Read Fire Under Snow for Free Online

morning.”
    â€œSo do I.”
    â€œSome people can exist on less sleep than others.”
    â€œTrue,” he acknowledged. “Do you eat breakfast?”
    â€œWell – yes.”
    â€œThen regard it as an early breakfast. Ten minutes.”
    â€œWhere are you planning to ...” It was too late. He’d rung off.
    She flew back up the stairs, the question poised in her mind as to where he could be taking her at this time of night unanswered. She slipped out of her dressing gown and dealt with the pearl buttons at the neck of her nightgown, still with little idea of what to wear. Noel was a man of the world. He surely wouldn’t expect her to be dressed and made up for a select nightspot in ten minutes? Yet what other type of establishment would be open for meal service at this hour?
    The clothes in her wardrobe were sparse. She had preferred to save for quality items rather than spend her money indiscriminately on a jumble of cheaper garments. The gray suit teamed with a glimmer-of-pale-purple silk blouse just scraped by for dressy occasions while not looking out of place in less formal surroundings. She applied her makeup lightly with professional expertise. The trade she had so painstakingly and lovingly learned, and which she had been forced to give up, still had its uses. Usually she complemented the elegance of her suit with a more sophisticated hairstyle, but her hair, conditioned and shampooed earlier in the evening, was as slippery as silk and not to be managed in the few minutes at her disposal. It reached her shoulders, undulating gently to the contours of her face, a shining fall of gold that curved under naturally at the ends. The simplicity of the style gave her face a childish sensuality that was even more disturbing, more potent, them the sophisticated kind which came complete with its own protective hardness.
    Checking her appearance, she saw that the flood of hair enhanced the fragility of her features, making her eyes appear larger than they actually were, vulnerable, curious eyes that shone with incredible clarity above the provocative curve of her cheek and the passionate and inviting fullness of her mouth.
    She gave a gasp of astonishment. Until that moment of critical analysis, when she tried to see herself as Noel would see her, she had been blind to the picture of wanton enticement her face presented.
    She snatched the shining strands back with her fingers, letting them fall loose again when she realized her hair was not responsible for the change. The look was still there. It came from within, born of thoughts she still barely acknowledged in relation to Noel Britton or, indeed, any man. She had never wondered before what it would be like to have the power to torment a man like Noel Britton out of his mind, drive him insane, inflict him with masculine urges he had no will and no wish to deny. She had always thought that girls who, by manner or by dress, set out to lay a trap of seduction deserved to be caught in the snare themselves.
    Noel was waiting for her when she got downstairs, his long, lean frame nonchalantly propped against the expensive car parked at the curb. She descended the last few steps, conscious of the tensing of her own body as his eyes ran over it, his steely glance lingering in amused appreciation on the warm awareness coloring her cheeks before contacting her eyes in unmistakable speculation.
    He touched her hair. “Nice. It suits you down,” he approved, and then he swung open the car door for her to get in.
    She hesitated, her breath harsh in her throat. “Where are you taking me?”
    Indolently, with no sense of haste, conveying a gesture of lazy possession, his hand curved to her waist. “It can’t be your place, so it’s got to be mine.”
    â€œNo.” She would have been shocked to know that only her mouth issued the denial; her eyes did not back it up.
    â€œI won’t push it.”
    The triumphant sound