Driven Snow by Tara Lain Read Free Book Online Page A

led to another, and we found ourselves with much in common. I hadn’t felt that way in—well, a long time. By the end of the week, we were both smitten.”
    Smitten. Interesting choice of words. “Fast work.” Knight to d2.
    The professor gave him a startled glance. “Uh, yes. I’m sure it seems that way. But when it’s right, it’s right.” Bishop to g6.
    Snow swallowed. Obviously the professor saw nothing strange about the woman. Snow pushed back from the table. “I know this game.”
    “Yes, Kasparov’s Grandmaster game. I thought I might be able to fool you. But you’re way ahead, as always.”
    Maybe his feelings were just jealousy? “Are you going to coach Ms. Popescu?”
    “Yes, after the tournament. I thought you might like to help. She could benefit from your intuition. She’s such a logical player.”
    “So she’s not entering the Anderson Tournament?”
    The professor shook his head. “She has the rating, but I’ve told her she’s not ready.”
    “How can she be rated and yet we’ve never played?”
    “I will confess, she’s played in many obscure and lower-level tournaments. That’s kept her below the radar. Quite a clever strategy, really, but that’s also why she’s not prepared for the Anderson. Never really been tested.”
    “Does she agree with you? About not being ready?”
    He smiled tightly. “No. But she’ll do as I say.”
    Snow felt his hand tremble, and he stuck it in his lap. Why did he feel this way about a woman the professor clearly loved? “That’s good, I guess.”
    The professor grasped his arm with a warm hand. “Don’t worry. Nothing will change in our relationship. Anitra will learn to love you as much as I do, and you’ll just have another mentor.”
    Snow turned up his lips, but it was hard.
    The professor’s hand tightened. “Confession time. Don’t you have just a teeny crush on the football hero?”
    He blew out his breath. “That would be stupid. He’s straight.”
    “We don’t always want who and what we should.”
    Snow shrugged.
    “Does Winston know?”
    He gave in to the frown. “Professor, I know you’d like Winston and me to pair up, but it’s not realistic. I don’t feel that way about him. It would be very convenient if I did.”
    “I understand. I just don’t want you to be lonely. I know how painful that can be. Not having any family is hard for a young man.”
    “I’m not lonely—” Not exactly. “And you’ve always been like family to me.”
    “Yes, but I see you getting these romantic fantasies, and I worry. We need to find you a realistic partner. After all, you’re almost twenty-one. Life should be about more than chess moves.” He smiled goofily. “I’ve found that out for myself.”
    Snow’s stomach twisted.
    The professor rocked back in his chair. “Let’s try one more game, and then I want to get home. I’m meeting Anitra for a late cocktail.” He started setting up the board.
    Forty-five minutes later, Snow walked down the tree-lined street to his apartment—the place he’d inherited from his parents. He would have rather had the family. He sighed. At least it was a place to sleep and practice chess. In the entry, he checked the mail. Flyers for chess magazines, a few fan letters—most went to his post office box—and two invitations to tournaments. Most of those went directly to the professor.
    He climbed the stairs to the top floor like at Riley’s place, but there the resemblance stopped. This building was all stainless and glass, shiny, new, and cold. No worn, friendly carpet or worn, friendly landlady. His family’s trust owned the building, which meant he’d own it once he turned twenty-one.
    He tossed the mail trash on the table inside the front door and walked over to sit in the rocker he kept by the huge front picture window. He might not like the inside of the place, but he loved the view—well, usually. Now, dark storm clouds roiled over the treetops and blocked the far-off vistas he