Page 46 of Fake it for Keeps

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COLT

The drive back to the hotel had been quiet. The temperature had plummeted during the hour we’d been in the restaurant. Hallie looked like she was freezing. I found myself wanting to pull her closer. Warm her up.

I didn’t, of course. That would cross a line we’d carefully maintained.

But I thought about it.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, and the second the valet opened the door, arctic air blasted us. We hurried out and made our way upstairs.

When we stepped into our suite, the warmth was immediately welcoming. Hallie went straight to the fireplace, holding her hands out to the flames. I grabbed the remote and cranked up the temperature.

“I’m freezing,” she said, her teeth chattering slightly.

I glanced toward the balcony, where steam was rising from the jacuzzi into the cold night air. An idea formed. It was probably stupid, definitely risky, but impossible to resist.

“You know what would warm you up?” I said casually, shrugging off my jacket. “The hot tub.”

She turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “The hot tub. Outside.”

“Yeah. It’s heated. Perfect for a night like this.”

“Right.” Her tone was dry. “Because nothing helps you get warmer faster than stripping down to a bikini and going outside.”

“Into a hot tub,” I reminded her.

“You just want to get me in a bathing suit.”

I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Hallie, I’m hurt. Here I am, trying to help my freezing fiancée warm up, and you’re accusing me of ulterior motives.”

“Do you have ulterior motives?”

“Absolutely,” I admitted with a grin. “But that doesn’t mean the hot tub isn’t also a good idea.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I’m practical. You’re cold. The water’s hot. Simple math.” I moved toward the bedroom where I’d seen robes hanging in the closet. “Come on, Hallie. When’s the next time you’re going to be at a luxury hotel with a private jacuzzi overlooking the ocean in the middle of winter?”

“I’m here all the time,” she said with a laugh, obviously joking.

I found two plush robes and brought them back out. “Let’s make the most of it. We’ve earned it after that dinner performance.”

She was wavering. I could see it in the way she looked from the balcony to me and back again.

“I don’t know if I even packed a bathing suit,” she said.

“I had Frankie make sure there was one in your bag,” I said. “Along with the dress and everything else.”

“Of course you did.” But she was smiling now, some of her walls coming down. “You really plan everything, don’t you?”

“I like to be prepared.” I held out one of the robes. “What do you say? Twenty minutes in the hot tub, then we’ll call it a night?”

I could practically see her internal debate. Finally, she sighed and took the robe.

“Fine. Twenty minutes. But if you try anything⁠—”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” I interrupted. “Scout’s honor.”