Chapter Twelve
“Have mercy, she locked us in here.” The rough edges of her panicked voice made his heart squeeze. Her arms around his middle clung to him like a climbing vine.
They could scream, bang on the door, break it down if they had to. But there was no adventure in that. He lifted his camera from the strap on his neck and fired off a few shots. The flash illuminated the space like a strobe light.
He made out the basic outline of the small room―the draped window, small dresser cluttered with frames and four-poster bed shoved up against the far wall. No risk of bumping into anything from where they stood.
“What are we going to do?” Her stage whisper made him smile.
“We’re going to wait for them to do whatever it is that makes people think this room is haunted.”
“Like the freezing air that was blasted into my room at the hotel?” She loosened her grip, but didn’t release him.
“Maybe.” He turned to face her and she dropped her hands and slipped a finger into the front pockets of his cargo shorts. Apparently, Jaime wasn’t interested in letting him go.
“How long do you think they’ll leave us in here?”
“Our fifteen minutes were almost up, so this probably resets the clock.” Anticipation of the possibilities gave him a heady feeling. Ghost sighting or not, Jaime in the dark was always a good time.
“Fifteen minutes locked in a dark room?”
He wrapped an arm around her. “Didn’t you ever play seven minutes in heaven?”
“I spent my high school years babysitting, not partying. Besides, I don’t think I could kiss a stranger. Who knows what their dental hygiene is like.”
He gave a quiet laugh and brought his forehead to hers. “So you can’t stop kissing me because I brush my teeth?”
“It’s a side-effect of having a dentist for a father. Besides, you kiss me. I―”
Her wish was his command. He swiftly brought his mouth to hers, teasing her lips apart with his tongue. Just when he thought she was getting into it, she pushed him away. Then she squeaked in fear and fisted one hand in his shirt.
“I do not want to make out in the ghost room of a haunted brothel.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I guarantee this ghost approves of kissing.” He chuckled. “It’s probably been so long since she’s seen any action, she’ll applaud and we’ll get a great picture. Plus, nothing we could do would make her blush.”
“Are you high?”
“I’m trying to get higher, with you.”
She huffed a breath so hard he felt it against his face. “You are an adrenaline junky in the worst way. You’d think nearly being stampeded would be enough of a thrill for you today.”
He needed a thrill of a different sort to make this day absolutely perfect. With one hand, he gripped her hip and pulled her lush body against his. He lifted the camera and snapped a couple of shots in the direction of the bed.
“Oh, no you don’t. We are not making love on a ghost’s bed.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”
“There is no point in believing either way. If I leave them alone, they’ll leave me alone, whether they exist or not.”
“Pascal’s Wager for ghost hunting. Interesting.” He wasn’t sure why it amused him that she believed in ghosts, but it did. He’d planned on simply buying the negligee he’d spied on display in the window. But as soon as they learned the brothel claimed to be haunted, he’d shifted gears and opted to play with Jaime in another way. Though he still had plans for the lingerie downstairs.
“It’s kind of voyeuristic. I bet she’s watching right now.”
He pried Jaime’s fingers from his shirt and she slipped one under the waistband of his shorts. Right against his skin.
“Or the owners could be watching with night-vision cameras, trying to figure out just how many people will take this set-up as an excuse for a quicky.”
“We can’t disappoint them.” He inched closer to her, moving the camera to the side so their bodies aligned.
“They’ll get over it, I’m sure.”
He grinned and dipped his head until his forehead touched hers. With his free hand, he slid his fingers down the soft skin of her face, inching along her jaw until he could tilt her chin up. “Don’t you think there is something erotic about being in the dark? Without sight, our other senses heighten. Like touch.”
He pressed light kisses on her forehead, nose, lips. She drew in a quick breath and he answered with, “And sound.”
“I thought you liked it with the lights on?”
She laughed and he kissed her sassy lips. The sweet cinnamon flavor of her mouth had him tasting and touching deeper than he’d planned. “You even taste better in the dark.”
“You too.” She cupped the back of his head and returned his kiss with a passion only Jaime could muster.
The squeaking of the bedsprings made her jump. He had to step back to keep from getting knocked in the head. He fired off a few shots at the bed, but knew they wouldn’t come out when Jaime grabbed his arm.
“Get me out of here!”
