No Stranger to Scandal - By Rachel Bailey Page 0,42
could. That fact wasn’t in question. What she needed to decide was whether she should go. Hayden’s hands slipped down to her waist and, nudging the edge of her blouse up, found bare skin just above her skirt. The delicious heat started to rise, and all reservations about going away with him evaporated.
“Okay,” she said, swaying against him. “But no more telling me what you think I want to hear. Promise you’ll just say what you mean.”
“Promise.” His lips moved across her cheek and captured hers in a kiss that was as much a vow as his word had been.
* * *
As the check-in receptionist at the Fields Chalet handed over the keys to her suite, Lucy smiled and thanked him, then moved aside so Hayden could check in to his suite. A buzz of excitement had been building deep in her belly since they’d left D.C. On the flight, and at both airports, she and Hayden had acted as if they had only a professional relationship, a charade they were keeping up for now.
She glanced around the foyer, all thick wooden poles and soaring glass panes showing the spectacular mountain view beyond. She’d been to Fields to ski in the past, but had always stayed in her aunt’s villa on the mountainside, which was kept fully stocked, so she hadn’t strayed into town. Since Hayden needed to interview people in the old township, they’d booked into this high-end chalet on the main street. Its grand opulence could have seemed out of place a few doors down from the feed store and across the road from a sawdust-and-peanut-shells tavern, but the chalet had landscaped the area between the road and the front door to create a buffer between the two worlds of Fields.
In the years the president had gone to school here, it had been a sleepy town of ranching families and local businesses, but over time that had changed. The rest of the country, including Lucy’s own aunt Judith, had discovered the stunning skiing and snowboarding location and development had soon followed. Now Fields was a hybrid of the charming old town and shiny new developments.
Hayden came up behind her and she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. Not touching him during the trip had been a special kind of torture.
“Would you like me to help you to your room?” he asked politely, taking her carry-on suitcase.
“Thank you,” she said in the calmest voice she could muster. “That’s very kind.”
They set off for the elevators, her body vibrating with the need to feel his skin under her fingertips, his mouth on hers. Hayden hit the button for the elevator, and in the partly secluded alcove, he dared to let the desire in his gaze flare to life.
“I hope you don’t have plans once you reach your room, Ms. Royall,” he said, his voice low.
A shiver raced across her skin. “Something in mind?”
“Hell, yes,” he said as the doors whooshed open.
As soon as they’d entered and the doors closed out the world, she turned to him. “Hayden—”
Before she could get any other words out, he’d pushed her against the wall, his hips pressed against hers, and claimed her mouth. Everything inside her melted and she dropped her handbag to the floor so she could use her hands to touch him—shoulders, biceps, neck, wherever she could reach. Under her fingers, his body shuddered, which only made her belly tighten even more, made her want him more. She arched her back, bringing her hips into closer contact with his, and was just considering pulling his shirt from his trousers when a chirpy bell sounded and the doors opened.
Hayden groaned as he pulled away. “I couldn’t wait another second.” He thrust a hand in front of the closing door to keep it waiting for them. “That trip was far too long—being so close, but not being able to kiss you.”
She swallowed, trying to get her voice to work. “And now there’s the walk from this elevator to our rooms. Yours or mine?”
“Your room, my room, I don’t care.” He cupped her chin and gave her bottom lip a butterfly-light caress with his thumb. “As long as it’s a room with a bed.”
She trembled with anticipation. “Then my vote is for the closest one.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Race you.”
He stepped out of the elevator, holding the doors open until she’d picked up her handbag and followed, then he strode down the hall, carrying both the bags, faster than her legs