His Frozen Heart: A Mountain Man Romance

by Georgia Le Carre

  I sniffed.

  ‘And after we have spoken about it you can keep the memory if you want, or we can hide it away. Up to you. OK?’

  ‘OK.’ I paused. ‘But what if it is something unforgivable?’

  ‘Everything is forgivable, my angel. There is no life for me without you.’

  With a sudden jerk he yanked the duvet cover down my legs. My first reaction was a strange and unexpected one. A strangled gasp of horror ran out of my mouth while my hands flew to cover my breasts and my sex. I had become shockingly and painfully ashamed of my nakedness. I dropped my chin to my chest, my hair making a curtain for me to hide to behind. My whole body shivered in the chill of the morning air.

  For a few seconds he did nothing. Then he put a finger beneath my chin and lifted it up so I was forced to meet his eyes.

  ‘Why are you hiding?’ he asked.

  I stared wordlessly at him.

  ‘You’re perfect,’ he whispered.

  His words tugged at my heart. He was reeling me in as surely as a fish caught on a hook. His finger traced the line of my jaw and lingered on its way down my throat.

  ‘So fucking perfect...’ He smiled suddenly, a triumphant, possessive smile. ‘… that I claim you.’

  I heard the fierce pleasure in his voice. He removed his finger and my skin tingled where it had been.

  ‘All fucking mine. Every last inch. Today I brand you as my sole property. From this day forth you will be only mine. No one other may look, touch or enter what is now mine.’ He paused. ‘Who do you belong to woman?’

  ‘You,’ I whispered hoarsely.

  He nodded. ‘Good. Place your hands behind your head.’ It was a definite command not a request.

  My eyes popped open with surprise. I opened my mouth to object, but no words came. Only a strange excitement coursing through my blood. I felt hot and shivery at the same time. His eyes were dark, commanding, full of lust and utterly mesmerizing. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Slowly my hands left my breasts and the triangle of hair between my legs, and linked behind my head.

  He let his gaze lazily rake down my body. I swallowed hard. I had never felt so exposed or spread open before.

  ‘Are you wet?’ he asked, already knowing the answer.

  ‘Yes,’ I admitted and felt ashamed of my sexuality, my wantonness, my lack of decorum, and the desperation with which I wanted him. I just wanted to hide away from him and the knowledge of myself. I closed my eyes.

  ‘Open your eyes, Olivia.’ His voice low and deep: demanding.

  I obeyed.

  ‘Spread your legs so I can see the soft sweet flesh of my cunt.’ He spoke softly, but his eyes flashed possessively.

  I bit my lip and stared into his molten eyes. They were devouring me. There was longing there. Intense longing. No one had ever looked at me like that. My clit responded instantly, throbbing violently, wanting, begging. Slowly, I opened my thighs.

  His eyes dropped to my sex.

  ‘Wider,’ he commanded.

  Tingling waves radiated through me, settling in my core, making me feel as if I was wax, melting under the heat of his gaze. The simple unadorned truth was I wanted to be filled. I needed him to fix the ache. I was so ready for his cock. My legs inched apart, the soles of my feet dragging, the sheet tangled around one ankle a delicious ache between my legs, and a wicked thrill running up my spine. That first instinct to cover myself was completely gone. Now I wanted him to watch me. I wanted to see his eyes shining and greedy for what he had claimed as his.

  I put on a little show. I arched my back so my breasts thrust forward, the tips aching for his mouth, his teeth, his fingers, anything.

  A low growl rumbled in his throat.

  When I could spread no further his eyes roved over my body proprietarily, with ownership, the way a man would look at a prized horse or a painting he had fought hard to acquire at an auction. ‘That’s better,’ he said and reaching out grazed his fingers slowly along my inner-thigh. His eyes never left mine. I was so wet I was afraid I was dripping onto his sheet.

