge.”

  She put her hand on his chest, holding him. “What was all that Frau Campbell stuff ab
out? You have no idea how much I worried about that.”

  He shrugged. “Haven’t you noticed how difficult the Swiss find it to say McTavish? They started called us Herr and Frau Campbell in the hotel because they could pronounce it.”

  Andy rolled, pinning her beneath him and he insinuated his leg between her thighs, holding them apart. Bracing his weight on one arm, he trailed a path between her breasts with his index finger and traced slow circles around her abdomen.

  Desire unfurled like a sail, swelling until it reached every nerve ending. Why had he stopped? Roz arched her hips, seeking more of those tantalising touches. She murmured impatiently.

  The infuriating circling of his fingertips continued, moving closer to her aching core, but not close enough.

  “Are you wet for me?” he whispered.

  Andy knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to drive her to distraction. Turn her into a mindless writhing thing. Despite the flood of sensation, Roz forced herself to lie still. “Why don’t you find out?”

  The suddenness of his invasion made her gasp. Oh God, that felt so good. The slow, pumping finger was joined by a second one. She arched against him, seeking more pressure but he turned his attention to her clit. The sensual torture continued, dragging her close to the edge, but never enough to let her fly. Her soft moans echoed around the icy chamber. She tossed her head from side to side, her face brushing against the fur beneath her. Andy was going to kill her.

  If she didn’t kill him first.

  Taking him by surprise, she grasped a handful of his hair, raised her face to his and nipped him on the mouth. “Now, God damn you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Andy nudged her thighs further apart and thrust home.

  She felt stuffed, impaled by him. How could she have waited this long to have this? Within the confines of the sleeping bag, Roz locked her thighs around his, holding him in place. His chest moved slickly against hers, the soft hair brushing against her nipples. She raked her nails along his back, pleased when he groaned. Roz wanted to torture him as much as he had tortured her.

  Her every nerve ending tingled. She shut her eyes against the coming storm. Her orgasm rolled out of nowhere and she rode the tide of sensation, crying out his name. Andy. Andy. Andy. He powered into her, slamming his flesh into hers. The tension in his jaw told her that he was close. His words were lost as he thrust home one final time and buried his face in her hair.

  They lay in a shuddering tangle of sweating flesh and mingled breath. Roz held him tight, waiting for her racing heart to return to normal. She stroked his back, soothing the marks she had made, smiling when he shuddered with tiny aftershocks. They were still joined together when she drifted off to sleep.

  Epilogue

  Next morning, fed, showered, dressed in fresh clean clothes and feeling great, Roz couldn’t keep the smile off her face. That had been the most amazing night.

  Maybe she should bump her head and lose her memory more often. The tingly impression of Andy as a sexy stranger, combined with the security of knowing he was her beloved husband, had been mind-blowing. Every touch had been at once familiar and the stuff of fantasy.

  Even now, watching Andy as he took a sip of his hot chocolate, she had to pinch herself to believe that she was really married to him. She had a man who could look sexy with a blob of whipped cream on his nose.

  She took a mouthful of her own chocolate, and sat on the wooden bench which allowed her a panoramic view of the mountains and the town. They had been skiing on the nursery slopes all morning, doing beginner exercises, until he were sure she was up to anything more.

  “So how are you feeling?” Andy asked.

  Roz wiggled her hands. Apart from the livid bruising on her wrists, they were back to normal. “Good. I think I'm ready for something a bit more challenging.”

  His eyes lit up. Typical Andy, no matter how carefully he skied with her, he loved speed. “How about we get the Klein-Matterhorn lift?”

  She shuddered at the thought of getting back onto that lift.

  “And ski down the mountain to Cervinia for some real Italian pizza for lunch?”

  That stopped her. “Real Italian?”

  “Sure. You can ski from the Klein-Matterhorn into Cervinia in Italy. It's all on the same ski pass. Ski there for the afternoon in the sun, and get a cable car back up and ski home.”

  “That sounds like fun.” She sipped her hot chocolate, enjoying its warmth in the cool air. She couldn't resist licking the blob of cream off Andy's nose, and he kissed her soundly.

  She was slightly breathless when she sat back down again, and he had a predatory gleam in his eyes. “So have you any idea what happened to the painting?” She asked to distract him.

  He shrugged. “Not a one. But they'll find it. The police are searching everyone before they let them leave Zermatt. Even the heliport has been closed down.”

  “I suppose. But I can't understand why Gorev was so convinced I had it.” There was something nagging her. “He knew Frida had stolen it. Why were they after me?”

