WEEKS OF RUNNING and staying in a new seedy motel off the beaten path, every few days, began to wear on them. They were off the grid again. Not even Declan’s brothers knew where they were, nor could they trace them.

Luke and Liam had been working diligently, trying to pinpoint the leak that led Esteban to Declan and Lydia, to no avail. They had been staying in one of their own safe houses; not even the agency was aware of the homes the O’Reillys had and used for Brother’s Keeper. It didn’t make sense.

Esteban had someone on the inside, and that’s why his men ended up in Moss Bridge. Declan didn’t trust the agency, but he did trust his team. They had been together for years, been through hell and back. They were a tight brotherhood – they were loyal to one another. Perhaps it was someone else in the agency; maybe someone from his team inadvertently said something that could lead them to Declan and Lydia. The only problem with that theory? Not even his close, loyal team knew about the safe houses that the O’Reillys had and used.

The more they searched for leads, and dug into the agencies files and mainframe system, the more it seemed like they were involved, but how? And who? Declan had a lot of enemies; it was a trade hazard, but none had the resources to flood him out like that – the agency, however, did. Blackmail or money could get any one of those bastards to turn on him. If Esteban found out, somehow, they were all still alive, they would be worth a lot of fucking money.

Until they knew where the threat was coming from, the threat working with Esteban, Declan could only rely on his brothers. Though Brother’s Keeper was like a vault that even the world’s best hackers couldn’t crack, they had a motto of never say never. Because of that – not even his brothers could know where they were, where they were going, or what their next move would be. So, Declan would check in with them every 24 hours, using the burner phone system.

Though they weren’t using the safe houses anymore, the brothers were watching them to see if Esteban’s thugs would come looking. And they did. They hit each and every one. Dec and Lydia stayed as far from those houses as possible. Someone knew too much, and they were selling out the wrong family. It wouldn’t end well for whoever that double-crossing traitor was.

Esteban’s men weren’t giving up – that meant that the O’Reillys had to assume they knew Declan was alive, which meant Lydia was alive, too. If she was alive and running, common sense said she knew something. Esteban wanted to know what, hence the heavy search. Despite his men crawling everywhere, Esteban himself never resurfaced. He was smart; he knew someone had eyes on his people, and it was only a matter of time before they had him marked, too.

Being on the run this time, without a safe house to turn to, meant they were never in one place long enough to do anything but late-night work outs on a random high school track to stay on top of their game, and of course to sleep. Though opportunity presented itself often, Declan remained a gentleman. She was better than a pay by the hour shady motel. He didn’t want to build something cheap. The risk was too great, and it needed to be worth it.

So, despite his wants, despite his needs, despite that hair of disappointment he sensed when all he did was hold her at night – he didn’t touch her. Not the way he wanted to or the way she needed him to. It was evident that she wanted more, and he’d give it to her, but for now, they’d live off that one smoldering kiss and the many they’d had since. The rest would come, in time, when he could give her what she deserved. She was special – she was the one he was willing to risk it all for.

Sexual tension had reached an all-time high. Lydia wasn’t helping matters by walking around in her thin, barely there, motel towels while she would get ready to go to bed or hit the road again. The way she wrapped herself around him in her sleep was nearly his undoing, time and time again, but he wouldn’t break. He was living like a damn nun when he had a hot woman in bed next to him. Cold showers, extra-long runs, driving until he couldn’t see straight just to avoid being in bed with his temptress – life running was becoming the easy part.

He couldn’t live with the insatiable ache in his pants, or the sultry, hot desire she provoked in him, another day. He was going to do something about it. While she showered, he made a few phone calls.

Another day and a half on the road led them somewhere new. Each town and ten dollar an hour hotel looked the same and ran together like the days and weeks had. Until today. They exited the freeway and drove right into a thriving city rather than the small town no one ever heard of that they were used to.

This wasn’t a blink and you’ll miss it kind of place. There were tall buildings surrounding them, people everywhere, and traffic – real traffic – the kind where your signal light can turn green and you don’t move an inch because…traffic!

“Declan, what are we doing here?” she asked, confused by the change in routine. “Just changing freeways or something?”

“Nope.” He smiled, but didn’t bother to elaborate. She would have her answer in another city block or two.

When he slowed and pulled into the valet of a swanky hotel, he had her attention. Her eyes went wide when he pulled right up to the valet podium. When a man approached the car, she pulled down her visor to quickly check her appearance in the vanity mirror.

“Oh, my God, I look terrible. I can’t go in there!” She ran her hands through her hair and then pinched her cheeks for color.

Leaning over, he cupped her chin and directed her attention to him and him only. Then he kissed her sweetly before saying, “You look beautiful. Always beautiful.”

Running her hand down his face, all she could do was smile. She didn’t know exactly why they were at this hotel, maybe for lunch or dinner, but she knew it was for her. He was thoughtful, and kind – that she had established – but he went out of his way to make her feel special, and a trip to this hotel, regardless of the reason, was no exception.

Her door opened, causing her to jump. She turned to see the extended hand of the Bell Hop, ready to help her out of the vehicle.

