Page 22 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Elara’s lips twitched as she looked at Grace from the corner of her eye, replying lowly, “I’ve got you.”

Grace giggled and blushed, hoping that the redness looked like nothing more than flush from the cold. As they reached the snow-covered trailhead, Grace tugged her hood down further and blew into her gloves to warm her fingers. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and the morning light reflected off the snow, making everything seem too bright, too sharp. She squinted against the glare.

“Stick close,” Elara murmured quietly as they fell in line behind Victor and Margaret.

Grace blinked up at her, surprised by the unexpected softness in her voice. “You mean emotionally or, like, physically?”

A flicker of a smile touched Elara’s lips—a moment so brief, Grace almost missed it. “Both,” Elara replied, her voice low and quiet enough that no one else could hear.

And just like that, the tension between them stretched thin again, taut and humming beneath the surface, waiting to snap.

The group shuffled forward, their snowshoes crunching against the frozen ground. Grace took a breath, filling her lungs with the cold air, hoping it would cool the heat that hadn’t left her since Elara walked through the door that morning. But as Elara moved gracefully ahead, her dark hair catching the sunlight like a glimmering thread, Grace knew it was going to be a very long hike.

Grace huffed as she made her way up the hill, glaring at Eleanor’s back in amazement. How was it possible that an old woman with a cane was leaving her in the dust? Grace muttered under her breath, cursing as she tried to widen her stride and gain ground.

As they crested the hill, Grace sighed in amazement at the stunning view before her. An extravagant table had been set with picnic baskets and thermoses that were sure to be filled with some warm concoction that would put to shame her packets of hot cocoa back at home. The long wooden table seemed to have grown out of the earth, blending in with the snow-dusted trees. The deep blue waters of the lake were eerily calm, shimmering with sunlight and the reflection of the clouds above. The lake’s shoreline was dappled with large granite boulders and empty piers, now coated in the soft white blanket of snow.

Grace had not yet approached the table, watching everyone sit as the waiters began to pour steaming cups of hot cocoa. She turned to look out at the vista and wondered if any of the Silver family still felt awe at such beautiful scenery.

She could feel Elara’s presence behind her as Elara whispered in her ear, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Grace felt chills run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold mountain air. She couldn’t help but recall the way Elara had looked when she called her beautiful. Looking just over her shoulder, she locked eyes with Elara, and could see the same heat reflected back at her. Unable to resist the pull between them, Grace turned so that they were toe to toe and looked up into Elara’s eyes.

“It’s stunning,” she whispered and then slipped her arms around Elara’s waist, pulling her into a hug. She felt the stiffness in Elara’s spine slowly melt as she wrapped her arms around Grace in turn. She tucked her head against Elara’s chest. “Thank you.”

Elara stiffened briefly before resting her cheek on Grace’s head, her hands lightly bunching the fabric at the small of her back. The two held each other for a moment until Elara slowly pulled back. “Let’s go eat.”

9

Get it together. This is just the next part of the performance.

Elara stabbed at her salad, keeping her expression neutral as the conversation hummed around the table. Grace was laughing at something Cate had said, her hazel eyes glowing in the candlelight.Focus, Elara.She’d let things go too far, lost control of the situation—and herself—in the heat of that kiss and everything that followed. But it was just an act. That’s all it was. A necessary step to make the charade convincing.The sex doesn’t mean anything. I needed to make it believable. It’s fine. Everything is under control.

Except nothing felt under control. She could still feel the warmth of Grace’s skin beneath her hands, the way her breath had hitched in the dark. The sweet sweet taste of Grace’s pussy. And that maddening look on Grace’s face afterward—thatwas the part Elara couldn’t stop replaying. As if Grace had seen through her, peeled back every layer she used to keep herself distant and cool.

She shifted in her seat, feeling the weight of it all pressing against her: the family, the expectations, the charade.It’sworking,she reminded herself, glancing down the table. They were buying it. They believed she was finally doing what they wanted—settling down, finding someone. The family pressure had eased, and the conversation had moved to safer ground.So why do I feel like I’m unraveling?

Her father’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’ve made a good choice with this one, Elara,” Victor said, leaning back in his chair with the satisfied smile of a man who believed he was right about everything. “I’m proud of you for finally making the effort to settle down.”

Proud. That word twisted like a knife in her gut. For years, all she had wanted was to hear it—and now that it was here, it felt hollow, meaningless.He’s not proud of me. He’s proud of this image I’ve created. Of the lie I’m living right in front of him.

She forced a smile and nodded, lifting her wine glass to her lips to buy herself time. A hand slipped over hers, squeezing gently. Elara peeked at Grace, who caught her eye, a soft question lingering in her gaze. Elara looked away quickly.Don’t, Grace. Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t real.

The sooner you accept that, the better.

Not noticing the turmoil raging inside of Elara, Victor smiled and began to ask about recent market trends. James quipped in bringing up expansion plants and real estate acquisitions. Elara sat straighter, glad to be back in safe territory.

She leaned forward. “We’ve been considering a new property on the East Coast,” Elara said smoothly, seizing control of the conversation. “The market is showing promise, especially for boutique experiences.”

The conversations whirled around her, excitement in the air as the family volleyed questions and remarks as if it were a sport. However, Elara couldn’t help but find her gaze constantly shifting over to Grace seated beside her.

She looked beautiful as she smiled and laughed at something Grandma Elle said. She leaned forward, the corset top of her muted pink dress offering Elara a glimpse at her ample breasts. Elara’s eyes fixed on Grace, remembering the way she moaned when Elara had sucked and teased her nipples. The blood began to rush to her head, the buzzing in her ears drowning out the conversation around her. She shook her head, attempting to shake off the heat crawling under her skin.

Dinner wound down with the slow crawl of conversation and the clinking of wine glasses. Elara barely tasted the final course, too busy calculating how soon she could make her exit without arousing suspicion.

She folded her napkin and placed it neatly by her plate, glancing down the table at her parents, who were still deep in conversation. Victor had a satisfied look on his face, as if he’d just made a wise investment. Margaret gave her an approving nod, the subtle kind she reserved for moments when Elara did exactly what was expected of her.

Perfectly executed. Everyone is happy. Mission accomplished.

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