Spellbound Falls (27 page)

Oh, what the hell. At this point even sympathy sex was better than none at all. And really, she’d put on her sexiest underwear, dabbed her ancient perfume in all the appropriate places, and shaved her legs and everything. So why not simply relax and go with the flow, seeing how she couldn’t be any more embarrassed if she tried?

“Um, that was the restaurant,” she said, craning to look over her right shoulder as she pointed at the building he was driving past.

“We’ll order in room service… later,” he said, pulling into the parking lot of the only upscale resort on Bottomless Lake—which she knew charged the highest rates in the entire county, even in the off-season.

He stopped under the portico. “Stay put,” he said, shooting her a smile that said he wasn’t worried she was going anyplace. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Olivia waited until he disappeared into the office before she started pushing the red button again. Not that she intended to go anyplace, but it was the principle of the thing. What in hell was wrong with this stupid buckle? Because the more she pushed and tugged and cussed at it, the tighter the damn seat belt got.

She yelped in surprise when his door opened and he got in, causing him to raise an eyebrow as he put the truck in gear.

“There are laws about holding a person against their will, you know,” she said, arching a freshly plucked eyebrow right back at him.

“I am aware of all the laws in your country.” He clicked something in his hand and guided the truck through the electronically opening gate, and then idled down the pine-studded lane past an array of flawlessly detailed, utterly charming cabins.

Olivia slunk down in her seat and watched the gates automatically close behind them in her side-view mirror. Oh
yeah; if Mac wasn’t richer than God he was damn close, because she knew for a fact this illusion of Maine woods camping cost more for one night than she charged for an entire week at Inglenook.

“Several of which make no sense, and most of which I prefer to ignore,” he continued, though for the life of her Olivia couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about. “Oh, look,” he said, his tone provoking. “All their cabins are numbered in sequence. Here we are,” he murmured, turning into the driveway of the very last cabin on the point of land jutting into the southernmost cove of Bottomless Lake.

He shut off the engine, but instead of getting out he set his hand back on the steering wheel and stared through the windshield at the cabin—which looked big enough to sleep ten and had smoke coming out of its fieldstone chimney.

He’d made reservations?

“Ask me, Olivia,” he said quietly. He looked at her, his eyes revealing nothing. “I would prefer to be invited.”

She pulled in a fortifying breath, held it for five pounding heartbeats, and then slowly released it. “I… I want to be with you, Mac.”

Other than his eyes seeming to grow darker and slightly more imposing, she still for the life of her couldn’t read his mood.

“Then go on,” he said, nodding toward her door. “Back your words with action.”

“I—I can’t. My seat belt’s stuck, remember?”

He smiled. “I believe it will unfasten now, if you truly wish it to.”

She frowned, reaching down and pushing the button, only to gasp when the buckle slipped free of the lock. “What the—” Her gaze shot to his. “I swear the damn thing was stuck.”

“Something certainly was,” he muttered, opening his door and getting out.

Olivia opened her own door to get out, but before her feet hit the ground she gave a squeak of surprise when he swept her up in his arms.

“You’ve gotten very noisy all of a sudden for a kitchen mouse,” he said as he carried her up the cabin steps. He stopped at the door and arched a brow. “Which has me curious as to what other sweet little noises you might make,” he murmured thickly, nudging open the door and stepping inside.

Had he just called her a
mouse
?

Only instead of setting her down, he pushed the door closed with his foot, strode over to the large fieldstone fireplace, and set her on her feet in front of it. And then he had to grab her heavy wool coat to hold her steady when Olivia suddenly turned to jelly at the realization that this honest to God was going to happen.

Using his grip on her lapels, he pulled her closer and leaned down, his mouth stopping just shy of hers. “I would know you trust me if you stopped trembling,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “I won’t hurt you, Olivia, I promise.”

She couldn’t stop trembling. “I’m not… I don’t… it’s been a long time for me, Mac.” She gave him a self-deprecatory smile. “And I’m not afraid
of
you but
for
you.”

Instead of kissing her—even though she rose up on her toes to meet him—he cupped her head to his chest with a groan. “Ah, Olivia; sometimes I wonder if you’re not your own worst enemy.”

“Yeah, well, just so you know, I lied to Sophie last night,” she muttered into his sweater. “I didn’t exactly have a whole bunch of boyfriends before I met Keith. And the guys I did date never felt compelled to write
See Olivia Naglemeyer for a good time
on any bathroom walls. Is it hot in here?” she asked, stepping away to unbutton her coat as she finally looked around the cabin. “Good Lord, this place is a museum!”

“Olivia.”

“Everything looks authentic,” she said, tossing her coat on the couch as she rushed to the kitchen alcove. She stopped and brushed her hand over the table with a semihysterical laugh. “This sure as hell isn’t a reproduction.”

“Olivia.”

“Everything we have at Inglenook is junk,” she whispered, turning to him even as she felt her eyes fill with tears. “You’re used to five-star establishments and service, and I can’t even give you… one star,” she finished lamely, spinning away. “Everything we have is just j-junk.”

What
had
she been thinking? She was a nobody bastard orphan from a three-car town down on the coast who didn’t have any business obsessing over a man who paid more for a room for one night than she earned in a month. And she’d stuck him in a forty-year-old cabin with creaky old beds and tilting floors and a roof that leaked every time it rained.

