himself. He pulled out a blue wrap dress with long sleeves. It looked like something she’d wear to a cocktail party. “We don’t really have office attire in the guest shop.”
“It’s lovely and very kind of you to bring it.” Now please leave.
“And we found some sandals that almost match.” He pulled out a pair of dark blue glittery sandals and looked at her with a wry grin. “Not exactly the right look for the office, but better than being barefoot, right?”
She had to laugh. “My boss would have a heart attack.”
“We won’t tell him.”
“It’s a her.”
“We won’t tell her, either.” He looked at her for a moment, eyes twinkling, then frowned slightly. “You look totally different with your hair down.”
Her hands flew to her hair. At least she’d blow-dried it. “I know. I don’t ever wear it down.”
“Why not? It’s pretty. You’re pretty.”
She blinked. This was totally unprofessional. Of course, nothing about this situation was professional. She was standing here in her bathrobe—in his bathrobe—in his hotel that she’d explicitly said she wouldn’t stay in. And now he was giving her gratuitous compliments? “Thanks.”
She felt that stupid smile creeping over her mouth again. Why did this man have such an effect on her? Think about computational volatility in Excel spreadsheets. Imagine him cheating on his taxes. Imagine him...
Her imagination failed her as his mouth lowered hotly over hers.
Heat rushed through her, to her fingers, which were suddenly on the soft cotton of his T-shirt. She felt his hands on her back, his touch light and tender. His tongue met hers, sending a jolt of electricity to her toes. Oh, goodness. What was happening? Her brain wouldn’t form thoughts at all, but her mouth had no trouble responding to his.
The stubble on his chin scratched her skin slightly as the kiss deepened. His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in their embrace. As her chest bumped against his, her nipples were pressed into the rough texture of the bathrobe and sensation crashed through her. She dug her fingers into the roping muscle of his back, plucking at his T-shirt as their mouths moved together.
A humming sound startled them both and they broke the kiss. “My phone,” he murmured, low. He didn’t reach for it. Still frowning slightly, he raised a thumb and smoothed a strand of hair from Constance’s cheek.
She blinked, wondering what had just happened. And why? “I really must...” She wasn’t even sure what she really must do. Go to bed? Take a cold shower? Throw herself out the window? Heat darted through her body, and she didn’t know how much longer her knees would hold her up without his strong arms around her.
“Take your aspirin. I’ll see you in the morning.” He hesitated, phone still vibrating in his pocket. An expression of confusion crossed his face and he shoved a hand through his wet hair. “I’ll call a local dealership about replacing your car keys first thing.”
“Thanks.” The word was barely audible, but it was a miracle she managed to force it out at all. He walked backward a couple of steps, gaze still riveted on hers, before he nodded a goodbye and strode to the door.
As it slid quietly shut behind him, she stood there, mouth open, knees still trembling. Had he really just kissed her? It didn’t seem possible. Maybe she’d imagined it. In fact, maybe she’d dreamed up this whole crazy scenario while sleeping fitfully in her lumpy bed at the Cozy Suites Motel. A fire and a kiss in one night? Impossible.
She pinched herself and it hurt. That wasn’t good. Maybe she should throw herself out the window. A desire to gulp in cool night air made her hurry to it, but it was one of those big modern ones that didn’t open.
Probably a good thing. She looked out and could see nothing but dark woods barely illuminated by a cloud-shrouded moon.
She’d grabbed him, fisting her hands into his T-shirt, and clawed at his back. Had she totally lost her mind? Her breath came in heaving gasps and blood pounded in her veins.
It had been a very long time since she’d kissed anybody. Since anyone had kissed her, or even shown the slightest interest in doing so. Her one and only boyfriend, Phil, had broken up with her right before they graduated from college. Four years together, sustained by promises of marriage and family and happily ever after, and he’d simply told her that he wasn’t ready and he was moving to Seattle without her. Her parents would die—or they’d kill her, or both—if they knew she’d given Phil her virginity outside the sanctity of marriage. They’d blame her for throwing herself away and point out that of course he wouldn’t want to marry a woman like that.
The pain and shame of it all was achingly fresh even after six years, so she tried not to think about it.
And now something like this? She could taste John’s lips on hers, his tongue winding with hers, and the memory made her heart pulse harder. She couldn’t even blame him. She couldn’t swear that he’d even started the kiss. It had just happened. And it had happened all over her body, which now hummed and throbbed with all kinds of unfamiliar and disturbing sensations.
She’d lost her clothes, her car keys and now her mind. How would she ever get to sleep now?
“Thanks for picking everyone up last night, Don.” John leaned back in his chair in the hotel restaurant and brushed croissant crumbs from his fingers. “I know I interrupted your hot date.”
“Anything for you, John. You know that.” His uncle sipped his coffee. “Though why you feel the need to help a bunch of total strangers, I don’t entirely know.”
John shrugged. “Nowhere else for them to go. And Constance Allen was with them.” His lips hummed slightly at the sense memory of their kiss. He hadn’t planned it, and the chemistry between them had taken him by surprise.
Don put his cup down with a bang. “What? I didn’t see her.”
“I brought her in my car.” He schooled his face into a neutral expression.
“So she’s here, right now, in the hotel?” His uncle’s eyes widened. “And you didn’t even tell me?”
John sipped his coffee. “I’m telling you right now.”
Don’s long, narrow mouth hitched into a half smile. “Did you put a move on her?”
“Me?” He raised a brow noncommittally. He didn’t want to give Don the satisfaction of knowing. And he hadn’t kissed her to please anyone but himself.
Don laughed and slapped his hand on the table. “You kill me. I bet she’ll look like a startled rabbit today. Heck, she looked like one yesterday.”
John frowned. “You need to stop making assumptions about people, Don. I’m sure she has a lot of dimensions you know nothing about. At the fire last night, for example, she kept her cool and was very helpful. Nothing like a startled rabbit.”
Don
