The old woman who owned the place hurried into the room, getting Cory off the hook. “Mr. Trevayne? Is that you? We had a leak in the laundry room, so I’m afraid everything is upside down today. Did you find Miss Neumann?”
“Not yet,” answered Alec, and Cory began to feel really sorry for the guy. Maybe he should tell him, ease some of the embarrassment. Nope. Cory knew how to keep his mouth shut and he had almost no sympathy for the human condition. Let him suffer.
Besides, his loyalty lay with Rebecca at the moment, mainly because she kissed him like it was her last day on earth. It’s not that he had planned on getting laid today, but damn…he hadn’t expected to find her tongue in his mouth, either. Cory wasn’t a big believer in kissing, mouth to mouth was too personal for his sex life, but a woman’s tongue, well, he wasn’t stupid, either.
“I’ll keep my eyes open for you. Good luck with the hunt,” offered Cory, then he left the room. He should get out of this place. Snow or no snow. Leave Rebecca Neumann alone. But what if she needed him? protested his cock. What if she was avoiding the Brit for a good reason? Cory studied the snow falling steadily outside and swore. Then he and his cock took off, heading up the stairs to Rebecca’s room.
Time to get some answers. But nothing else. Absolutely, positively, nothing else.
* * *
The room was everything Mrs. Krause had promised, but Rebecca was too wound-up to notice. She had called Natalie four times on her cell, and each time all she got was voice mail. Natalie wasn’t a big fan of the cell phone, but hopefully she would pick up soon.
Alec Trevayne? Here?
It reeked of Natalie’s handiwork, which was normally a good thing, but now Rebecca wasn’t so sure.
“Alec Trevayne.” She said his name aloud, testing to see if the lip shivers would go away with rational thought.
Nah. Still there.
Her lips tingled, her heart was pounding and her lower nethers were tingling and pounding, all at the same time.
Alec Trevayne. Lust from afar. Bently-laden, Oxford-educated Alec Trevayne. For three months it had been her goal to have Natalie arrange a meet, and now, apparently, she had. He still looked good, and he had a great car, but the old thrill at the idea was no longer, chased away by other, more carnal ideas.
Think, think, think.
She was a schoolteacher. A former schoolteacher with a strong Teutonic streak of practicality, which did nothing to explain why she quietly shrieked when a knock sounded on the door. Rebecca got up from the bed, praying it was Mrs. Krause.
“Who is it?”
“Rebecca, it’s the guy from the mistletoe. Open up.”
Downstairs Alec Trevayne was waiting, perhaps confused, but nonetheless waiting.
For her. Upstairs, right outside this door, was a veritable stranger. If it wasn’t for those eyes…Dark, wounded and, yes, sexy as hell.
Was Rebecca willing to trade a lifetime (possibly) of pedicures and luxury automobiles for one night (possibly) with a man of questionable morals who could kiss a woman to paradise and back?
Yes, yes, yes. After Rebecca opened the door, he strode inside and she was conscious of the clothes strewn all over the bed, the iPod, the portable exfoliator, the hair dryer, the curling iron, the four charging devices and the portable back massager that vaguely looked like something else, but really wasn’t, although in times of crisis, a woman used whatever was on hand. Rebecca sidled in front of the bed, cocking a hand on her hip. “Yes?”
“Who’s the guy that’s looking for you? You ran out of there like you were scared of him. Are you?”
She considered lying, creating a fantastic cover story, but—no. Slowly Rebecca shook her head. “I’m not scared of him,” she admitted.
“Why did you run?” he asked, a perfectly reasonable question.
She licked her lips, opting to hide behind the truth. “Because you were kissing me, and I was temporarily confused.”
He looked at her, frustration evident. Then he looked up at the ceiling in that counting-to-ten posture she had often used herself. “So you’re not afraid of him? I can leave here, and you’ll be fine with him. Right?”
If this had been another man, Rebecca would have assumed a coy demeanor and subtly flirted until she got her way. But he was different from the men in her universe. And he could kiss.
That kiss. That life-altering, mind-shattering, lip-tingling, take-me-to-bed-now kiss. Subtle flirtation was completely unnecessary. She should be crawling under the covers, waiting for him to kiss her into gleeful submission.
Unless she was the only one whose world was rocked?
No way, Mr. Jose.
Rebecca corrected her posture and tilted her head back until she could look him square in the eye. When the dark gaze speared her, she almost caved, but quickly recovered.