  He brushed his fingers in an upward motion through the slick, swollen folds of my sex. A gasp escaped me. Gently his thumb began to circle my clit and I drew a shuddering breath. ‘It’s true,’ he said huskily, ‘your pussy is like a very, very ripe and juicy fruit and I could fuck it all day and all night long. And it is also true I wanted to fuck you from the moment you walked into my office, no, scrap that, from the moment Beryl showed me a picture of you on the Internet. And it’s true that due to the… ah … complicated nature of our relationship I’ve done nothing so far, but fuck you but, don’t for a moment think you’re not going to get the flowers, the chocolates, the cinema, the dinner dates, and the whole fucking shebang.’

  All the while his thumb never stopped massaging.

  ‘We’re going to start over,’ he said, and casually pushed a finger into me.

  I moaned.

  He leaned forward and took a nipple in his warm mouth. ‘Oh,’ I cried. He sucked it while his fingers played with my pussy.

  He raised his head, his face so sincere it almost made me want to cry. ‘You’re not in the limbo of the past. You’re with me now. You’re my woman. My baby. And nothing from the past can change that. From now on you are flying under my wings. Anybody who wants to hurt you has to go through me first. Do you understand that?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered, staring transfixed at his gorgeous face.

  ‘I’d kiss you all over, but that wouldn’t be enough. I’d lick you all over, but that wouldn’t be enough either.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I’ll just have to fuck you until you faint.’

  And he grabbed me, his thumbs pressing into the creases where my thighs began and the rest of his large palms curled underneath my buttocks, and jerked me forward. I squealed with the suddenness of his actions. In a smooth move of his big, sturdy body, he aligned his thick, long cock with my entrance.

  ‘I love you, Marlow Kane,’ I said.

  For a second he didn’t move, just froze as if made of stone.

  ‘I know that,’ he said hoarsely, and drove himself deep inside me. He stilled and waited until my muscles stretched and adjusted to his size. When I exhaled with pleasure he began to thrust, his strong hands gripping my flesh so hard I knew he would leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. But I wanted him to mark me. It is a primal thing to darken the skin of the one that belongs to you. When he sees the marks he will know: I am his. When I see the marks I will know: I am his.

  Pinned under his big sturdy body with his cock deeply embedded inside me, I looked him in the eye and urged, ‘Harder.’

  His cock slammed into me.

  ‘Yes,’ I screamed.

  The thrusts were savage and relentless. His body slapped at my clit. When I started to feel the edges of an orgasm a smothered cry escaped my lips. Above me his body became solid. I gripped the hard muscles of his upper-arms and we exploded at the same moment. He came over and over inside me, the eruptions rocking us both. Finally it was over. Our foreheads touched, our breathing hot and heavy.

  ‘I really, really, really, really love it when you wear me at the end of your cock, Marlow Kane,’ I whispered shyly.

  He grinned. ‘And I’m gonna fill you so full of my cum it’s going to be dripping out of you for days.’

  Hours later I stared up at him. ‘You know who the white owl is, don’t you?’

  His face changed. ‘I don’t for sure, but I can guess.’

  Incredibly curious, I asked, ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Because the first law of war is to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.’

  I thought of all her silky lies. The betrayal was like a wound in my chest. I shook my head. Then another thought, totally unrelated, struck me: my missing shiny black stiletto boots. ‘My God! She knew I was a …,’ I paused it was hard to say the word, ‘… a prostitute.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because she secretly went to
my flat and removed everything that could have acted as a trigger to remind me of that part of my life. I don’t know what her plan was, but I think she meant to use you to confuse me. All my memories would have been seen as too preposterous to be real. God! I can’t believe how devious and insidious she is! I’ve been so stupid. I never guessed. Not for a moment.’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Olivia. You were fooled by a consummate actress,’ he consoled.

  ‘She’s not just a consummate actress she’s also a murderer,’ I spat out furiously.

  He scowled. ‘Murderer?’

  ‘She killed my mother. I saw her. I saw her smother Mummy with a pillow.’ My voice wobbled with the memory of that night.

  Something flashed in his eyes. ‘But that doesn’t make sense. I thought your mother was dying. Why not just wait it out?’

  He was right. Why? Why would she take the risk? Then it hit me.

