Almost A Honeymoon. Susan Crosby

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “To a small, discreet hotel.”

      “Why San Francisco? I know you live here, but with only a little investigating, anyone could find out you work for us occasionally. If your reputation is as farreaching as you’d like to believe—”

      “I’m doing this as a favor to your father. He caught up with me by phone in London and begged me to help, so cut the insults, Paige. I landed at Logan, tracked you, then stayed awake the whole time watching over you. I’m tired.”

      “If you flew in from London, you should have luggage. Where is it?”

      “Being held at the airport until Lloyd can get over to pick it up.”

      “This is idiotic! Why couldn’t we just hide out somewhere near home?”

      “Because I have work to do. I can stay with you and also catch up on what’s been neglected while I’ve been gone.”

      “You’ll be prorating your bill, I assume,” she said, her voice dripping honey.

      “What?”

      “Well, it’s only fair. Why should we pay while you work for other people?”

      Rye didn’t know whether to laugh or explode at her relentless guardianship of O’Halloran Shipping funds. “I won’t be off the clock with you for a second, Harry.”

      Lloyd swung the car into a driveway, negotiated a narrow road around a three-story house-turned-hotel, then stopped in front of a small building. The headlights offered a quick glimpse of a brick cottage sheltered by a profusion of climbing ivy and low bushes before the beams were doused, leaving only a soft yellow glow coming from a porch light.

      “Wait here,” Rye ordered Paige before he left the car and followed the driver into the bungalow, which at one time served as a caretaker’s housing. A low fire gleamed from the hearth, the light casting flickering shadows around the impeccably furnished living room. “Everything secure?” he asked Lloyd, who came up behind him and deposited suitcases on the plush carpet.

      “As you requested, sir.”

      “Don’t call me sir.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Rye turned to look at the man, seeing past the scarred face and crooked nose to the strength of character beneath. The perpetually bland expression hid a wealth of feeling. “You did a great job, as usual, Lloyd. And on particularly short notice.”

      “Thank you, sir.”

      Rye shook his head, exasperated, as he inspected the rest of the cottage—a bedroom sporting a huge four-poster bed and a second fireplace, also lit, then a bathroom containing an oversize tub. “Looks good,” he said.

      “You may find the couch a bit confining.”

      “I noticed. I’m so tired it won’t matter at this point. I may feel differently tomorrow night.”

      “Get some sleep. I’ll watch from outside tonight.”

      “Thanks, old friend.” He came very close to sighing. “Well, the princess awaits. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long, long assignment.”

      “She doesn’t seem to, ah, particularly care for you, sir.”

      “Ms. O’Halloran and I have a history of disagreement.”

      “She’s quite attractive, if I may be so bold as to say.”

      “You think so? Maybe I can’t see past the nitpicking Scrooge that I know her to be.” He pressed a button on a palm-size remote control as he returned to the car, unlocking it.

      “How dare you lock me in,” Paige said, low and angry as she ignored his hand and slid out of the car.

      “On the contrary, Harry, I was locking others out.”

      “Well, you took your sweet time coming back to get me.”

      “I wanted to check out the arrangements personally.” He plucked her coat and purse from her hands and tossed them to Lloyd. Before she could take two steps, he swept her into his arms.

      “What are you doing? Put me down!” She shoved at his shoulders.

      “Nuzzle,” he ordered her.

      “Excuse me?” If frost could burn words, it had.

      “I said nuzzle me. If you don’t, I’m going to kiss you. Your choice.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “We’re being watched.”

      Paige glanced around. “I don’t see anyone. Who cares, anyway?”

      “A white-haired lady in a pink bathrobe has focused her romantic little heart our way from the main house. Dammit, Harry, nuzzle—”

      “Not in this lifetime.”

      “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He tilted her his direction, bringing their faces close.

      “Tell me why I should,” she said quickly, restraining him as she hoped the right amount of mutiny rang in her voice.

      He turned a triumphant grin on her. “Because we are about to enter the honeymoon cottage.”

      “You’re jok—”

      He closed the small gap between them, but she jerked away after the merest graze of lips.

      “So help me, Harry—”

      Paige buried her face against his neck, and she smelled leather and...pure, unadulterated male. He breathed a regular rhythm, apparently unaffected by her. She wished she could say the same for herself. She wanted to cling, although whether from fear or excitement, she didn’t know. Both jockeyed for position. No one had swept her off her feet before, literally or figuratively.

      “You can let go.”

      His words infiltrated the battle she’d begun to wage within. She loosened her hold as he set her down, her heels sinking into a lush carpet. He continued to hold her elbow as she wobbled briefly.

      “You all right?” he asked.

      “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her gaze took in the loveliness of the room, with its English countryside motif and warm, deep colors.

      “You seemed to enjoy your role, wife.“

      Paige ignored his grin. “I’m not stupid, Warner. I know it’s to my advantage to play the game.”

      “Do you take that much convincing in bed, too?”

      Paige gaped at his audacity.

      “Personally, I like a challenge,” he continued.

      “You СКАЧАТЬ