“Sorry about that, ma’am – didn’t mean to startle you. Welcome to the Millenium Hotel. How long will you be staying with us?” the young man asked.

“Oh, uh…” She looked to Declan who quickly came around the front of the car to her side. “I’m not sure?”

“Just the night,” he said, offering a large bill to the kid as a tip. “I’ll go ahead and take those bags. Thanks.”

The Bell Hop’s eyes widened when he realized how much he had just been tipped. “Are you sure, sir? I mean it’s my job; happy to take those up for you when you’re checked in.”

“I’m sure,” he said with a smile and nod.

“Well, if you need anything, anything at all, you just call me. My name’s Seth. You just ask for me, and I’ll take care of you!”

“Isn’t that the concierge’s job?” Lydia joked.

“Yes, but when someone tips like this,” he smiles, waving the money in the air, “you can get just about anything you need…I haven’t even earned this yet! Well, you folks have a nice stay. Remember…Seth.”

Seth moved on to the next car that had just pulled in, leaving Lydia and Declan to laugh.

“Well, you just made his day,” she said.

“Ehh, those kids are underpaid and overworked. People with money are the worst tippers, so I thought I’d do him a solid.”

She giggled and leaned in with a whisper, “I don’t even know where we are. I wasn’t paying attention to the signs coming in since I didn’t know we were stopping.”

He whispered back, “San Francisco. Now grab my arm.”

He walked to the large revolving entry, Lydia quick to stay at his side. She wasn’t sure what his plan was or what he said; she was still stuck on San Francisco. “What did you say?”

“Grab my arm,” he said, extending his elbow to her. She was happy to oblige. “Now smile and play along.”

Stunning wasn’t the word to describe the hotel lobby – it was more than that – it was grand. Black and white herringbone patterned floors staged a canvas of luxurious glitz and pops of color. Sleek aubergine chandeliers lit the space, complimenting the tufted crushed velvet couches that were only a shade darker. Matching circular seating hugged the modern gold pillars, adorned with shiny stone that resembled large diamonds, divided the space, offering areas to sit and relax as well as the various amenity desks like check-in and concierge.

Large, stately, houndstooth print chairs were scattered about as the simple touch that pulled it all together while the glass sculptures peppered the tabletops and empty corners, adding an elegant artful vibe that was pleasing to the eye. It was glamorous with a pop of San Francisco flare.

Greeting them with a friendly smile, the nicely dressed man behind the counter turned his nose up in question, the gesture his way of asking a name.

“Chad Ramsey,” Declan said in response.

“Ahhhh, Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey. We’ve been patiently awaiting your arrival,” the man said with excitement.

Lydia stiffened at the assumption they were married, and straightened, ready to correct the man. Declan leaned in and kissed her before she could get a word out and blow their cover, leaving her in a swoony daze.

“We have the honeymoon suite set up and ready, just the way you asked.” The man, Shay, according to his name tag, snapped his fingers at a nearby man in a uniform that coordinated with the rest of the staff. “Carl will be your butler. He is happy to assist you with your bags. I’m so sorry nobody has already handled those for you.”

“Oh, Shay, don’t worry about it. Your guy, Seth, offered, and I declined. Good kid; you have a good worker on your hands,” Declan offered with a slight twang to his voice. Shay seemed satisfied with the answer as his pouty frown became a beaming smile again.

Declan turned to Carl who stood at the ready, anxious to carry the bags or whatever else they tossed at him. There was something to be said about the eager service. “I appreciate the offer, there, Carl, but I got these here bags just fine. Packing light, honeymoon and all. Now before you protest, I’d hate to embarrass ol’ Carl here when I carry my lady through that door and…well, you know.”

Once over the mortification, Lydia smacked Declan’s arm, playing along. “Chad! I am so sorry my new husband lacks manners. Please accept my apology.”

Declan quickly turned them toward the elevator and smacked her on her ass as they went, earning a yelp in the lobby. Shay and Carl were grinning at the desk when Lydia looked over at them from the elevator, just before the doors closed.

“Mister and misses? Embarrass Carl? Your lady? So much for being discreet and unassuming.” She laughed.

“Didn’t want to look like the world’s unhappiest newlyweds.” He stepped in front of her, pressing his body against hers, and kissed her. “And yes, you are my lady.”

Their elevator make out session was interrupted by the illustrious ding of the elevator as its doors opened when they reached their floor. The area outside the elevator was decorated as lavishly as the lobby, and boasted a single door. Their door.

Declan knew the amenities of the room would mean more to Lydia than they did to him, so he opened the door and stood back, letting her take it all in. It was as grand as the lobby with luxurious furnishings and finishes. They walked right into a large living space that had an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows with a to die for view. There was a wet bar, small dining table for two that sat at the window, which was all great. What she really wanted to see, though, was the bedroom.

There was a partial wall separating the bedroom from the rest of the space, and that bedroom didn’t disappoint. The bed was positioned so it faced the spectacular view through the same floor to ceiling windows that were also in the main living space.

She fell against the bed, and let out a breathy sigh. “It’s a real bed! I might not move from this spot! And that view! Is that the Golden Gate Bridge?”