  ‘Daffy. She was already sleeping with my father and pregnant with Daffy. She didn’t want her child to be a bastard. She was hoping it would be a boy who could inherit the title and estate. Daffy was born seven months after my mother died, and Ivana claimed it was premature. Of course, everybody knew, but no one said anything.’

  I laughed suddenly, a humorless, joyless sound.

  ‘And she’s been French kissing karma ever since. She found out after Daffy was born that she couldn’t have any more children. She could not produce a male heir for my father’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I want to punish her. I want her to suffer.’

  Chapter 34

  Olivia

  My father was watching a race on the box. He had money on Penny Turns Up Again. I walked up to him.

  ‘Daddy,’ I called.

  He glanced up impatiently. ‘Hello, princess!’

  ‘Daddy, I’ve remembered some of my past.’

  ‘Come in then,’ he said reluctantly. He did not switch off the TV, but muted it to indicate he did not expect me to stay long.

  I sat down on the armchair next to him, smoothed my skirt over my legs and looked him in the eye. ‘I remembered the day Mummy died.’

  He stared at me uncomfortably. Poor Daddy. He had a horror of emotional scenes. Was there any point in telling him? Yes. Mummy deserved that. Everything else had been taken away from her.

  He cleared his throat. ‘What did you remember, ducky?’

  ‘I woke up in the night because I had a bad dream and I went to Mummy’s room. I opened the door and Ivana was there. She was suffocating Mummy with a pillow.’

  My father’s eyes bulged with incredulity. ‘Poppycock!’ he blurted out. ‘Poppycock!’ he said again. His face became red with anger. ‘It’s that half-wit American hypnotist who has put these nonsensical ideas into your head.’

  ‘Dr. Kane didn’t do any such thing,’ I said calmly.

  He looked at me with disappointment. ‘You do Ivana a great injustice. How could you even dream of spouting such lies about her after she has treated you as if you were her own.’

  ‘She wanted Mummy out of the way so she could marry you.’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe that you could even think such a thing. What are you saying? Think about it. Ivana took excellent care of your mother. Your mother was genuinely fond of her.’

  ‘Ivana was wearing a green dress with a yellow belt and the big round buttons on her dress were made of the same material as her dress.’

  My father’s mouth dropped open. We stared at each other. The tongue can conceal the truth but never the eyes. In those seconds the unguarded truth leapt up from the depths of his soul and shone momentarily in his eyes, and it was all over. He was caught as surely as a fish on a hook.

  He dropped his eyes. ‘I can’t do without her, ducky. She takes care of everything…the house…the estate…our schedule…. I couldn’t do without her.’

  I nodded. ‘I knew you’d say that, but I had to tell you, for Mummy’s sake.’

  He nodded, still looking at the ground.

  ‘I’d better push off then.’ I stood up and began to walk to the door.

  ‘Princess?’

  I turned around. His shoulders were slumped. He looked crushed. I pitied him then.

  ‘You won’t be unkind, will you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You won’t tell anyone?’

  ‘Who’d believe me, Daddy? The mad stepdaughter. They would simply call it false memory. It was why she sent me to Dr. Kane in the first place. She knew I was beginning to remember things and this way all my memories could be discredited.’ I smiled. ‘You’ve underestimated Mummy’s nurse, Daddy. She’s managed us all perfectly.’

  He gapped at me. I had never seen my father look so agonized or lost. He shook his head as if to reject what I was saying.

  ‘She picked Dr. Kane precisely because she knew he was disgraced and she found out that he had a drinking problem. If he failed she could say it was because he was a drunk, if he was successful she could claim the process was faulty.’

  My father shifted, his eyes pleading. ‘You will understand that this is all very difficult for me. Your mother is gone and I…um…am very fond of Poppe—her.’

  In the end my father could always be relied on to retreat into self-interest. Above all else, what was good for William Elliot Swanson.

  ‘I understand perfectly,’ I said and went to walk away again.

  ‘Wait.’

  I turned once more.

