Page 10

CHAPTER 9

AMELIA

My stomach is in my throat as Tristan takes a curve at a high rate of speed. The way I’m situated on the back of his bike, I can’t see much, and if I just glance, it looks like we’re about to plunge right into the sea. It’s enough to make me squeal and giggle, all at the same time. He looks back at me, but he’s wearing a full-face helmet like I am, so there’s hardly anything I can see. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I hold on tightly, probably too tightly.

Who am I kidding? I’m allowed to touch his body, hang on to it, press myself up against him as we ride down the coastal highway. No one knows who we are, there’s not a huge motorcade following us or preceding us. Parker is a few car lengths back in a Range Rover, and for all intents and purposes, this feels very much like a date.

There’s a crossing that we have to stop at. I use the moment to catch my breath.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he straightens up, putting his feet on the ground. One hand goes to his thigh, the other goes to where my fingers are clasped around his waist. He covers mine with his warmth and gives a slight squeeze.

“I love this!”

“Do you really?” He turns so that he can look at me.

“Yeah.” I nod. “This is a lot more fun than I thought it would be. Thank you so much for bringing me.”

“It’s truly my pleasure.” He lifts his hand up, giving me a squeeze just above my elbow. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I smile brightly, even though he can’t see it. This is the best time I’ve had, maybe ever.

He hits the gas a little harder, causing me to squeal again and grasp him tighter around the waist. After riding for a little while longer, we come to a stop again.

“Are you getting hungry?”

After he mentions it, I realize I’m hungrier than I thought I was. My stomach growls loudly, but hopefully I’m the only one who can hear it. “Starving,” I admit.

“There’s a nice little fish and chips place up here.” He points a little way up the road we’re on. “Do you want to stop there?”

“I would love to.”

Minutes later we’re stopping, Parker pulling in behind us. As we get off the bike, he hands Tristan a hat. To me, he doesn’t look much differently, but to people who aren’t used to seeing him in a hat, it’s definitely enough of a disguise. “You should be fine,” Parker tells me. “The only way people have seen you is completely dressed up, and they won’t expect you to be wearing biker gear.”

For the first time I notice Parker isn’t dressed in a suit, like normal. He looks very much like a normal guy just enjoying a day. “After you.” Tristan opens the door for me .

Walking inside, I see that it has views much like the house we’re staying in off the ocean. Together we walk up to the counter to order. I almost giggle, because it strikes me as funny that Tristan is doing something so everyday normal as ordering his own food. I’m not sure why, but it does.

“What do you want, Lia?”

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head to rid it of my thoughts. “What did you order?”

“The fish and chips I was telling you about.”

“Then I’ll have the same,” I order.

“Do you want a pint?” The lady taking our order questions both of us.

I’m feeling a little like living on the edge. Tristan declines while I say, “Why the hell not?”

He chuckles beside me. “Whatever the lady wants.”

When they give him a total, I realize I’ve never seen him pay for anything before, and I’m interested in if he carries a credit card like the rest of the world. I also wonder what I’m supposed to do if I need to buy something somewhere. The question is answered as he slips some cash out of a wallet I didn’t even know he carried. My pint is placed in front of me, along with what he ordered, and we walk quickly to a corner booth, Parker sitting not too far from us. We scoot in next to each other, me crossing my legs, even though it’s not considered proper, him putting his free hand on my thigh. I take a drink of the ale, and then offer Tristan a small smile. The leisurely way he’s running his fingernail up and down my jeans sends little sparks of awareness through my body.

“What?” he asks, smiling back at me, the edge of his mouth tilting up in a sexy as hell grin.

“Nothing.” I take another drink. “I just wondered how you would pay. Like do you have a credit card? Do I have a credit card?”

He chuckles, deep and loud. “Do you think people just hand me things?”

I lean in, cutting my eyes at him under my lashes, whispering softly. “I mean, maybe you haven’t heard or not, but you’re about to be king. You kinda do get handed what you want.”

“Do I?” He tilts his head closer to me. “Because I’ve wanted you since the first night I saw you, and you have to be handed to me.”

“Maybe you haven’t been asking in the right way.” I flirt with him, feeling freer than I ever have with him.

Our food is placed in front of us with a flourish. “Prepare to eat some of the best food you’ve ever tasted,” he tells me as he dips the fried fish in malt vinegar and holds it up to my mouth.

When I bite down, tasting the flakiest, freshest fish I’ve ever had, I know he’s telling me the truth.

“Eat up, Lia. I think you might need your strength later.”

His eyes burn a darker shade than they normally are, and I know without a doubt, exactly where this is going.

“It’s going to storm,” Tristan yells behind his shoulder later on in the day. “But we’re only about five miles from home. Might get wet, because I want to get home safe.”

“I’m good with that,” I answer as I hold on tightly.

I can see the driveway when the rains start coming down and the wind starts whipping around us. The storm is furious as it falls almost as dark as night, even though it’s early evening. The water is cold, even through the clothes we wear. When we reach the garage, I breathe a sigh of relief. Slipping inside, Tristan kills the engine.

“Hopefully we walked around enough throughout the day that you aren’t too sore,” he tells me as he helps me off.

With both feet planted on solid ground, I know I’ll be somewhat sore. “Nothing a warm shower won’t fix.” My teeth are chattering, fingers shaking as I try to take the helmet off.

“Here, let me help.” He pushes my hands away, helping me get out of the jacket and helmet, but my shivering won’t stop.

“I didn’t expect that wind, or the rain,” I explain. “Once I get cold like this, it’s really hard for me to get warm.”

“I didn’t expect them either,” he admits as he shrugs out of his outer gear too. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

With a shriek, he picks me up in his arms, carrying me up the stairs to the suite that is ours. He sets me down, going to work getting the fireplace going, and getting out of his wet clothing. Looking out the windows, we can see the tumult of the waves crashing against the shore, the driving ran, and the lightning off in the distance.

Determined to get warm, I immediately go to the bathroom and start the shower, but as I try to make my fingers work on the button and zipper of my jeans, I’m not making any headway. My fingers are still frozen and refuse to cooperate.

“Need some help with that?”

His voice is deep, dark, a promise of something intensely sensual underlying the words he speaks. I know immediately that if I look up and meet his eyes, that this dance we’ve been doing around each other is over. I tell myself to be strong, but then I tell myself to shut up. This man is meant to be my husband, and why would I not enjoy all the things that entitles me to?

Lifting my eyes to where he stands, I see first bare feet and legs. Raising my gaze up to his mid-section, I see soaked boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. And I mean nothing. He wants me, of that there is no question. I finish the path up his bare chest until I get to those eyes of his. Just as dark as his voice was, the promise shining bright there.

Licking my lips, I gather up every bit of my courage. “If you could help me, I would really like that.”

He saunters across the marble floor, gliding like he’s got all the time in the world, while I’m dying for him to touch me. When he gets to where I am, he cups both sides of my face in the palm of his hands. “Are you sure, Lia? Once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

Nodding, I breathe deeply, putting my fingertips against the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I’m sure.”

“Then hang on, princess, I’m about to blow your mind.”

As his mouth crashes into mine, tongues dueling, lips pressing together, breaths being shared, I have no doubt this man is about to do just that.