“It sure is. Wait until tonight when it’s all lit up,” he said, laughing at her excitement.

“Wait.” She sat up abruptly and looked around. “The bathroom. I need to see the…”

She was on her feet, darting to the open double doors that were in the far corner of the room. “Oh, my… Ohhhh…my! Declan! There is a real bathtub in here and a huge shower. We can fit a whole bunch of people in here!”

“I could always call Carl, see if he’s interested,” he teased, thoroughly enjoying her enthusiasm and excitement.

She returned to the room and stood in front of him, offering a teasing scold. “Stop. You make that call and you’re entertaining Carl by yourself.”

“Ehhh, not my type.”

Her expression went serious for a moment, the reality of it all settling in. “This, it’s so amazing, Declan.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him, and kissed her. “I thought you’d like a real bath and shower for a change – maybe a nice dinner that we didn’t eat in the car. I owe you a date. You never got to wear your new dress.”

Her heart melted, her glistening eyes threatening to spill over. He brushed the tears away with his thumbs and whispered, “None of that. You’ll be late for your appointment.”

Getting her attention with that line, she quickly reverted back to overjoyed and excited. “Appointment?”

“Spa, downstairs – they’re waiting for you. Honeymoon package.” He wiggled his eyebrows, obviously looking forward to something that was to come of that spa date she had.

“Well, well, well…who knew Declan O’Reilly could be such a romantic?” she teased.

Returning from her pampering spa date, Lydia found the room empty. Declan didn’t appear to be there, but there were bouquets of roses scattered throughout the room and petals across the floor, creating a path to the bedroom. She followed the whimsy trail of sprinkles of red, pink, and white to find the same theme of roses in the bedroom, too.

Across the bed lay her dress she bought to impress him with back in Moss Bridge, along with the shoes she bought to match. Next to it was a sexy set of lingerie that gave her butterflies and stirred a heated pool at her core. There was only one purpose for that lingerie; it was to show off, then take off. She couldn’t wait.

Something else really had her curious. It was the gift bag with fluffy tissue paper covering the top. What else could he possibly have thought up?

“How on earth?” her hands covered her mouth in surprise, and the emotion consumed her. In the bag was her favorite make-up, in all of her colors, something she hadn’t had since their first safe house in Rapid Falls.

“He remembered.” She whispered to herself. “How did he know what kind, and color… Liam. Dec said he could find out anything about anybody.

She laughed out loud, picturing a band of O’Reilly brothers hacking who knew what to track down make-up. Declan had been right, they really would do anything for each other – including hack fancy department stores’ databases for a customer’s make-up profile.

A note sat at the head of the bed, folded in half, with her name on it.

Meet me downstairs, ballroom 3, as soon as you’re ready. I’ll be waiting…

Your husband, Chad Ramsey.

Her head fell back in laughter as she held the sweet note to her chest. She couldn’t believe this was her life, even if only for a night. She felt like Cinderella, headed to the ball.

Ballroom three was just as elaborate as anything else she had experienced throughout the day. There was one slight difference, however, which was the handsome man who stole her breath the minute she saw him. Declan stood, waiting for her, leaned against a small wet bar with a drink in his hand. He wore black tailored slacks and a white button up with the top two buttons left undone. It looked like Declan had done some shopping of his own. If sexy needed a definition, it was Declan O’Reilly.

“Is it just us?” she asked, “A private dinner in the ballroom?”

“Just us…” he replied in a breathy tone, “you look…I don’t think there’s a word for that yet.”

“Well, you clean up pretty nice yourself.” He pulled her into him, going right for a long sensual kiss that promised a night of passion they both craved.

A group of servers entered the dimly lit room with a cart, carrying several silver domed platters and champagne, setting everything at the candle lit table for two. When she looked around, she noticed the room’s lighting was mostly provided by candles everywhere. It was a romantic scene that belonged in a movie. Just lovely.

“I owe you a town crab boil,” he said as the server removed the two domes from the place settings. “I hope this will work?”

“Umm, lobster and crab legs? I’d say you did okay,” she laughed.

Music began to stream through the room with its romantic whimsy and melodies. It wasn’t anything she had ever heard, but it didn’t matter; it fit the theme of the night and melted her heart.

“Dance with me…” he whispered in her ear before he grabbed her right hand and began to sway to the music.

Eventually, they made it to the table and enjoyed their meal together along with several glasses of champagne. It was exquisite. Then they danced some more, in a seductive manner, their bodies never losing contact. She was entranced by his every word and every move.

Sweet kisses and caresses intensified their need, each feeling the heat they created in the other. When it became more than he could handle, he leaned down and whispered, “Dessert?”

Looking around the room, she noticed their table had been cleared, the staff was nowhere to be seen, and there wasn’t a dessert tray to be seen.

“It’s upstairs, in our room…” he whispered again, taking her earlobe into his mouth then peppering kisses down her neck.

With her head back and tilted to one side, enjoying the seduction, she said in a throaty sultry sound, “Then I have a terrible sweet tooth. Show me the way, Mr. Ramsey.”