Excerpt from Hard As
Ice by Victoria Barbour
Tink. Tink. Tink.
It was funny how such a little sound
could ricochet off one’s
head so that it felt more like a mallet walloping thunk thunk thunk.
Daphne Scott scrunched her face in
agony as she tried to tune out the sound that had permeated her slumber. How
much time had passed since she’d
laid her head down on the sofa to rest a little in her drunken state?
Her atypical condition paired perfectly
with the events that had led to it. After all, the marriage of her bold, big
brother, Campbell Scott to petite and perfect Elsie Walsh was anything but
typical. From their whirlwind engagement and wedding on the same day to the
impromptu concert by superstar musician Asher Corbin for the entire community
of Heart’s Ease, population two hundred and
thirty-three (thirty-four if you now added Cam to the mix), the day was a
combination of all things unexpected. Which was why she, a self-styled big city
gal and socialite, wasn’t
all that shocked to find herself in the middle of a drinking contest with not
one, but four women she’d
never met until sometime in the wee hours of the seemingly never-ending party
that was the wedding reception.
Through the pounding of her head, she
recalled with horror the way her increased drinking had made her Scottish
accent thicker. Of course, the more her new-found lady friends drank, the
harder their Newfoundland dialect was to understand. To an outsider the
conversation must have been unintelligible. Suffice it to say there was a lot of
boasting about drinking, nationalities, and men.
At one point in the evening Daphne’s mother, who had a strict three dram
of Scotch limit, had tried to get her daughter to follow her up the stairs of
the luxurious Heart’s
Ease Inn and go to sleep, but Daphne had proclaimed with a waggling finger, “I am thirty years old, Mum. You are not
the boss of me.”
Her mother might have protested if her husband hadn’t led her away.
She didn’t think anyone had noticed when she’d accepted the invitation of Elsie’s third cousin Violet for the small
group to head back to her house for a night cap. Two hours later, as the sun
rose above the wide harbour of Heart’s
Ease, Daphne’s
last thought before she fell asleep on Violet Walsh’s sofa was that she could indeed drink
more than the girls.
Tink. Tink. Tink.
Damn it. She was going to have to open
her eyes and put an end to the infernal racket. The evil sun beaming through a
nearby window was also conspiring against her slumber. She blinked a little to
try to focus, while her head immediately began to violently protest the
light. She found the source of the noise
in the kitchen, which was open to the living room. A Greek god was sitting at
the table, stirring his cup of tea while looking at a tablet of some sort. It
wasn’t the sort of thing she’d ever imagined Greek gods doing, but
this one seemed to be quite relaxed.
She
shifted on the sofa, aware that her dress had ridden well up past her knees.
The god looked up.
“Sorry.
I tried to be quiet,” he said. “You looked pretty solidly asleep there, so I
thought I could grab a bit of breakfast without waking you.”
Daphne
rubbed one hand over her eyes and down her face, trying to wake up.
“What
time is it,” she said, shocked that her voice croaked. Just how much had she
drunk the night before?
“A
little past ten. You want a cup of tea?”
She
stretched. “No thanks. I better find my way back to the inn before my parents
call in the troops.”
“You
want a ride?”
She
felt like asking if he had a chariot pulled by Pegasus tucked out back, but figured
he wouldn’t understand. This blond-haired, bluish-grey-eyed Adonis of a man
looked as if he’d been chiseled on an urn somewhere.
“I
think the walk would do me good,” she said, as she searched around for her coat
and shoes. She couldn’t help notice that he was staring at her as she pulled on
the four-inch heels. So what if she was five foot ten without shoes. She loved
heels and didn’t care how tall they made her. They made her legs look good, and
that was all that mattered.
“You
won’t be walking far in those this morning.” There was nothing subtle about his
slow survey of her body from toe to head. “Or in that dress.” He stood and
grabbed a thick plaid jacket. It looked like something a lumberjack would wear.
Not that she’d even seen a lumberjack, but she was a die-hard Monty Python fan.
She
was about to demand why he thought her unable to walk when she looked outside.
Snow covered the ground. She would swear that it hadn’t been snowing when she
left the inn.
As
he walked past her she realized he was taller than she’d initially thought. He
towered over her. No one towered over her, not even Cam who was by all accounts
pretty tall.
“Watch
your step,” he said, heading outside. “It might be a little slippery.” He left
the door open and disappeared from sight.
As
Daphne reached the door she was assailed by the cold wind. The sun was shining,
but the snow was dancing in little sweeping drifts as the wind blew. Her
unidentified chauffeur was starting a large black pickup truck that looked as
if it had seen better days. Her first step nearly landed her on her rear. Her
saving grace was the door frame, which she just managed to grab.
“Jesus,
I’m sorry,” he shouted as he got out of the truck. “Don’t move.” He hopped over
the fence that separated the walkway from the parallel driveway. “You alright?”
She
shivered, but whether it was from the cold or the thrill that shot through her
arm when he touched her, she couldn’t be sure.
“Those
shoes are not Heart’s Ease friendly,” he said as he ushered her to the truck.
“You women and your fancy shoes.”
“Well,
it’s good that I’m not going to be here any longer than I must, isn’t it,” she
said, riled by his comment. She knew her voice was clipped.
“Woah,
lady.” He raised his hands in the air. “I come in peace. I was just saying—”
“I
know exactly what you were saying. Men always think whatever a woman wants must
be frivolous.”
She
waited for his response but he was silent. Instead he turned up the radio and
backed out of the driveway.
Daphne
felt like turning it down and saying more, but she didn’t have the wherewithal.
She was tired, hungover, and now cold. There was no point getting into an
argument with this man, regardless of how good looking he was. In fact, that
was likely his problem. He wasn’t used to a woman talking back to him. Bet he
was the sort that women just went along with because he was so damn delicious
looking. Well, Daphne had known plenty of hot men in her life, and she’d never
minced her words. She prided herself on speaking her mind and not bottling up her
emotions. It was just a good mental health practice.
The
drive from the house where she’d woken to the inn may have taken two minutes.
If the town road hadn’t been covered in snow, she could have managed. The long
driveway up the hill to the inn was clear of snow and the path to the door was
immaculate.
“Thanks,”
she said as got out of the truck.
“No
problem. Enjoy your shoes.”
She
stopped. Turned. Stared at him.
He
had a wide grin on his face. And then he winked. “See ya around, Mary.”
“My
name is Daphne.” Her hands were on her hips.
He
leaned over to the passenger side and reached out to grab the door handle. God,
his arms were long! “Watch your step, Mary.” And he closed the door.
