Souvenirs (5 page)

She snuggled closer, and he forced himself to silence as he tried to think about anything other than the way her body curved into his. She fidgeted in his embrace. God, she smelled good, and it felt . . . right to hold her like this.

“I’m afraid of how I feel when I’m around you because it makes me worry about how I’m going to feel when I’m
not
around you.” She gained momentum. “And then I think that’s nonsense because I’ve only known you three days, and in two weeks we’ll go back to our own lives, and I have no idea how you feel about this whole thing.”

Ben tilted her chin so she could see his face, and ignored his quaking knees. “I woke this morning, looked in the mirror, and told myself I was
not
going to touch you today. I was going to stay close to you, talk to you, get to know you, let you get to know me, but I was not
under any circumstances
going to hold your hand, kiss you, touch you.” His hands tightened on her in evidence of his lack of willpower.

He kissed her, warming her lips, teasing and testing their softness, growing hungrier as she joined in the play. Ben curved her against him, craving the softness she offered.

Her hands left his waist, letting the cold in, only to banish it when she ran one hand up his chest and curved the other around his neck, grazing the skin under his collar. She stopped trembling and her soft hands became more confident. His breath came in gulps as she tempted his tongue into her mouth, drawing against it as her groan shook him all the way to his fingertips.

Leaving her lips, Ben trailed his mouth along her jaw and down her neck, savoring the taste and texture of her skin and her whimpers of pleasure. The path back to her ear was just as torturous.

“Christ, Grace. You scare the hell out of me.”

She pulled away, need glazing her eyes as she shared his labored breaths. He couldn’t resist rolling his hips against her, proving exactly what she did to him. Her corresponding moan almost unwound his good intentions. He gave her one more thorough kiss. “We might as well be frightened together, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” she whispered. A slow smile spread across her face.

“Thank God.” He stepped behind her so they could watch it rain. Anchoring his arms around her waist, he resisted the temptation to push her against a tree, and . . .
Careful, Ben. You can’t continue down that trail
. “What’s your safe word?”

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. The thoughts filling his head tightened his skin.
Wrong, so, so wrong.
“You know what I mean.”

“Sod off, Bennett.” Her laughter ruined her attempted impersonation. “That’ll make you disappear like a demon dipped in holy water.”

“Brilliant. No more thoughts of scarpering unless you can’t stand the sight of me.”

As the rain fell, her shivers stopped. Her hips relaxed before her spine sagged. Her head dropped to his shoulder and curved into his neck. The rain dripped from the leaves while the lightning created a fabulous show across the darkened sky. The moisture called forward a musky, not unpleasant, smell of wet vegetation and dirt. Tucked away as they were, he could pretend they were the only two people in Vienna.

“What’s your Christian name, Idgie?”

She shook her head, her hair tickling his chin.

“Gra-ace.”

“It won’t help to whine, sweetheart,” she said.

“A hint?”

“Let’s just say you’re not the only person named after a fictional character.” She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “It’s stopped raining. We’d better make a run for the bus.”

Once on board, they found seats facing the Cains. Nora shivered in Adam’s arms, and Ben battled the seat belt to pull Grace closer. “I could ask them to shut off the air,” he offered.

She shook her head, pulling her hair loose. “No sense for everyone else to suffer.”

Her hair smelled like apples and her skin held the scent of rain. Her nipples were stiff again, and her makeup was gone. Wet hair, clean skin, as if she’d freshly showered. Trembling, like she needed him to warm her. Ben unhooked her seat belt and pulled her close. Her sigh both chilled his skin and heated it.

Sunny came to his side, standing in the aisle. “Grace, we’re joining the Greers and their group tonight. Would you like to go with us?”

Grace snuggled deeper into his side and pulled his arm tighter around her shoulders. “I’ll be up to shower and change, but I think Ben and I are going to dinner.”

Sunny patted his shoulder as she walked away. “You make sure she’s warm.”

Adam stared down the aisle. “I’ll bet she’s a handful.”

“She keeps me on my toes,” Grace confirmed.

