Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,69

up. No point.”

“Mom,” Dyma said. “Revenge? Also, there’s a courtyard out there with a private hot tub, and there are waterfalls here, too.”

“They’d freeze,” Jennifer said automatically. Owen had been right. It was cold in New Mexico. Not in here, though. In here, a gas fire was burning in another of those conical fireplaces, and the reds and oranges and yellows and blues in the woven fabrics, the Oriental rug, the walls, were warming her up all by themselves. Not to mention the spicy dark chocolate. She grabbed it from Dyma and got the last bite.

Dyma barely noticed, because she’d picked up a piece of paper from the coffee table. Also because Dyma had the ability not to eat the last bite. Dyma could somehow leave a Snickers bar in the fridge for an impossible length of time and just forget about it. For exactly how long, Jennifer didn’t know, because after a couple weeks, the Snickers bar sang a siren song to her right through the refrigerator door, and she ate it.

“The hot tub is salt water,” Dyma informed her, “and so is the therapeutic pool with the waterfalls. I didn’t even know that was a thing. Too bad we didn’t bring our suits. Also too bad it’s just for one night. The water in the stream is heated, that’s why it doesn’t freeze.” She read some more and put the paper down. “Whoa. This place was in Oprah’s magazine as the best place to spend Christmas. For people who spend Christmas in resorts, that is, which isn’t too much of the population. Tell me again why this is happening.”

Jennifer sat down in an upholstered armchair in front of the fireplace. It had roses on it, because, apparently, why not. Sitting down hurt, but then, moving hurt, too. “I have no idea,” she said. “I know that we shouldn’t expect it to keep happening, though. You are not some … some football groupie. You’re so much more than that.”

Dyma sighed. “Excuse me? I’m the one with all the serious future plans, not the one who … well, let’s see. Whose boyfriend just whisked her away on a private jet, maybe?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jennifer said. “Not even for the night.”

“That’s right,” Dyma said. “Just a random guy flying you to New Mexico so you can stay at a luxury hotel and he can buy you a spa treatment. A mysterious spa treatment. They’ve got a menu for that here, too. Some of this stuff looks a little … extra. Wonder what he decided was good enough for his not-girlfriend who he’s definitely not trying to impress?”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer said, and tried not to be impressed. It wasn’t easy. “I guess I’ll have to wait and see.”

21

Melting

When Harlan knocked at the door of the suite, Jennifer didn’t answer. Dyma did. She was wearing a Pink Floyd T-shirt with her jeans this time. The shirt was faded and tight, like she’d bought it when she was younger—like, for example, fifteen—and her jeans were cut a little low, allowing him to see that her belly button was pierced by a silver barbell with a tiny ring hanging from the bottom stud, just to give Owen something else to stare at. She held the door, tipped her buzz-cut blonde head to one side, letting the longer layers fall free, gestured them into the suite, and informed them, “We’re pretty relaxed in here. Could be dangerous. Mom’s especially relaxed, since you sent over that bottle of wine. I’m not sure she’s made it out of her robe. They have these fantastic bathrobes, like wearing a cloud. I kind of want to steal one, even though I’ve never actually stolen anything.”

“Yeah?” Owen asked. “Tonight your night to be bad? So what was your spa treatment?”

“I had a massage,” she said. “Which Harlan knows, because he booked it. It was pretty amazing. More than an hour long, and they used hot stones on your back, which feels better than you’d think, and played soothing music, and there was a fancy shower room to use afterwards with all these different lotions. Although in fairness, I’m not sure if it was actually amazing or not. It being my first time and all.”

“Yeah?” Owen asked.

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “First time for everything, I guess. I’m lucky mine was that good, huh?” With a sidelong look from those blue eyes that Owen wasn’t going to be great at resisting.

Harlan cleared his throat, and Owen glanced at him and said,