“Hello? Sir?”
Her knuckles ached with the third and fourth knocks, which were loud enough to echo through the hall and disturb the sconces flanking the door.
“Hello! Is anyone in there?”
No answer.
Against policy, she swiped her all-access card. When the light flashed green, she pushed the door open and entered cautiously.
“Sir? This is management,” she called out.
The only response came from pipes overhead, clanking and rattling as water rushed through the antiquated plumbing. She winced, recalling the pipe that burst last winter, almost a year ago. The hotel had shut down for two weeks. The leak was repaired, but their finances never recovered.
“Are you here?” Please be here .
No reply.
She ventured further into the impressive main room of the suite, which maintained its French-Colonial décor from the hotel’s history. Moving past the velvet chaise lounge, Ellie nudged open the closet door. No clothes hanging, no luggage thrown open on the luggage rack. Hopes fading, she entered the master bedroom suite.
There, she froze.
The door to the master bath stood wide open. A cloud of steam hovered in the air, raising goose bumps on her arms. The clean scent of warm towels and tea tree soap preceded the image of male perfection that appeared before her.
Her mouth parted, but no sound followed. She shamelessly stared at the man’s immaculate body. His thick biceps expanded and contracted as he towel-dried his hair. The way his eight-pack abs flexed as he moved. His chiseled muscular chest.
Fingers trembling, she restrained her desire to run her hands along that hard expanse. She melted a little imagining how it would feel to be held by those arms, close to his strength, sheltered from her fears of the future and the pain of the past, his damp naked skin gliding against hers.
Her eyes followed droplets of water that cascaded down his torso, wet trails she envisioned following with her lips. Her attention slid below his waist. She blinked. Her mouth fell open.
Suddenly, every refined muscle in his body went rigid.
Ellie’s gaze snapped up, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. In the next moment, her blood turned to ice.
Piercing gray eyes took her breath away. Turbulent, fierce and compelling, like the ocean during a storm. Like Carter Stratton .
A strangled word wheezed out. “How...?”
The angles of his face softened slightly, but those eyes remained sharp, calculating, like a hawk targeting its prey. Ever so slowly, he slid the towel down from his ruffled hair, drew it along his chest, finally tucking it around his waist. An obnoxiously confident smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.
Was he taunting her?
Ellie didn’t feel mocked, she felt intimidated. He had changed. “Carter, what are you doing here?”
Ignoring the question, he asked, “Is this the new wakeup call?” He stepped toward her, droplets clinging to the spiked ends of his hair. “I think I like it.”
The closer he came, the further she retreated. “This isn’t—I’m not here to—”
“I think you are.”
Her shoulder blades hit the wall.
He didn’t stop until his hands were flattened on either side of her head. “You’re here to pick up where we left off.”
“I didn’t even know you were coming!”
Eyelids lowering, he murmured, “Not yet, but we can work on that.”
“Carter,” she hissed.
He grabbed her chin, angling her mouth up to him. God help her, she wanted him to kiss her. So badly she ached from head to toe. It seemed like ages since she’d felt such a strong sexual response to a man.
Her lips trembled. “I—”
“Why the hesitation? You knew this day would arrive.” His body came up solidly against hers. Ellie stifled a moan. “Remember what I told you twelve years ago?”
She nodded shakily.
“I always keep my promises.”
The instincts of terror and surrender collided inside her. “I know,” she whispered.
“Still, you’re surprised to see me.” His unshaven jaw scraped along her cheek. His breath was warm and tantalizing against her ear. “Why is that, Eleanor Grace Montgomery?”
Ellie cringed at the use of her full name, a burden of expectation few people understood.
Carter pulled back, perhaps interpreting her response as rejection—the way he’d misinterpreted her actions years ago. He thought she’d abandoned him when she told him goodbye. In truth, she was protecting him.
Regardless, his eyes didn’t waver from their target. He didn’t even blink. She shivered.
Chill warning resonated in his voice. “I’m back to take what was denied me.” His grip tightened on her chin. Their lips nearly touched. “Including you.”