Last Name - Dr. Rebecca Sharp Page 0,38

at the water and being swept up in the waves.

I knew how I felt about her. I knew I didn’t want things to end between us. I knew what we had was special.

And if telling my family the truth about Lynn was what it would take to protect Carrie from her machinations, then that’s what I would do.

Because I wasn’t going to risk losing her.

As the final part of the tour concluded, our private group had been allowed to wander the open rooms of the Vikingsholm mansion perched at the mouth of Emerald Bay.

The walk down the long drive led back to the courtyard where we’d lost most of the group to lake activities while Suz, her parents, Kathleen, and I decided to take the tour of the old home.

There was also a pretty spectacular waterfall off a trail behind the house, which was the other sight I’d heard so much about—and recommended to so many guests—but had never seen myself. With that in mind, I’d come dressed in tight active shorts and an oversized tee—one that just happened to be the one given to all the staff when Arden Corporation took over the casino. On the one hand, it made it clear I was here on a partially-professional level. On the other, the name Arden was branded across my chest like a name badge.

Ironically.

We passed the numerous garage bays housed under grass-thatched roofs originally planted with wildflowers and containing their own sprinkler system. Adjacent to the garage were the quarters where the hired help had lived.

The aptly named structure was built by an eccentric millionaire who’d purchased the land and then traveled to Scandinavia to research the style of the house she wanted built.

The gray façade was made of mortar embedded with granite boulders, accented with richly carved, hand-hewn wood timbers that rose and arched along the doors and windows. Various small wooden enclaves jutted off the main structure, giving character and additional space to the castle of Lake Tahoe.

And the interior was just as Norse-inspired.

My eyes continually wandered over the delicate paintings, Nordic fireplaces, and the two carved dragons that hung from the living room ceiling.

It was as though the owner had attempted to transplant a perfect example of Nordic architecture on Lake Tahoe.

A faint smile crept over my lips. It reminded me of Vegas. Not in the flashy, gaudy way. But once again, I found myself transported to a different place in the world.

“Carrie.”

A tingle arced up my spine.

A place where James still was.

I half-turned, meeting his electrifying stare before letting it drop over him, unsure if I was just imagining his presence.

He was dressed in a company tee not too different from mine, along with shorts and sneakers. Heat pooled in my stomach, the shorts reminding me of his swimsuit, and his swimsuit reminding me of what was hard and eager for me beneath it.

He wasn’t supposed to be here, yet I wasn’t surprised to see him.

Maybe because I’d hoped he would be.

“Hi.” I turned, my sneakers shuffling on the century-old wood floor. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“We need to talk.”

“James, I—” I broke off with a sharp inhale as he closed the space between us and slanted his mouth over mine, completing the unfinished thought from our conversation in his office yesterday.

I couldn’t resist. And I didn’t want to.

With a small moan, I melted into him. My hands curled into the fabric of his t-shirt where it was stretched over his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin underneath the thin shirt.

Encouraged by the sound, he deepened the kiss until I lost all sense of space and surroundings except in relation to him.

There was a shuffle followed by thuds and we broke apart just as the rest of the tour group filtered into the room.

“James!” Suz exclaimed. “You’re here.”

“I told you,” Lars mumbled to her with a wink as I turned my head away to hide my blush. “Did we interrupt something?” he asked cheekily.

“No—”

“Yes—”

I glared at James for replying in the affirmative while his family chuckled.

“Well, then.” Lars raised his hands with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Might I recommend the bedrooms upstair—”

He broke off as Suz swatted him with a huff. “We’re going to go check out the kitchen.”

Grabbing his arm, she pulled him behind her, but not before Lars turned over his shoulder and whispered to us, “Hopefully, there aren’t any knives in there.” He made a frightened face. “It was nice knowing you.” He laughed even as he