  “Maybe your reputation preceded you?” Andy stood up and stretched, the movement displaying his lithe strength in a way that dried her mouth. God, he was magnificent.

  “Come on; time to ski if we’re going to be in Italy in time for lunch.”

  He fastened his jacket and then did the same for her. She was perfectly capable of zipping up her own jacket, but enjoyed having him fuss over her. Especially when he kissed her as he did it.

  Roz was considering the prospect of sex in the snow when he pulled her helmet onto her head and stood back. He stepped into his skis and watched critically while she did the same. He handed her a pair of ski poles. “You can have these back, it's steep at the top of the run. You’ll need them.”

  Roz took them and moved off. Then she stopped. Something was wrong. “These aren’t my poles.”

  “Of course they are.”

  She shook her head. “These ones are longer and heavier than mine.”

  “You've been using them for the last couple of days.”

  She examined the poles. They were black like hers, but at least 10cm longer, and a lot heavier. She hadn't really noticed when she was slogging on foot through fresh snow, but on the groomed pistes of the Schwartzsee, the difference was impossible to miss.

  “They're not mine. I must have picked up someone else's poles.”

  She shook them. “They're unbalanced too. One is heavier than the other.”

  “I wonder if they’re the kind that you can fill with alcohol. Let me have a look at them.” Andy took them from her.

  He examined the heavier one, and the top of the pole popped off. He sniffed. “Damn it, no booze.”

  He turned it up, and something slid out. It was a tightly rolled piece of cloth.

  “Oh god!” Roz knew exactly what it was. With shaking hands, she unrolled it, and saw a vase of scarlet poppies, mesmerising in their beauty. “I did have it all the time.”

  “Your poles must have gotten mixed up in the avalanche. Or at the hospital.” Andy stared at the million dollar painting. She could see him working it out.

  “Frida admitted stealing the painting. They must have been planning to ski into Cervina with it and get away through Italy, but their courier got caught in the avalanche.”

  Roz concentrated, trying to remember the accident. “I thought he was a photographer. He was taking photos of the mountain.”

  “Or using a telephoto lens to check for pursuit.”

  Duh! So obvious when he pointed it out.

  She looked at him through her eyelashes, in a way she knew he couldn't resist. “Andy, could we keep it? No one knows that we’ve found it and it would look amazing over the fireplace in Lough Darra.”

  He snorted. “Your criminal background is showing. You know we have to give it back.”

  She sighed. It has been worth a try. “Oh, very well. But let’s wait until tomorrow. First, I want the most expensive pizza on the menu. And champagne.
And a night to remember.”

  He grinned, a sensual promise that make her breath catch. “Whatever my lady desires.”

  He kissed her. “Now, let's ski.”

  “Together.” And she kissed him back.

  THE END

  You can read more about Andy and Roz in The Pleasures of Spring

  Available now in paperback and e-book

  About Evie Hunter

  Evie Hunter is actually two authors, Caroline McCall and Eileen Gormley, who met at a creative writing workshop in Dublin in 2010. Eileen adores Regency romance while Caroline loves to write sexy sci-fi and paranormal stories.

  On discovering that they shared a secret passion for erotic fiction and had scarily similar taste in books, they became the best of friends. Caroline’s compulsive fondness for cleaning and her serious addiction to chocolate is countered by Eileen’s hatred of all sweet things and her ability to write almost anywhere there is room for her laptop

  Together, they got a chance to co-write a series of erotic novellas for an American publisher. When they completed the second one without killing each other, they decided to take on something bigger.

  In 2012, they abandoned their families and locked themselves into a haunted house for the summer to write The Pleasures of Winter. Eventually, they emerged into daylight, saying 'Never again'.

  Thankfully, it didn’t last for long. The Pleasures of Summer was released in May 2013 and The Pleasures of Autumn followed in October 2013.

  The Pleasures of Spring is out now…

  Roz Spring is an actress and a chameleon, the kind of woman who always lands on her feet. But even she can't talk her way out of witnessing a murder. Roz must go into hiding before the murderer comes for her.

  Andy McTavish has turned his back on a life of privilege to prove himself in the world of international security. Tall, dark and dangerous, Andy is the ultimate seducer and he’s never met a woman who can tame him.

  Roz needs his protection and, to get his family off his back, Andy needs a fake fiancée. The solution is obvious. Getting up close and personal won't be hard, as the chemistry between them is electrifying. But as two practiced charmers drive each other beyond the limits of sensual endurance, they find their usual defences are no good. When the barriers come crashing down, a raw passion emerges that neither wants to admit.