Ben stroked her shoulder, earning another shiver on top of all the others, and making him think of kissing her. They were starting down a dangerous path. Maybe he could head them off.

“Would you two like to join us for dinner?” he asked Adam and Nora.

“Please do,” Grace encouraged.

The Cains accepted, and they spent the rest of the drive making plans. Once at the hotel, Ben kept Grace close until they reached her floor. She patted his hand with icy fingers as she stepped off the elevator. “Go get warm. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few hours.”

He walked to his room, his feet squishing in his shoes and cold water trailing from his shirt collar down his spine. Without her distraction, he was freezing. Warm shower, dry towels, dry clothes. Heaven.

His mother was perched on the edge of the bed, waiting on him.

“Get your shower dear, then we need to talk.”

Chapter 5

In warm sweats and a soft t-shirt, Ben rubbed the rough towel over his still-cold head, hoping to get dried before the room A/C kicked on. He walked around the corner, wincing as he banged his elbow on the doorframe. “What’s up, Mum?”

“Why don’t Sunny and I room together?”

He dragged the towel to his shoulders. “Huh?”

“We’ve discussed it, and we think it would be a great solution.”

She’d always surprised him, but this was too much. “Do you know what you’re suggesting?”

“Bennett,” she laughed, “you’re almost forty years old. I don’t believe you’re celibate.”

“What about our vacation?”

“We can still have a lovely time together,” she assured him, “but you have to admit you’d rather be with Grace. And I’m having an excellent adventure with Sunny.”

“Can you imagine what my life would do to her?”

“You aren’t an international spy. She’s not in mortal danger.”

“No. It’s just putting up with me while I prepare for a role, followed by months alone while I’m on location. Then there are interrupted dinners, photographers, and an occasional unruly horde on a red carpet. Oh, and let’s not forget the knickers in the post.”

“You’re not doing any of that in the next two weeks, and I don’t see why it’s a problem in the first place.”

“Mother, you can’t tell her.”

“Of course not,” she assured him. “I think you’re doing her a disservice by not giving her a chance to make up her own mind, but I won’t out you.”

As if the matter were settled, she went into the bathroom to get ready for dinner, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts. He walked to the window. What the hell was he supposed to do? Roll his suitcase to her door and knock?
Mum sent me. Fancy a shag?

The angel on his shoulder cautioned him.
She deserves better than a lie.

The devil on the other shoulder disagreed.
You’re lying to her now.
If you’re going to lose her anyway, what would it hurt to enjoy the next few days?

Ben rested his head against the window and let the cool, smooth surface calm his brain. His body responded to the thought of sharing his bed with Grace.
Maybe it would get her out of my system.

The boy in him reeled at the thought of his mother knowing what was going on. Worse, if his mother knew then Sunny would know. Dear God, that would be too much.

Surely the free-wheeling southerner wasn’t game for her daughter to . . .

This had to be his mother’s doing.

Any curiosity about Sunny’s involvement in the plot vanished the moment he saw Grace in the lobby. She blushed to her hairline, and he practically had to arm wrestle her for the chance to hold her hand.

“Are you okay?” he whispered when Adam and Nora were distracted in the cab.

“I’m embarrassed,” she hissed. “I feel like Katherine in
The Taming of the Shrew
. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“It wasn’t just her.”

Ironic. He’d met a girl, and his mother had made a hash of it before he could. The relationship was on the verge of collapse faster than it had begun. Twenty-four hours had to be a record. Fe would never let him live it down. She’d make him a commemorative t-shirt for Christmas.

For the rest of the evening, he stayed close to Grace without hovering, touched her but didn’t linger, asked her opinion about everything. He had to fix this.

By the time she and Nora went to powder their noses, she was relaxed and he was a wreck. Staring into his drink, he heaved a deep sigh.

“What gives?” Adam asked.

“Umm.” Ben rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Our mothers volunteered to swap so Grace and I could share a room.”

Adam choked on his drink. “Those are a couple of understanding mothers.”

“Yeah,” Ben sighed, “and it’s left me feeling like I’m a dragon waiting to devour the sacrificial virgin.”

