think she’s got that covered,’ Marnie said. ‘Night, Cassie. Night, Tuck. Sweet dreams.’
Cassie glanced at Tuck, who was also smiling.
‘Good night, ladies. See you in the morning.’
Before Cassie could make further comment her ‘friends’ had turned away and she was watching their backs retreat. She hoped that Marnie and Gina would use the time to talk, because it had been awkward between them at the table tonight. Although if the distance between them as they walked was anything to go by it didn’t look like they were ready to bury the hatchet just yet.
She looked at Tuck, and even though he was a good two metres away his aroma wafted her way and she instantly forgot about the animosity between her friends. Her belly tightened and then looped the loop.
‘What’s your room number? I’ll see you to your door.’
The last thing Cassie wanted was to have Tuck anywhere near her room. In fact she’d be perfectly happy never to be anywhere near him again. She was unsettled. Confused.
She was never unsettled. Never confused. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
‘I don’t need you to accompany me to my room,’ she said, taking care as she passed him to keep her distance.
Tuck watched the swing of her ass again for a moment or two, then called after her, ‘My momma would tan my hide if I didn’t see my date to her door.’
Cassie stopped mid-stride and turned to face him. ‘I am not your date.’
‘You sure danced like I was your date.’
Heat flooded her cheeks as she remembered how she’d clung and buried her nose in his clothes, as if he was her own personal scratch-and-sniff jock. Cassiopeia Barclay did not blush—ever! Curious at the strange phenomenon, she brought her palms up to cradle her face.
She cleared her throat. ‘It was…crowded,’ she said defensively, dropping her hands and folding her arms primly.
Tuck’s gaze dropped. Her folded arms had pushed her breasts up and together, exposing a nice curve of bare flesh at the criss-cross front of her dress for his viewing pleasure. Tuck had seen a lot bigger. He’d also seen smaller. Cassie’s looked just about right to him. A perky B cup, he’d hazard a guess.
Tuck grinned. ‘Come on, darlin’, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.’
Cassie shoved her hands on her hips, determined not to let an image of him sprawled in her big hotel bed derail her thoughts. ‘Don’t call me darlin’.’ She mimicked his slow, easy Southern drawl to perfection. ‘And I’m perfectly capable of finding my way to my room. I can count.’
Tuck’s grin broadened. ‘Well, maybe you can help me find my room?’ He scratched his head in the most perplexed manner he could muster. ‘There’s a lot of wings in this place and it does get kind of confusin’ after a hundred, don’t it?’
Cassie rolled her eyes. The man was living proof that evolution could go in reverse. ‘How on earth do you count all those millions that kicking a stupid ball around earned you?’
Tuck shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Got me some bean-counters for that.’
Cassie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was going to be one of those has-been sports stars whose money was all gone in a matter of years because he had a little too much yardage between the goalposts to keep track of it himself. And he trusted too easily.
‘Follow me,’ she said huffily as she headed down the long grand hallway.
Tuck’s gaze ran over the contours of her back and settled on how her dress swung and fluttered with each movement. ‘Your wish is my command,’ he murmured under his breath.
Tuck deliberately took his time, stopping to examine old paintings hanging on the stonework, suits of armour and the antique vases that dotted the magnificent corridor. He kept up a running commentary for Cassie’s sake, purely because it seemed to annoy her.
‘Will you hurry up?’ she said impatiently, looking over her shoulder for the tenth time as he stopped to read the name of the artist of a particularly austere portrait. ‘I have a paper to get to.’
Tuck looked up. ‘You brought work?’ He shook his head at her and tsked as he meandered closer. ‘All work and no play makes Cassiopeia a dull girl.’
Cassie glared at him as they got underway again. ‘Not that I expect you to understand this, but there is nothing dull about auroras on Jupiter.’
‘Auroras?’
‘Yes—you know, like the Aurora Borealis?’ His blank look didn’t seem promising. ‘The Northern Lights?’ she clarified.
Tuck had witnessed the Aurora Borealis in Scandinavia on two separate occasions, but he wasn’t about to disappoint Cassie’s assumptions. ‘Isn’t she some mermaid?’
Cassie sighed. There really was no grain in his silo. He was an empty vessel. ‘No. It’s a real thing. It’s why I’m here. I’m completing my PhD studies at Cornell so next year I can go on a research trip to Antarctica. And Aurora was Sleeping Beauty. Ariel was the Little Mermaid.’
Tuck shrugged. ‘Well, it sounds like a mermaid if you ask me.’ And then he shot her his best goofy grin for good measure.
Thankfully her room approached, and Cassie all but leapt at the ornate doorknob. ‘This is me,’ she said. ‘What did you say your room number was again?’
She’d barely been able to concentrate on anything he’d said. When he wasn’t wandering off like a distracted child or lagging behind to look at things he was right there beside her, weaving his heady scent all around her.
Like he was now.
Tuck smiled. ‘Three hundred and twenty three,’ he said, and watched the fact that he would be sleeping directly opposite her dawn slowly on her face. ‘Howdy, neighbour.’
‘Oh.’ Cassie looked at the door opposite. Too close for comfort. Her highly developed sense of fight or flight kicked in as another dose of his masculinity wafted over her.
‘Right, then,’ she said, fishing in Gina’s glittery clutch purse for her room key and locating it with shaking hands.
The adrenaline. It had to be the adrenaline.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, barely looking at him as she turned away and reached for the door handle, hastily swiping the plastic card through the electronic strip.
The light turned red and she swiped it again, her hands even shakier. Another red light elicited a frustrated little growl from the back of her throat. She needed to get inside her room. Inside was work and logic and focus and sanity.
Out here with Tuck’s quiet presence behind her was insanity. And damnation.
She could feel it pulling at her body with sticky tentacles, drugging her with its perfume, wrapping her up in its heady thrall.
She swiped one more time.