“J’aime, relax.” He held her to him, so close he could feel her heart thundering in her chest. When her breathing slowed, he spoke again. “I think we should check out what is under the bed, so we know how they made it squeak.”
“Something other than a ghost sitting on it, you mean?”
“Exactly. Here, you take the camera.” He lifted the strap off his neck and slipped it over her head.
“Wait, why do I need the camera?” She grabbed his upper arm and squeezed.
“Do you want to be the one looking under the bed?”
“I don’t want you to do it either. You took your pictures, let’s just go knock on the door and someone will have to let us out.”
“Unless the guides tell the tourists it’s the ghost knocking.”
She shuddered beside him. “They have to let us out.”
“Of course they will. Now take a picture every few seconds so I have some light to go by.”
“I don’t like this,” she said as he inched toward the bed. The flash lit up the room and he made it the rest of the way. “And for the record, I hated it when you were stampeded by horses.”
“Duly noted.” Xavier felt along the quilt, scanning the bed quickly when the flash went off again. He didn’t know what he was looking for, especially in the dark.
“You should let me plan a day on this excursion of ours.”
“You would have to stop whining about wanting to go home.” He crouched down and lifted the bed skirt, but when the camera flashed, the light didn’t make it beneath the bed. “Come closer.”
“I’m too smart to get too close to you or a potential ghost, thank you very much.”
He turned to face her and found her phone softly illuminating her features. Before he could ask what she was doing, the light from the phone brightened and she held it out to him, a flashlight illuminated on the display.
“Apparently, there is an app for everything.”
Xavier rose and took the phone from her hand. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”
“Because I was freaking out and you were trying to make out. Slows down the synapses. Please, find your squeak-maker so we can get out of here.”
She lifted the camera to her face, so he resumed his spot next to the bed. He looked beneath it and found nothing but a prolific family of dust bunnies.
He stood and pressed down on the mattress, trying to find the squeak as Jaime took pictures.
Jaime sneezed. “This room is too dusty to be used very often. But I think they’re trying the cold trick from the hotel. It’s freezing in here.”
No, it really wasn’t. In fact, he found the dark space stifling. Xavier stood up and waited for Jaime to illuminate her position before walking towards her.
A chill raced through his bones as he neared. No rush of cold air from a vent, but a definite drop in temperature. “Let me try with the camera.”
Jaime jumped as he reached for her. “Don’t do that. Sheesh.”
He took the camera and stepped away, taking shots of Jaime as he retreated. In the display she glowed as if backlit.
“This has stopped feeling scary and just feels silly.”
“That’s because Matilda likes you.” He’d give anything for his night vision lens. Too bad it was still in Paris.
“Very funny.”
“It’s hot over here.”
In the display he caught Jaime’s expression, brows knit and lips pursed. “We should figure out how they’re doing it and then expose that haunted hotel.”
“I think you’ve managed to find friendly spirits.” Both times.
“Stop it. Give me the phone so I can look at the ceiling. I think the cold is coming from there.”
He changed a few settings and took another shot, grinning as the glow behind Jaime took on a pink hue. Without her terrified expression, it would make a great picture.
She screamed and ran into him so hard he nearly toppled over. The phone clattered to the ground, the light glowing upward like a vortex. She clutched him with one hand and batted the camera away with another. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her still.
“J’aime, what happened?”
“There’s someone else in here. They pushed me.”
He tried to bend down for the phone, but she wouldn’t let him. He took a series of shots around the room, but didn’t notice anyone or any secret doors. Though downstairs the doors had been in the floor.
The knock on the door jolted them both. It inched open, light seeping into the room. Scanning the room quickly, he didn’t see any other doors. But then they wouldn’t be obvious, would they?
Coyote Cate stepped through the door, a mischievous grin lifting the papery skin of her pale cheeks. “Any luck?”
“Someone was in here with us.” Jaime released him and turned on Cate. She squared her shoulders, indignation narrowing her eyes. “The squeaking bed and cold are all fun and games, but you can’t push people. It’s pitch black in here. Someone could get hurt. One lawsuit could close this entire operation.”
Cate nodded, still grinning. “Of course we want all of our customers to get what they came for. Mathilda can be a little overbearing, and for that I apologize. She still prides herself on being a matchmaker.”
Jaime shifted her gaze from their misguided tour guide to him and rolled her eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh, even as Jaime screwed up her face. He caught a lucky break, because she turned her ire on their unflappable host.