She sure as hell didn’t have any business being
here
, pretending she was pretty and sexy and… and worldly enough to have an affair with him. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to hold Keith’s interest more than a few years before he’d gone looking for a prettier, sexier, worldlier woman.

She flinched when Mac encircled her from behind, and dropped her head when he locked his hands together below her breasts, effectively pinning her arms at her sides. “Are you through?” he whispered against her ear.

She shuddered. “Oh yeah, I’m done.”

“Then I suggest you hold yourself as still as possible,” he said, his hands moving up to the top button on her blouse.

She immediately reached up to stop him. “W-what are you doing?”

“Hush, Olivia.” He pulled her hands down and pressed them to her sides. “I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

She sucked in a deep breath, causing his fingers to brush her breasts on their way back up to her neck, the intimate touch making her shudder again.

“Not knowing anything of your past,” he said, his tone conversational as he undid the top button of her blouse and moved down to the next, “I have no idea when you first developed the notion that hiding in the shadows was preferable to standing in the light.” He moved on to the next button. “And I do hate to destroy your illusion, Olivia, but you haven’t quite managed the art of becoming completely invisible—at least not to me.” He pulled her blouse from
the waist of her slacks and finished undoing the last two buttons. “Your inner light gave you away, little one, and the only star here tonight is glowing with the brilliance of ten thousand suns.”

He pulled her blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor between them. Using his jaw to move her hair out of the way as his hands dropped to the waistband on her slacks, he kissed her neck, making her legs buckle as she moaned in pleasure.

“No, you will stand for me.”

She locked her knees against the onslaught of sensations coursing through her, feeling the zipper on her slacks slide down so slowly she nearly stopped breathing.

“Um, could you be a little less unrushed?” she groaned, trying to push down her slacks and panties at the same time. Because really, now that it was actually happening, she was going to just die if he didn’t hurry up so she could feel all his wonderful strength moving inside her.

He captured her hands again and pressed them against her hips. “Sorry, but I keep my word,” he murmured against the racing pulse on her neck, sending tremors of delicious heat straight to her groin. “Don’t move,” he said, straightening away—though his hands hovered next to her shoulders momentarily before disappearing completely.

Lord, she wanted to spin around and throw herself at him.

No, she wanted to confidently turn around and undress him.

Slowly. Eagerly. Maddeningly unrushed.

Dusk had fallen, the only light in the cabin coming from the blazing fire in the hearth behind them. Olivia watched the shadow of Mac’s body on the wall she was facing as he pulled his sweater off over his head—even as she noticed that her own shadow was completely swallowed up by his. She jumped when she felt the back clasp of her bra suddenly open, and held it to her breasts when he slid the straps off her shoulders.

“Let it fall away, Olivia.”

God help her, she couldn’t. Granted, she was otherwise naked but for the bra covering her breasts and her knee-high socks and slacks gathered at her ankles, but… oh, God, they were at the totally naked part.

Only problem was, no man had seen her naked in more than six years.

She heard Mac sigh, saw his shadow shrugging out of his shirt, and then felt the crisp material settle over her shoulders.

“Slide your arms into the sleeves.”

But that meant she’d have to let go of her bra.

“Are you a tigress or a kitchen mouse?” he whispered.

Did mice and tigers have boobs that headed south on their thirtieth birthday? Because honest to God, she’d swear she’d looked in the mirror one day and found the damn things two inches below her elbows. Why in hell did he think she’d worn such heavy lace armor tonight, anyway?

“Here’s an idea,” she said, addressing his shadow on the wall. “How about if I go into the bedroom and get in bed”—where gravity wouldn’t be an issue—“and you come in two minutes later… um, without
your
clothes on?”

She heard him sigh again, this time hard enough that she felt her hair move.

She gasped when he swept her off her feet and plastered her against his big broad naked chest, just as her shoes fell to the floor followed almost immediately by her dangling pants and panties. Only instead of heading for the nice dark bedroom, he carried her over to the big bright blazing fire. Or more specifically, over to what looked like a thick feather bed topper positioned on the floor in front of it, covered in a deep hunter green sheet.

How in hell had she missed that earlier?

Olivia still continued clutching her bra as he laid her down, worried that instead of going south her boobs would head east and west the moment she let go. She quickly canted one leg over the other, remembering she was naked from the waist down.

Well, except for her stupid,
unsexy
knee-highs.

But she’d had their first time together all planned out, intending to undress in the bathroom, slip into bed while he was doing… something else, and shutting off the beside lamp before he came in, because… well, because she was pretty confident she
felt
a lot better than she looked. Only he’d ruined everything.

God, was that fire bright or was it just her?

He settled on the feather bed between her and the hearth—conveniently putting her in the shadow of his body—and slowly ran a finger down her scorching cheek. “Touch me, Olivia,” he said quietly.

She stopped breathing. Ohmigod, she’d been so self-absorbed with her flaws and insecurities she’d completely forgotten about
Mac
.

She wasn’t the only one who needed to get naked for this to work, and she sure as hell couldn’t be the only one feeling unsure of themselves. Why else would the man have paid a small fortune to give her a romantic evening—right down to a feather bed in front of a blazing fire—if he wasn’t feeling equally desperate to impress her?

And she was ruining the plans
he
had obviously spent the afternoon concocting.