in the signs—yeah, her blue eyes were deepening, just like the sky above them. She kept that intense eye contact, as if she was trying to see through him. His heart pounded—he briefly wondered if she could hear it, because he didn’t like to be looked at that closely.
‘Promise me something,’ she said with that husky voice that gripped his attention completely. ‘This one night. That’s all. Nothing more afterwards. When we get back to civilisation, we’re back to where we were. Just friends again. That’s the only way this can happen. The fantasy, right?’
‘Why do you keep trying to control this?’
‘I’m not—’
‘This isn’t going to go away unless we deal with it. Your way isn’t working.’
‘One night.’
‘The whole night.’ He pressed his end of the bargain home. ‘Not just once and then sleep. I want literally the whole, damn night.’ Though he feared even that wasn’t going to be enough.
‘All night?’ She paused, her tongue slipping over her lips.
She honestly thought they’d have just the once? Oh, she hadn’t a clue. But she was on the edge. He stepped closer to her, acutely aware of the shifting signals—her shortened breathing, her flush, her almost invisible shiver. Oh, yes, it was going to be more than once. He’d get her over that line again and again. But he needed all night to do it. So they could leave tomorrow as ex-lovers, over this intensity, leaving no burning anxiety left. No more of this desire that had twisted him inside out the last few weeks.
Ellie was embarrassingly close to orgasm just from the suggestion of sex. And only a few steps into the walk to the hut she stumbled.
‘Something’s hurting?’
She shook her head. Nope, it was the unchecked wanton, wicked, desperate thoughts that had caused her loss of co-ordination. ‘I’m fine.’ She just wanted to be at the damn shack already.
He’d stopped and now stared stonily at her. Once more that uptilt of his mouth had flattened out to a thin line. Suddenly he lunged.
‘What are you doing?’ she shrieked.
In a blur and a thud he’d gone in low and hard and she was upside down. His grip was firm but apparently effortless given the pace he was striding up the mountain.
‘What. Are. You. Doing?’ She added some outrage to the question.
‘Stopping you from doing yourself an injury.’
‘Oh, please, this is just you unable to keep your hands off me.’ Oh, yeah, and her excitement had just quadrupled.
‘That too,’ he confirmed, unapologetically running his hand up the back of her thigh and grabbing a handful of her butt.
‘Well, put me down. You’ll do yourself an injury.’ She was no lightweight.
‘We’re nearly there anyway.’
‘Ruben, seriously. I’m getting giddy.’
He squeezed her butt, then shifted, wrapping both arms around her as he slid her down his body to set her on her feet. For a moment she leaned against him, needing that closeness. All her personal space was his and, oh, it was good.
‘Turn around.’ He laughed.
‘How do you expect me to when you’re holding me so tight?’ She was more breathless than he, which was embarrassing given he’d been the load bearer.
He turned her, holding her firm, pulling her body back close against his as soon as he could.
She drew an even deeper breath. ‘That’s the hut?’
‘Uh-huh.’ As he laughed again she felt his chest rumbling against her back.
She smiled too, gazing at the small building, not hiding her amazement. ‘So what are we doing here, glamping?’ Glamour-camping. In by helicopter to a pristine lake and then a little trek to some deluxe boudoir?
‘Hey, it’s hardly five stars—look at the place. It’s tiny and made out of tin,’ he said in mock-defence. ‘But we can get it really warm.’
Oh, she bet they could.
It was tiny, no more than a couple of metres squared. Two-storeyed and on stilts. A beautiful copper coloured tower. He strode ahead, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He unlocked the padlocks on each side and pulled up the shades so they became awnings, revealing the massive windows beneath providing a view as far as the eye could see in each direction.
‘Oh, my.’ Ellie peered in the first window.
There was a log burner on the ground floor, with a pot on the top, a rug, a cupboard with a small amount of supplies—survival food, coffee. No sofa, just a wooden floor and a mountain of cushions. But that was what made it so damn glamorous. The wooden floor was polished, the rug hand woven, the cushions covered with the most expensive fabrics.
‘You bring people here often?’ Oh, she suspected him.
He shook his head. ‘No. Honestly no.’ His smile twisted. ‘Let me get the fire going.’
It already was—a roaring inferno in her belly. ‘You’re not going to rub two sticks together?’
‘Well, you only need one when it’s a match.’
She kicked off her boots, as he did, and followed him inside.
‘I’m guessing trampers and members of the public don’t use this.’ Every single item in the place was carefully selected, chosen for both use and quality, neat and tidy and perfect.
‘No, it’s not on any maps. It’s my little getaway.’
‘It’s pretty amazing.’ She turned around, taking it all in.
He waved a hand, encompassing that tiny space. ‘You really like it?’
‘Absolutely.’ How could anyone not?
He looked boyishly, endearingly pleased. ‘I designed it.’ He coughed. ‘And built it.’
‘Really?’
‘Is that so hard to believe?’ He actually looked self-conscious.
Of course it wasn’t. She suspected he was capable of many things, given all he’d achieved in the last ten or so years. ‘You’ve designed other things?’
‘Just this. It was all I wanted just for me.’
He owned several luxury lodges—massive ones—and he’d built himself a tiny annexe up in the wild heights.
‘Have you brought any other women here?’ She shouldn’t want to know this. Knowing this was irrelevant. But somehow it mattered.
He shook his head and too much satisfaction burned through Ellie’s veins.
‘Truth
