Snowbound Summer
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Snowbound Summer
by Veronica Tower
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Erotica/Romance
www.redrosepublishing.com
Copyright ©2011 by Veronica Tower
First published in 2011
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
CONTENTS
Other Books by Veronica Tower and Red Rose Publishing
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Snowbound Summer
Snowbound Series
Book Six
By
Veronica Tower
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Snowbound Summer by Veronica Tower
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Red RoseTM Publishing
Publishing with a touch of Class! TM
The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red RoseTM Publishing
Red RoseTM Publishing
Copyright(C) 2011 Veronica Tower
ISBN: 978-1-4543-0081-6
Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett
Editor: Pam
Line Editor: Zena Gainer
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.
This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.
* * * *
Red RoseTM Publishing
www.redrosepublishing.com
Forestport, NY 13338
Thank you for purchasing a book from Red RoseTM Publishing where publishing
comes with a touch of Class!
Chapter One
“Now where were those muscles that were hurting?” Ron whispered as he slid beneath the sheets in the bed beside Kara. The door was closed, the lights were off, and so—Kara suddenly realized—were all of Ron's clothes.
This was not happening tonight—or any other time this weekend!
She placed her hand on Ron's muscular chest and pushed him back toward the edge of the bed. “Be good!” she whispered fiercely.
“I thought you said I'm always good,” Ron teased back. His hand slid beneath the covers to touch her stomach over top of her light summer nightgown.
She grabbed his hand and tried to push it away but he resisted her. “Put some pajamas on,” she whispered.
“I didn't bring any,” Ron told her. “Now what about those sore muscles? Did it hurt up here?” Ron slid his hand up her body and cupped one of Kara's large breasts.
Kara grabbed the hand again and this time successfully pulled it away from her body. “That isn't a muscle,” she told him.
Ron slid closer so that the long length of his firm naked body pressed against the more slender lines of Kara's form. His lips nuzzled her ear through the strands of her long dark hair. “Are you certain?” he asked. “Let's check it out...”
“Kara, you came!” Ron's mother exclaimed as she threw her arms around Kara and hugged her.
Kara cautiously returned the embrace, taking advantage of the opportunity to throw a glare at her younger boyfriend. Ron was not supposed to have told his mother that she hadn't wanted to come on this Miller family vacation. They were going to have to talk about the matter of confidences and discretion.
Ron's mother relaxed her hold and stepped back from Kara. She was an older woman—as befitted someone celebrating her fortieth wedding anniversary—but the only place her years showed was in a slight wrinkling around the eyes which the plastic surgeon couldn't quite smooth away. She dyed her hair midnight black and adorned herself with tasteful jewelry and expensive name brand clothes. Unfortunately, her embrace was not necessarily a sign of affection. She was a touchy feely sort of person and she greeted even the mildest of acquaintances the same, whether she was fond of them or not.
Kara stepped to the side to make room for Ron to kiss his mother on the cheek. The two didn't share a strong family resemblance. Ron's six foot three frame towered over the smaller woman and his blond hair stood out in stark contrast to his mother's dyed tresses. But there was still tenderness in both of them, even after the stress introduced by Ron's decision to date an older woman and thereby lessening his mother's chance of securing more grandchildren. At least she didn't appear concerned that Kara was African-American.
Ron slipped his arm around Kara's waist and stepped with her into the cabin. His father was sprawled on the couch in front of the television, his belt and pants already unbuckled to reduce the strain on his large belly. The older Miller couldn't appear more different than his wife. Where she was immaculately coifed, he looked like he hadn't combed his thinning black hair, or washed his clothes, in days. The fact that he'd made such little personal effort on the occasion of his fortieth wedding anniversary weekend said tons about the man's disposition and indirectly explained why Ron and Kara were here.
“Hey, Dad,” Ron said.
His father merely grunted and kept his attention on the television—a typical response, as far as Kara could tell. Ron had privately confided that his father acted far differently when Ron was alone with him, but that his irritating all-consuming hostility toward women kept him from relaxing when Kara was around.
“Howard!” Hanna snapped. “It's our anniversary! Can't you even try and be polite to our family? Ron and Kara flew nearly two thousand miles to be with us.”
“I don't know why they bothered,” Ron's father replied. “We live less than twenty miles away from them.”
Which was also the heart of the problem, Kara knew. Hanna wanted to be able to tell her friends that she had celebrated her fortieth wedding anniversary in a grand style, but her husband had been publicly regretting marrying her for most of those forty years. Since a large party back in Detroit wasn't really possible, she had pressured Ron and his two sisters to join them for a weekend in the northwest so she could claim a major family celebration. The downside for Kara, of course, was that instead of having to spend one evening with the hopefully normal friends of Ron's strange parents, she was going to be trapped for a weekend with the whole Miller clan.
“We bothered because we love you, Dad,” Ron told him. He looked around as if searching for something. “Where's everyone else?”
