attachments. Just sex.
Sergei’s eyes glittered. ‘Scared?’
Did he think she was bluffing?
Was
she? Hannah stared right back and with her heart still thumping hard she took his hand. It was warm, dry, strong, and his fingers folded over hers as he tugged her up from her chair.
Upstairs.
What was she doing?
Silently they walked from the restaurant. Hannah had no idea what would happen with the bill, but it hardly mattered. Her heart was thumping so hard it hurt. She could barely believe that she’d taken his hand, that she was letting him lead her past the reception desk, through the warm and welcoming lobby, up the open staircase, down a plushly carpetedhallway. She jerked to a stop in front of the last door, a brass plaque indicated this was the Adirondack Suite.
‘Wait … you booked a room already? You thought …’
He turned around to face her, his hand still holding hers, his eyes glinting in the dim light, although with amusement or desire Hannah couldn’t say. ‘I booked myself a room. I needed somewhere to sleep tonight.’
Hannah swallowed. Didn’t speak. Sergei took an old-fashioned brass key from his pocket. ‘Having second thoughts?’
‘No,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I just didn’t like you thinking I was a sure thing.’
Sergei stared at her for a moment, the key resting in his palm. ‘You’ve become rather cynical, haven’t you?’ he said finally, and he almost sounded sad.
‘Realistic,’ Hannah corrected, and he unlocked the door and ushered her in.
The suite was a retreat of understated elegance and luxury, from the fireplace already laid with logs to the huge four-poster piled high with pillows and a silk duvet. Sergei went to the fireplace, kneeling before it, and Hannah moved into the room. She dropped her coat on a chair and shed her heels, which had sunk so far into the deep carpet that it was hard to walk.
She stood by the window, gazing out at the darkened landscape, rolling fields that led to deep forest, all now cloaked with night. It was very quiet. So quiet she could hear the hard thud of her heart, and wondered if Sergei could hear it too, even from across the room.
‘There.’ He stood, and Hannah saw a fire already crackling to life in the hearth.
‘That was quick,’ she said, trying to smile. For some reason her lips weren’t working and it felt like a grimace instead. Sergei noticed, his eyes narrowing.
‘You
are
having second thoughts.’
‘No,’ Hannah said. ‘But this is all a little … strange. I mean I don’t …
I haven’t …’ She stopped, shrugging. It was occurring to her that no matter what she had said or implied earlier, Sergei was going to realise—quite quickly—that she still had very little experience when it came to the bedroom. A few furtive encounters comprised a sad history indeed.
‘I know,’ he said, and she stared at him.
‘What do you know?’
Now he was the one to shrug. ‘That this isn’t usual for you.’
She didn’t know whether to be offended or gratified. ‘Maybe I do this sort of thing all the time,’ she said, and Sergei stepped closer to her.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You don’t.’
He took another step closer and she breathed in that tangy scent of his aftershave that she still remembered from so long ago. He reached up and tucked a tendril of hair behind one ear, the touch of his fingers to her skin electric, causing her to shiver as if he’d actually shocked her. Sergei smiled and Hannah knew there was nothing she could do to keep him from knowing how much he affected her. How much she wanted him.
She finally spoke, trying to keep her tone light. Keep this whole thing light. ‘What, do you think you’re special or something?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘but you are.’
She hadn’t expected that. Suddenly she felt the sting of tears behind her lids. Her emotions were see-sawing crazily, going from anger to sadness to something deeper than either, and over all of it this consuming need.
Sergei’s eyes glittered. ‘Scared?’
Did he think she was bluffing?
Was
she? Hannah stared right back and with her heart still thumping hard she took his hand. It was warm, dry, strong, and his fingers folded over hers as he tugged her up from her chair.
Upstairs.
What was she doing?
Silently they walked from the restaurant. Hannah had no idea what would happen with the bill, but it hardly mattered. Her heart was thumping so hard it hurt. She could barely believe that she’d taken his hand, that she was letting him lead her past the reception desk, through the warm and welcoming lobby, up the open staircase, down a plushly carpetedhallway. She jerked to a stop in front of the last door, a brass plaque indicated this was the Adirondack Suite.
‘Wait … you booked a room already? You thought …’
He turned around to face her, his hand still holding hers, his eyes glinting in the dim light, although with amusement or desire Hannah couldn’t say. ‘I booked myself a room. I needed somewhere to sleep tonight.’
Hannah swallowed. Didn’t speak. Sergei took an old-fashioned brass key from his pocket. ‘Having second thoughts?’
‘No,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I just didn’t like you thinking I was a sure thing.’
Sergei stared at her for a moment, the key resting in his palm. ‘You’ve become rather cynical, haven’t you?’ he said finally, and he almost sounded sad.
‘Realistic,’ Hannah corrected, and he unlocked the door and ushered her in.
The suite was a retreat of understated elegance and luxury, from the fireplace already laid with logs to the huge four-poster piled high with pillows and a silk duvet. Sergei went to the fireplace, kneeling before it, and Hannah moved into the room. She dropped her coat on a chair and shed her heels, which had sunk so far into the deep carpet that it was hard to walk.
She stood by the window, gazing out at the darkened landscape, rolling fields that led to deep forest, all now cloaked with night. It was very quiet. So quiet she could hear the hard thud of her heart, and wondered if Sergei could hear it too, even from across the room.
‘There.’ He stood, and Hannah saw a fire already crackling to life in the hearth.
‘That was quick,’ she said, trying to smile. For some reason her lips weren’t working and it felt like a grimace instead. Sergei noticed, his eyes narrowing.
‘You
are
having second thoughts.’
‘No,’ Hannah said. ‘But this is all a little … strange. I mean I don’t …
I haven’t …’ She stopped, shrugging. It was occurring to her that no matter what she had said or implied earlier, Sergei was going to realise—quite quickly—that she still had very little experience when it came to the bedroom. A few furtive encounters comprised a sad history indeed.
‘I know,’ he said, and she stared at him.
‘What do you know?’
Now he was the one to shrug. ‘That this isn’t usual for you.’
She didn’t know whether to be offended or gratified. ‘Maybe I do this sort of thing all the time,’ she said, and Sergei stepped closer to her.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You don’t.’
He took another step closer and she breathed in that tangy scent of his aftershave that she still remembered from so long ago. He reached up and tucked a tendril of hair behind one ear, the touch of his fingers to her skin electric, causing her to shiver as if he’d actually shocked her. Sergei smiled and Hannah knew there was nothing she could do to keep him from knowing how much he affected her. How much she wanted him.
She finally spoke, trying to keep her tone light. Keep this whole thing light. ‘What, do you think you’re special or something?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘but you are.’
She hadn’t expected that. Suddenly she felt the sting of tears behind her lids. Her emotions were see-sawing crazily, going from anger to sadness to something deeper than either, and over all of it this consuming need.
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