  ‘I’m issuing a new Letters Patent stating that the eldest daughter may inherit both the title and the estate.’

  I smiled sadly. ‘I don’t want it. Give it to Jacobi. Make his mother happy.’

  He stood up and put his hand out in an awkward pleading gesture. ‘Don’t break this family up. That’s all I beg of you.’

  I began to walk.

  My father cried out urgently. ‘Please, Vivi.’

  And I turned around and stared. He was out of his chair. A solitary tear was rolling down his cheek. I had never seen him cry before. I knew that single tear betraying his terrible pain had cost him his pride. Perhaps he had a great and pure love for her, after all.

  ‘I won’t harm you, Daddy. I love you,’ I said softly and walked out of Marlborough Hall. When I reached the car I turned and looked up at the second floor bedroom. Ivana was watching me. In the gloom of the window she looked pale and insubstantial as a ghost. We stared at each other for a few moments. She did not wave and neither did I.

  We both knew the truth. She had planned and schemed and lied and stolen and murdered, but there was no need to punish her. Her real tragedy was being stuck in a loveless marriage. Being married to a man so far inferior in intellect to her that he bored her stiff each day from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning.

  I had seen it in her eyes many times—the desire for men other than my father—but she controlled it with an iron will. She had chosen the splendor of a public life and the envy of her friends without the true and lasting joy of inner satisfaction, but she deeply resented having to make that choice.

  The weak morning sun was shining down on Marlborough Hall. It always looked its best on a sunny day. I turned away and got into my car and drove away without looking back. I would miss my conservatory, but otherwise there was nothing I would wish I had not left behind.

  Soon it would be spring. And then summer.

  Chapter 35

  Ivana

  I stood at the window and looked at my reflection in the window. I was wearing a cream silk and wool dress. Cream suited my dark hair and pale coloring. Beyond my ghostly reflection lay the beautifully manicured gardens. Soon Dr. Kane will be here. My husband wanted to join me in the meeting but I dissuaded him. It was far better that I alone handle this matter.

  Anyway, it was a relief to send him away to the stables. Last night I had to do all those things that I had not done for a very long time. I had almost forgotten how dreadfully white, flabby and sweaty he could get when
he had to do the deed. Like a sack of wet sand he had puffed and panted on top of me while I pretended to enjoy it. I even took his shriveled, red penis into my mouth.

  I stilled the shudder of disgust that ran through me and took a deep breath. There was a price to pay for everything. This house, the envy of all the people I knew, the glow of being recognized and treated as someone important, all of it had to be paid for. He was basking in the glow of our renewed passion this morning. I reinstated my power. So it was worth it.

  I put him at the back of my mind. He was not important now. I watched Dr. Kane’s car drive up. Inside me a serpent twisted and spewed its poison into my veins. The effect of its acid was immediate. My hands started to tremble. I clenched them into hard fists.

  God, I hated that bitch. How I hated her.

  She was supposed to die in that car accident. Anyone else would have just given up and died, but her? Noooo. Like an unwanted, ugly weed she sprouted up again. And now she was setting roots, becoming strong. Worse, she found a man to champion her. I had underestimated the cunningness of my step-daughter. The cheap little whore had done what cheap little whores do. Opened her legs and ensnared him. Now he was hers to bid.

  The venom bubbled. It felt as if it was eating me up from inside.

  I gritted my teeth.

  What an awful miscalculation it had been to send her to him. How I regretted it. It kept me awake all night knowing that it was I who had arranged their meeting. I should have done my homework better. I should never have picked a man who was so physically beautiful, a man even I could have loved. I thought tragedy had felled him, made him an irredeemable shadow of himself, but I was wrong.

  I remembered too late what my mother had told me. She said that all men could be described as boxes of goodies hanging on strings from a tree branch. There were three types of boxes. Empty, nearly empty and full. It was very easy to recognize the nearly empty boxes. They rattled a lot. They were always showing off, telling you how much money they had or what amazing lovers they were. The problem was distinguishing between the empty boxes and the full boxes since they both spoke very little.