Adam sat his glass aside. “There’s a visual I didn’t need.”

Hot, sweaty, naked, tasting her skin, feeling her body give beneath me.
Ben shifted in his chair. “Me neither.”

The other man didn’t say anything for several minutes, but he squirmed like he was sitting on tacks. He chewed his lip and looked over his shoulder, only to twist back. “We know who you are,” he blurted.

Ben froze.
Bollocks.

“Nora knew first,” Adam bashed on. “She’s seen a few things you’re in, and she’d kill me if she knew I was telling you.”

Nora knew? Grace was alone with her. He was screwed.

“Adam, mate, this is—”

“Everyone deserves a vacation. It’s not our story to tell, and I don’t believe everything I read.”

Ben ran his fingers down the sides of his whiskey tumbler. “If you’ve read any of it, you know why I’m worried.”

“She might take it better than you think,” Adam encouraged him. “She might even surprise you.”

In the ladies room, Grace stared at Nora’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her tattoo peeked from under the edge of the shrug covering her strapless dress while she bounced enough to jiggle her earrings.

“And?” Grace whispered.

“And what? It’s not our secret to tell.” Nora’s grin morphed into a full smile. “But I have to admit it’s cool. Adam’s a huge fan. Given half a chance he’d pump you for plot points until you ran screaming.”

Grace turned a panicked gaze toward the door. She’d left Adam alone with Ben. Adam knew.

“He won’t say anything,” Nora reassured her.

“Really?”

“He’s a minister, they’re used to secrets. Besides, he’s more worried about pissing me off on our honeymoon. What are you going to do about your mother’s offer?”

If he’s half as good at sex as he is at kissing
. . . Grace shoved the visions from her brain, closed her purse, and stood. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“Dreamy guy, romantic cities, room service.” Nora opened the door. “It could be wonderful.”

The suggestion tempted Grace as they left the restaurant and walked through Vienna. Things had been going so well. How on earth was she going to get her mother’s foot dislodged from
her
mouth? The imagined conversation was just as embarrassing.
Grace isn’t going to meet a guy unless he has car trouble in the driveway. If Ben’s game, why not?
Couldn’t Mom have let it happen on its own?

Then again, it had been happening on its own. His hand was warm in hers, and his quiet voice tickled her skin as they whispered in conversation. She couldn’t imagine the rest of the cities being any better than this.

Would waking with him be as good as spending the day with him? Did he snore? Hog the covers? Would they get tired of each other? Then what? This was too fast.

They passed a park where an orchestra congregated in the amphitheater. All the musicians were in casual clothes and a crowd had gathered. Some were sitting in the seats provided, others were lounging on quilts while they enjoyed picnics.

Ben led her to a vacant seat in the theater’s bowl. Adam and Nora sat on their other side. As the orchestra tuned, the couple behind them offered red wine in paper cups.

The conductor came to the stand, his hair poking wildly from under a stocking cap. The crowd quieted, and the opening strains of Rimsky-Korsakov’s
Scheherazade
reached for the stars.

Under the combination of the music and Ben’s nearness, Grace’s stress dissolved. Her fingers wound through his as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. “This is the perfect way to leave Vienna.”

“It is.” His cheek rested against her hair as the music drifted over them with the breeze. “I’ve been thinking.” He drew in a deep breath and expelled his thought in a rush. “If our mothers are telling us they’d enjoy their vacation more without us—”

She yanked her head up and heard his teeth clack together.

He rubbed his jaw and smiled. “If you’re opposed to it, then of course not.”

“Ben—”

His kiss stopped her protest by stealing her breath. Looking for balance, she slid her hands under his jacket and his muscles rippled under her palms while his soft groan melted her bones. When his tongue teased her bottom lip, Grace resented the crowd surrounding them. Every time he kissed her, the need increased.

“Stay with me,” he whispered. His breath heated her skin, and his eyes glowed in the dark. “We could start in Salzburg.”

She wanted to call the heat under her skin a blush, but when it spread throughout her body she relented. It was anticipation. Kissing his cheek, she ran her thumb along his stubbly jaw. “Yes.”