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“What do we do now?” She tried to dispel the explicit images she’d conjured moments before.

“Options are to wait in the ferry terminal for the next available ferry or look for a hotel room. Peter’s right. This early in the season, getting a room shouldn’t be a problem.” He proposed a simple solution.

My decision to make.

A hotel. Her mind caught in a loop, continuously scrolling distracting images, while she fought to remind herself he was asking her opinion about a sensible next step, not propositioning her.

A moment in time. Her responsibilities discharged for now, no one waiting for her, looking for her, relying on her. Not carefree, but the closest she’d been to it in years. Maybe the bad weather was an omen?

The opportunity to take a few more hours with Hamish, to absorb the enormity of her feelings. She wasn’t a giddy teenager, but her acute awareness of him, and her love, was too new and precious to stay trapped by a downfall in a car in a ferry terminal.

“It’s been a long day. Let’s try a hotel.” A sensible answer reflecting a momentous decision for Lela.

He did a quick search on his phone. “The Grand looks like the best option. It’ll get us out of this traffic jam.”

The car park, ten minutes later, looked worryingly full.

“Wait here.” He made a dash from the car to the lobby.

Releasing a long slow breath, Lela’s stomach flip-flopped again as she followed him with her gaze, smiling when he paused on the doorstep to shake off the rain before entering the hotel.

When she’d dreamed of her mythical hero, of having him arrive one day in her life when she was free of responsibilities, her half-remembered dreams included a man who’d seduce both her body and her mind. Hamish’s sheer animal magnetism had her heart racing, even while she adored his commitment to his work. Common cause had brought them together. Sheer coincidence they’d found more. Their quest over, tonight they were free to write their own script.

“They’ve been rushed in the last fifteen minutes.” He dropped into the seat beside her. “There’s a five-hour shutdown. There’s one room left, a luxury king, which they claim has a bed the size of a football field. I’ve taken it, but we can let it go if you’re not comfortable.”

Dismay held her silent. The promise of a long, getting-to-know-you, romantic evening ending with an invitation for Hamish to join her in her room vanished before her eyes.

“How about I buy you a coffee in the lounge while we get some more information?”

Lela nodded, afraid her voice would betray her disappointment.

“You make a run for it first.”

She shook herself at the door like a shaggy dog, spraying water in all directions. He did the same. Damp, but grinning by the time they were inside, Lela sensed a new tension replacing the awkwardness of the car, matching the steam rising off their clothes in the hothouse atmosphere of the hotel. Lela flashed a smile she knew was tentative, in recognition that entering the hotel had shifted the balance of events.

Crowds spilled from the bar into the lobby. People, like themselves, seeking shelter from the storm. The vibe was a mix of frustration, anger and resignation, with hands gesticulating and voices raised then lowered as questions were asked and answered.

“The queue of parked cars and trucks already in the terminal will likely fill the first few ferries.” Hamish returned from his own fact-finding mission. “Coffee or something stronger?”

“Probably both.”

“Quick.” He pointed. “That couple’s just moved.” He commandeered two chairs at the end of a bar and a harried waiter took their order. Fragments of conversation floated past them, further confirmation of Hamish’s assessment, if she’d needed any proof.

Her hesitation had nothing to do with logic. Logic demanded they stay the night. Camping in the ferry terminal or the car until crossings resumed wasn’t a real alternative. A luxury hotel room compared to at least six or more hours of discomfort. Pure temptation was being dangled in front of her, and a lifetime of boundaries urged caution.

“Anenormousbed,” he’d said.

A single room.

She loved him. Her heart skittered against her ribcage, and she admitted to herself she wanted very much to make love with him.

Hedidn’t know that. And she didn’t know if his ignorance made her decision easier or harder to make. Possibility, probability, hope.

The waiter’s arrival with coffees and a bottle of wine allowed a few more minutes where the decision might have gone either way. While the waiter filled their glasses, Hamish smiled, clearly guessing her dilemma and giving her the freedom to choose.

“What’s worrying you.” His thumb and forefinger brushed the frown from her forehead. “If it’s absent nightclothes, I can offer you a spare T-shirt. My gym bag’s in the boot of the car. Bathrobes come with the room.”

“Big, fluffy white ones that cover you from head to toe?” She focused on the new image. Would he find terry-towelling alluring?