“Did you push me?” With her hands on her hips and her shoulders squared like that, she looked pretty hot.
“Of course not, dear.”
“What is this, some kind of magicians-never-tell-their-secrets thing? I want to know how you made one area in the room cold.”
“Mathilda did that, dear. It’s how she lets you know she’s present.”
Jaime raised her hands and shook them, frustration coming off her in waves. “You cannot lock people in rooms like you did. It’s imprisonment. Tell me how you do the cold air thing and I won’t go to the police.”
“But the door wasn’t locked, dear.” Maybe Cate was an apparition too, because she didn’t bat anymore eyelashes than normal at Jaime’s tirade.
“I heard you lock it.”
Cate shook her head. “I closed the door, but that was all. Did you try the handle? If it was locked it must have been―”
“Not Mathilda again.” Jamie spoke through her clenched jaw. Her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath. “This trickery may be spooky fun for some people, but I don’t appreciate being assaulted just so you get a story about a ghost.”
Jaime marched across the hallway and straight down the stairs. Xavier followed, not sure if she was more annoyed by the other-wordly shove or by Coyote Cate not giving up the secrets to their illusion.
…
“The only excuse for texting 9-1-1 is if you or Papa is dead.” Xavier ignored the stares from the other tourists as he looked through the sad lingerie selection at the brothel. The problem with wearing your phone on your ear was that people often thought you were a lunatic talking to yourself.
“I plan on killing him, so it’s warranted. He’s designing shoes all of the sudden. Black shoes. For summer!” Cellophane crinkled across the connection. It must be bad if Natalie was hitting the chocolate.
“He’s designed shoes before.” In fact, the old man had a knack for mixing style and comfort. “He wants your launch to be successful. He’s probably trying to help. Maybe if you asked―”
“I can’t ask him anything.” Her voice seethed with resigned indignation. “Everything is a screaming match.”
“So stop screaming.” An elderly man gave him a cross look and he wished Jaime had come with him to retrieve her phone so it at least appeared he was talking to someone other than himself. But as soon as she’d realized the phone was still in Mathilda’s room, she’d deigned it his responsibility to fetch it.
Plastic crinkled again. “You’re not going to help me with him, are you?”
“Not this time. You should buy a couple of chocolate brioche and sit down with him. He’ll listen until he’s done with his treat. And then have one for me, because I’ve only found one decent pastry since I left.”
He smiled, thinking of Jaime’s rugelach. The culinary experience on this trip had improved a hundred fold since picking her up. She brightened the entire adventure.
“Xavier, I don’t feel bad for you. I’m stuck here with a man who has the design sense of a blind goat, while you’re working on your tan.”
“I do my best.” He lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt and noticed the tan line. He’d have to go shirtless tomorrow to make up for it. Wherever they went next needed to have a pool so he could get in a swim and take in Jaime in her bikini.
“Where are you now, my nomadic brother?”
“Actually, I’m in a brothel.” He listened to Natalie laugh herself silly and decided against the lingerie. It looked fine, but the quality wasn’t there. He had to find an actual city, maybe some place that would have dressing rooms where she could try things on for him. Now there was an idea.
He paid for a fresh box of condoms. The madam smiled and waved at him as he left.
“Don’t use a Marie-Chloe credit card,” Natalie managed once she got a hold of herself.
“I know how to be discreet.” She gasped and he had to laugh. Thank goodness the streets seemed to be deserted after dusk. “It was a haunted brothel, and I wound up in a ghost’s bedroom.”
“For goodness sake, why?”
“To capture a photo of the ghost.” He quickened his pace, wanting to get back to Jaime and his camera to see if he’d gotten anything interesting.
“I thought you promised Maman you wouldn’t do that anymore.” Her voice held a sing-song quality he hadn’t heard since she’d stopped tattling on him.
“I was fifteen, and that was for your benefit, I’ll have you know. She didn’t say I couldn’t take them, just that I couldn’t show them to you ever again. You’ll be sorry for making such a fuss when everyone is talking about my ghost pictures and you can’t see them.”
“I’m sure you’ll be the most popular dinner party guest in Paris because of your photos. No one wants to see vacation pictures. Especially of the stuff you’re seeing. What was that one you sent me the other day? Cars standing upright in a field? And who took the one of you swinging the sledgehammer in a blacksmith’s shop?”