“Your sisters already have their broods on the slopes,” his mother told him. “It's not every day you get the chance to go skiing in August and the kids were very excited about it.”
Kara decided this was the perfect opening to flatter Ron's mother. “We're pretty excited about it too, Hanna,” she said. “Holding your celebration at a summer ski resort was a fabulous idea. I didn't know you could do this in America.”
Hanna's smile looked warm and genuine. “There are only a couple of these lodges that are high enough in the mountains to have summer skiing. Frankly, I was skeptical, but they have enough activities that don't involve the snow that I figured we could keep the kids occupied even if the skiing part of the trip didn't work out.”
“That's for sure, Mom,” Ron said. “Nature trails, horseback riding, rock climbing,
ice
climbing—I'm not sure I even want to hit the ski trails.”
Kara felt the corners of her mouth quirking up. She wondered if her twenty-five year old boyfriend knew that he was one of the
kids
his mother had been thinking about when she worried over keeping the children entertained.
“Just keep in mind, dear, that Kara isn't as young as you are. Try to choose an activity where she can keep up with you.”
Kara lost her smile. She had expected her race to be a problem with Ron's family as
his
was with Kara's mother, but it was the fifteen years separating them that seemed to keep Hanna Miller up at nights. With Ron's father the dislike was more general. He just seemed to hate all women.
She tried to mask her annoyance for Ron's sake and ran her hand over her boyfriend's muscular bicep. “No one can keep up with Ron,” she said.
“But we have fun making you try,” Ron added.
His little double entendre sent competing surges of excitement and embarrassment through Kara's body as the image of Ron's naked body propped over hers flashed through her mind. Fortunately, Hanna's expression gave no hint that she had noticed Ron's little witticism. Howard's perpetual scowl didn't change either.
Kara was beginning to think that she had misread Ron's statement herself when he surreptitiously slid his hand behind her and squeezed her ass. She wished he wouldn't do that in front of his parents—even if she did love the feel of his hands.
“So Anne and Kitten are skiing?” Ron asked.
“Their kids are all out exploring already,” his mother said. “I think Anne is with her youngest on the bunny slope while I believe Kitten said something about hitting the bar.”
“Already?” Ron asked.
“What do you expect?” Ron's father asked. “Hanna insisted she bring her husband with her. You can't have fun on a trip when you're married!”
Kara still found these statements by Howard Miller shocking, but Ron and his mother continued on as if he hadn't spoken.
“Well, maybe we should get our suitcases into the cabin and get out there ourselves,” he told his mother. “Have you given any thought to how you're going to spend the day?”
Hanna glanced at her husband who remained sprawled on the couch watching television as if he were still at home. Kara thought she detected the slightest flicker of disappointment in the woman's eyes—as if she'd secretly hoped that bringing her husband away for their anniversary might spark an improvement in their relationship.
“I might do a little skiing,” she said, “now that my favorite boy is here.”
Kara felt a flicker of indignation mixed with concern. Ron had promised her they'd only have to put up with his family when they were at the cabin. She didn't want to have Hanna Miller come skiing with them. She wanted some time alone with her man!
“We were thinking of doing some ice climbing,” Ron said.
That was news to Kara, but she immediately realized that it was unlikely Ron's fifty-eight year old mother would choose to join them in that activity. Kara herself wasn't too thrilled with the idea but they wouldn't actually have to do it as long as they got Hanna to leave them alone.
“Oh, don't do that today,” Hanna pleaded. “Let's all go skiing. How often do you get to ski in the summer?”
Kara decided to be a good guest and support the idea. “Before you mentioned this trip,” she told Hanna, “I didn't even know it was possible to ski in August. My sister, Liz, and her boyfriend are anxiously awaiting a report from me. If the slopes are even half good, they'll probably come out themselves in a couple of weeks.”
“I hope everyone has fun,” Hanna said. “I'm not such a big skier myself, but I know that Ron and the girls like it, and of course the grandchildren adore getting out on the slopes.”
“It'll be great!” Ron assured her. “Kara's a good skier too.”
That was pure exaggeration, Kara knew. Her sister was an excellent skier, but she was only a competent one. Still it was fun and she liked being complimented. “So should we bring the bags in and hit the slopes?” she asked Ron.
“I'll get them,” Ron said. He didn't even glance at his father before slipping back past Kara and out the door.
“I'll help you,” Kara told him and followed him out before he could protest. She did not want to be trapped alone with his mother, and she wanted to figure out how they were going to get away for a bit.
Ron had not waited for her—which was far from his usual behavior. Instead he'd gone straight to the rental car and opened the trunk so he could access his garment bag and Kara's three cases.
Kara joined him behind the car, watching the muscles in his face contract with uncharacteristic tension.
“I can get these,” he said as he pulled her largest piece of luggage out of the trunk and set it on the pavement. There was snow on the grass around the cabin and on the slopes above them, but not on the black asphalt of the parking space.
