didn’t blind her to the vision of her own desire.
Elliot broke off the kiss. “No—this is wrong. I can’t.” His words faltered as he caught sight of her.
Becca didn’t move.
“Oh, fucking hell!” He brushed off Adam’s hold and hurried towards her. “Babe—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see that. I mean that I didn’t mean to do it. Not that I was trying to hide anything. We were just goofing around. It didn’t… It wasn’t…”
“Don’t you dare dismiss me like that, Elliot Caine, and don’t lie to her. Don’t lie to yourself.” Adam loomed behind Elliot. His dark hair rested on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Adam.” He offered his hand and smiled when she automatically took it. “Enchanté.”
He had sapphire blue eyes, clear and smiling and full of warmth, coupled with the sort of bone structure that made a face interesting. A slightly overlarge mouth, united with a deep brow and a prominent chin; the sort of man who walked a fine line between devastating and ugly. He held on to her hand as she swallowed down the vision of him.
“Adam, stop it!” Elliot snatched her hand away from his lover’s. “Come upstairs, Becca. We can talk about this in our room. Please,” he added as an afterthought.
She wasn’t sure what there was to say. She wasn’t pushing him away. Her arousal had squashed her initial swell of outrage. It was on the tip of her tongue to invite Adam up to their room with them. She’d rather watch him and Elliot make out than stumble into an argument.
Adam patted Elliot on the shoulder. “You know where to find me.” He wandered off in the direction of the bar, leaving them to consolidate themselves as best they could.
Their room, like much of the hotel, incorporated red brickwork interspersed with tartan furnishings in a variety of shades. They had a king-sized brass bed made up in red and gold and a little window area consisting of a squashy tartan love-seat and a brown leather banquette.
Elliot led the way into the room, but hung back to hold the door and allow her to pass. His eyes were glassy with guilt when he looked at her. The same emotion had already sharpened his jaw line and given him a deliciously kissable pout. He came towards her slowly. He brushed one hand through his hair, causing several of the longer strands to fall forward over his brow. He always slicked it back, but she loved it when it hung over his forehead, partially masking his whisky-gold eyes.
“I don’t want to hear it if you’re going to make some half-boiled excuse. You knew what you were doing. Don’t compound things by insinuating that I’m stupid or blind.”
Behind the fallen lock of hair, his frown tugged at the centre of his brow, etching a pattern of deep lines into the skin there.
“My God, Elliot, you were with a man! I’m not sure what I think, let alone how I’m supposed to react to it. Is this something new? Have you always known? Am I doing something wrong? Not pleasing you enough?” She didn’t blame herself, not really, but the question slid out regardless. Maybe she just needed to hear his reassurance in order to believe there was still a bond between them.
“You’re doing nothing wrong.”
“Then—then explain it to me? Have you—? Did you, before we married?”
His sheepish grin morphed into a grimace. Elliot was a private soul. He kept things close, never revealing more of his personal views and emotions than he needed to. It made him mysterious or plain old hard to get to know, depending on your point of view, but behind that outer shell of cool indifference she’d found her soul mate. At least she’d thought she had. How much did she really know about him? If he’d detached himself and her from this aspect of his personality, what else had he hidden?
“A few encounters,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast. “Nothing serious. And not since we married, apart from downstairs. I’ve not
Elliot broke off the kiss. “No—this is wrong. I can’t.” His words faltered as he caught sight of her.
Becca didn’t move.
“Oh, fucking hell!” He brushed off Adam’s hold and hurried towards her. “Babe—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see that. I mean that I didn’t mean to do it. Not that I was trying to hide anything. We were just goofing around. It didn’t… It wasn’t…”
“Don’t you dare dismiss me like that, Elliot Caine, and don’t lie to her. Don’t lie to yourself.” Adam loomed behind Elliot. His dark hair rested on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Adam.” He offered his hand and smiled when she automatically took it. “Enchanté.”
He had sapphire blue eyes, clear and smiling and full of warmth, coupled with the sort of bone structure that made a face interesting. A slightly overlarge mouth, united with a deep brow and a prominent chin; the sort of man who walked a fine line between devastating and ugly. He held on to her hand as she swallowed down the vision of him.
“Adam, stop it!” Elliot snatched her hand away from his lover’s. “Come upstairs, Becca. We can talk about this in our room. Please,” he added as an afterthought.
She wasn’t sure what there was to say. She wasn’t pushing him away. Her arousal had squashed her initial swell of outrage. It was on the tip of her tongue to invite Adam up to their room with them. She’d rather watch him and Elliot make out than stumble into an argument.
Adam patted Elliot on the shoulder. “You know where to find me.” He wandered off in the direction of the bar, leaving them to consolidate themselves as best they could.
Their room, like much of the hotel, incorporated red brickwork interspersed with tartan furnishings in a variety of shades. They had a king-sized brass bed made up in red and gold and a little window area consisting of a squashy tartan love-seat and a brown leather banquette.
Elliot led the way into the room, but hung back to hold the door and allow her to pass. His eyes were glassy with guilt when he looked at her. The same emotion had already sharpened his jaw line and given him a deliciously kissable pout. He came towards her slowly. He brushed one hand through his hair, causing several of the longer strands to fall forward over his brow. He always slicked it back, but she loved it when it hung over his forehead, partially masking his whisky-gold eyes.
“I don’t want to hear it if you’re going to make some half-boiled excuse. You knew what you were doing. Don’t compound things by insinuating that I’m stupid or blind.”
Behind the fallen lock of hair, his frown tugged at the centre of his brow, etching a pattern of deep lines into the skin there.
“My God, Elliot, you were with a man! I’m not sure what I think, let alone how I’m supposed to react to it. Is this something new? Have you always known? Am I doing something wrong? Not pleasing you enough?” She didn’t blame herself, not really, but the question slid out regardless. Maybe she just needed to hear his reassurance in order to believe there was still a bond between them.
“You’re doing nothing wrong.”
“Then—then explain it to me? Have you—? Did you, before we married?”
His sheepish grin morphed into a grimace. Elliot was a private soul. He kept things close, never revealing more of his personal views and emotions than he needed to. It made him mysterious or plain old hard to get to know, depending on your point of view, but behind that outer shell of cool indifference she’d found her soul mate. At least she’d thought she had. How much did she really know about him? If he’d detached himself and her from this aspect of his personality, what else had he hidden?
“A few encounters,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast. “Nothing serious. And not since we married, apart from downstairs. I’ve not
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