Page 51 of Winter’s Fire

“This place is incredible!”

“It is?”

At his dismissive tone, she spun around and stared at him as if he’d flipped. “Seriously? You did not just say that?”

He shrugged. “It’s a room. Okay, it’s several rooms. What’s so special about them?”

“You only have to look at the décor! They’ve spared no expense with this place. Let’s have a look outside. If I remember rightly…”

He wondered where Lucy found the energy, when she grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the sliding glass doors on the other side of what was a very luxurious sitting area. He smiled and shook his head. “Okay, I’m coming. You do remember it’s dark out there?”

“Not on the patio. Oh my God, look!”

The hot tub he kind of expected—in a place like this, it was almost mandatory to have one of those outdoors, but he wasn’t expecting to see a regular bath just a few feet away from it, behind a low rush screen. Although given its size, “regular” was the last word he’d use to describe it. It could easily fit two people, and an image popped into his mind of sharing it with Lucy one evening, with only the moon and the recessed lighting in the decking for illumination.

“Can we use it?”

Her eagerness brought out a desire to tease her. “Right now? I thought you were tired?”

“I am, but before we have to leave…” She ran her hand along the top of the bath he could almost swim lengths in. “Could we…? Together…? Please, Sir.”

He already had a hard-on at the thought. “Any time you want to, baby—after we get some sleep. Would you like anything from room service first?”

“I’m still stuffed from dinner on the yacht, but don’t let me stop you.”

What he was hungry for wasn’t food, but they both needed to rest, for when the real job started. “What I want,” he said, gathering her in his arms and drawing her into a gentle hug, “is to find a huge, comfortable bed in that bedroom, get you into it, and watch you fall asleep.”

The bed was everything he’d hoped for. He tucked Lucy beneath the crisp, white sheets, then sat beside her.

“Is there anything I can get for you?”

She gave him a drowsy, contented smile, and patted the bed. “The only thing I want is you in here with me.”

“I think I can arrange that.” He stroked the stray strands of hair away from her face, then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Sure I can’t get you something to drink? Glass of water? Wine? I think there’s champagne in the fridge.”

During his own research into the resort, Logan had discovered that each bungalow came with its own kitchen.

“No, I’m fine, honestly—thank you.”

“Okay. You get comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, Logan slipped between the sheets and fitted his naked body to Lucy’s. He smiled for a moment at Lucy’s contented sigh, then reality bludgeoned its way into claiming his attention. In just a few hours, he’d have to start asking questions. More than ever, he hoped the alarm over Diana Carstairs’ whereabouts was unwarranted, but gathering strength at the back of his mind was the nightmare that they might be about to open up a can of worms more deadly than any of them had anticipated.

Chapter 14

“What do you want to do for breakfast? We could stay here for the first day, get room service to bring something over?”

Putting the finishing touches to drying her hair, Lucy paused to bask in the sensation of Logan’s lips on her shoulder. Subtle shivers of promised ecstasy tingled over her skin. At his insistence, she was still naked from the shower they’d taken after another bout of sex that had ended with several earth-shattering orgasms.

He liked her naked.

“Tempting though that sounds, Sir, don’t you think it might be a good idea to head for the restaurant, so we can start to get our faces known?”

Logan’s sunny morning disposition clouded over at the reminder of the reason for their presence at the resort. She wondered why.

“You remember what you have to do?”

They’d discussed it under the shower. She hadn’t liked it when he’d told her all he wanted her to do was make some appointments for spa treatments. The “discussion” had lasted long enough for him to mutter something about turning into a prune. Lucy considered herself lucky not to have been put over his knee.