Stranded At Cupid's Hideaway. Connie Lane

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the heck?” Laurel tried again. “The bulb’s burned out,” she grumbled. Moving carefully in the dark, she stood. “Maisie keeps more lightbulbs in the bathroom,” she told Noah. “You stay here. I’ll just go…Ouch!” Her shin slammed into a second potted plant, one she swore wasn’t in the middle of the floor the last time she’d been in the room. She rubbed the spot where she knew there would be a bruise by morning. “I’ll get a bulb.”

      Carefully, Laurel negotiated her way through the room. Even in daylight, finding a path through Almost Paradise could be a challenge. The room had been designed by Maisie and brought to life by an architect who was skeptical at best. Not a romantic and not possessing Maisie’s imagination or her fondness for fantasy, he didn’t understand why a room needed winding paths covered with carpet that looked like grass and bordered with tropical foliage. He didn’t understand about the waterfall, either, and listening for the gurgle so she could maneuver around it, Laurel headed into the bathroom. She hit the light switch at the same time she heard a splash. Noah barked out a curse.

      Laurel spun around just in time to see him ankle-deep in the pond that took up one corner of the room.

      She fought to control a smile. “I told you not to move,” she said.

      “You told me not to move. You didn’t tell me there was a lake in the middle of the room. Damn!” Noah lifted up one foot and watched water drip off the leg of his expensive trousers.

      “You didn’t hurt any of the fish, did you?”

      He glanced at the water, then at Laurel, and even though the room was bathed only with the light that seeped from the bathroom, she could see the flush of anger and embarrassment that stained his face. “The fish are fine.” He shook one leg and stepped out of the pond. “I don’t suppose you could toss me a—”

      “Towel.” Laurel already had one in her hand. She lobbed it to him before she turned to look for a lightbulb in the vanity below the sink. Retrieving one, she headed into the bedroom.

      “What the hell kind of place is this?” She found Noah looking around the room, his expression as incredulous as his pant leg was wet.

      Smiling, Laurel got rid of the old lightbulb, screwed in the new one and flicked on the lamp next to the bed. The light brought the room to life, and just as she expected, Noah looked more amazed than ever.

      Not only were the walls made out of glass blocks, the ceiling above the bed was a skylight. There were tropical plants everywhere, and as Noah had already discovered, a small pond in the corner, complete with a waterfall and a family of goldfish.

      One eyebrow raised, Noah glanced Laurel’s way. “You’re kidding, right?”

      “Not me.” She smiled. “Maisie. And Maisie’s never kidding. Not when it comes to Cupid’s Hideaway. This is her version of paradise.”

      “More like—” Noah didn’t finish the comparison. He didn’t have to. He untied his wing tips, stepped out of them and poured the water that filled his right shoe into the pond. He peeled off his sock and laid it on the rocks that surrounded the pond.

      “I didn’t bring a suitcase, remember?” He undid his belt while he gave Laurel a beseeching look. “I don’t suppose you folks have bathrobes or something for guests to use.”

      The request echoed in Laurel’s head. She might have been listening to it if she wasn’t so busy watching Noah. She’d forgotten how sure and capable his hands were. He unfastened his belt with the kind of quick economy of movement he used to do everything else. His fingers were long and tapered, the kind of fingers she’d always thought would be better suited to a surgeon or a musician than they were to a professor. She’d forgotten that, too. Too bad she hadn’t forgotten the little thrill she’d always felt as she watched him get undressed. Or the tiny flickers of desire that always followed when she thought that Noah getting undressed usually meant her getting undressed. And when they were both undressed…

      Laurel yanked herself back to reality. Just in time to keep herself from succumbing to too many vivid memories. Not in time to keep Noah from knowing exactly what she was thinking. He’d stopped what he was doing—thank goodness—and he was looking at her, his eyes sparking a suggestion and his lips quirked into a smile that told her the suggestion was suggestive.

      The very thought was intriguing. And as bad an idea as Laurel had ever had.

      Apparently, Noah felt the same way. At the same time she pulled herself from the brink, he turned his back on her to unzip his pants.

      “Bathrobes. Check.” Before she could convince herself there was any merit in doing anything else, Laurel darted into the bathroom. Maisie was especially proud of the Hideaway’s bathrobes. She didn’t scrimp when it came to the Hideaway, and the bathrobes were a perfect example. They were thick and comfortable, and each one had a cute little cupid embroidered over the heart. They were supposed to be for her guests’ use while they were at the inn, but more often than not, her guests purchased them before they left.

      The bathrobes were always hung in the same place, on hooks behind the bathroom door. Laurel reached behind the door and grabbed what was hanging there. She knew from the start that what she’d retrieved wasn’t a bathrobe. It wasn’t big or heavy or plush enough. In fact, it was positively tiny. But she was already on her way to the bedroom before she realized exactly what she had in her hands.

      Under normal circumstances, Laurel didn’t embarrass easily. But ever since she’d walked into the lobby and found Noah at the front desk, her life had been anything but normal. She looked at what she was carrying, and her cheeks shot through with heat. Her stomach clenched. Her heart pounded once, twice, and she swore it stopped.

      “I’m wet and cold,” she heard Noah say. “Hurry up with that bathrobe, will you.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, and before Laurel could tuck it behind her or make up an excuse that sounded even a little adequate, he saw what she was holding. Noah’s mouth dropped open, and he turned. His belt was on the bed next to him, his pants were already unzipped, and a hint of green-and-white checked boxers showed at the fly. He held up his trousers with one hand and pointed at Laurel with the other.

      “That’s not—”

      Laurel squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to take a deep breath. That might have been a whole lot easier if the breath didn’t wedge against the ball of panic in her throat. “No bathrobes,” she told him. “At least not that I can find. This is the only thing here for you to change into.” She held out the bit of green fabric. “I can’t say for sure. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one before. I think…” She looked again at the triangular wedge of fabric. It had straps sewn to it, like a thong, and it was embroidered to look like—

      “I think,” Laurel said, “it’s a fig leaf.”

      She didn’t wait to see how Noah might respond. She didn’t want to know. Her cheeks on fire, her heart in her throat, her knees as wobbly as if she’d run a couple miles, Laurel thrust the fabric fig leaf into Noah’s hands and headed for the door. She bolted into the hallway and slammed the door closed behind her.

      Out of the corner of her eye, Laurel caught sight of the wooden snake carved into the sign. Its grinning face and flashing eyes told her it knew exactly what had happened inside the room. Exactly what she was thinking. Exactly how close she’d come to ignoring all the good advice she’d given herself over the past four years.

      “What are you looking at?” She glared at the snake right before she pushed СКАЧАТЬ