“Jaime. She pointed out I’m never in any pictures. She took some today at the horse sanctuary. I’ll send you one later.”
“She’s still with you? I thought you would have had her on a plane by now.”
“She’s actually a lot of fun.” In so many ways. He loved teasing her and showing her new things, both in bed and out of it.
“La, la, la, la, la. I do not want to hear about your fun.”
“She’s not like that. She’s a teacher, not some social climber with an agenda.”
“Are you saying you actually like her?” The candy-wrapper crinkle stopped.
“You’d like her. She has the first blouse of yours Maman put through, the bandeau one with the handkerchief hem.” Natalie would love Jaime. Natalie’s need for approval and Jaime’s tendency to nurture would be a perfect match. He glanced around the dark streets, wondering where that idea came from.
“At least she has better taste than her sister. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to be playing around with her before the wedding. What would Trent say?”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Trent is thrilled that I’ve made it halfway across the country. That’s why Jaime’s with me. He thought I needed a nanny to make sure I obey my bedtime.”
He smiled as he said the word bedtime just when he arrived at the hotel. He could hardly wait.
“Xav, use the head with a brain, please. Messing with Trent’s sister-in-law could get messy, and you hate clutter.”
“Sweet Natalie, you worry about fashion week. I’ve got my holiday under control.”
…
Six half-brothers, a dozen uncles, a father and a stepfather had taught her a thing or three about dealing with stubborn men. Jaime traced the new route on the U.S. map she’d found in the travel magazine in the hotel nightstand. If Xavier wanted Mt. Rushmore and Yellowstone, she’d oblige him.
She’d always wanted to experience both places, and she was starting to enjoy being with him more than it annoyed her. But she needed to get back to rebuilding her life. Eventually.
Still, there was no point in letting Xavier continue to run the show by the seat of his pants. She figured she could get them to Oregon by the weekend if she could find something to entice him in Idaho. She flipped the pages of the magazine and decided rafting was her best bet, but she was up for anything that would distract him from his Grand Canyon plan.
The click of the key in the door made her sit straighter and shake out her nearly dry hair with her fingers. She checked her nightgown, adjusting the cotton to cover more of her legs.
Xavier stepped into the room and gave her a predatory grin. “That is better than lingerie.”
“Um, good?” If he only knew Carla had laughed at her when she’d taken it. Apparently Carla’s mother gave her cotton nightgowns for her birthday every year, and she’d yet to wear one. “I’m not exactly the lingerie type.”
He shook his head. “You’re what lingerie is designed for.”
Her heart swelled at the compliment. When he said sweet things like that, she almost forgot he didn’t mean them the way she wanted him to.
“I almost bought you a peignoir at the brothel.”
“Thank goodness you didn’t. I don’t want anything from that place.”
He shrugged. “The quality left much to be desired. You, on the other hand…” He peeled of his T-shirt and stepped towards the bed.
She fought over the desire to lick that magnificent chest. When had she turned into a sex fiend? She cleared her throat and held out her hand. “My phone? Did they pretend to haunt that too?”
He muttered something in French, but she could only make out the curse words. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and tossed her phone and a box of condoms on the bed.
She snatched up the phone and kicked the box with her bare foot. “We won’t be on this trip long enough to use an entire box of condoms.”
“Finally, one of your bets I can benefit from. We’ll get through that box before we make it to Oregon, and then we’ll get to use another box once we’re there. I love this idea.”
She tried to resist the urge to roll her eyes, but really, at least she wasn’t the only one with sex on the brain. “If only you could use this single-minded obsession to get us to the wedding before the guests start to arrive.”
“We have almost two weeks. What are you going to do between now and then? Arrange her flowers?”
“No.” But that did remind her she’d been too busy today to call the florist and try to sweet talk them into finding white tulips for the bridesmaids. Maybe Allison would decide to try again with the florist herself.
“You told me the schools haven’t even opened the offices yet, so you can’t get after them about positions. And you can’t get an apartment until you know where you’ll be teaching.”
Damn, he’d been listening as she rambled on while they drove. It should annoy her that he’d tumbled her protests to the ground, but it was sexy as hell that he’d actually heard her.
There were so many things about him that were wonderful and magical and exactly what she wanted. Too bad they were wrapped up in a man who would leave the country in a couple weeks and never look back.
“Hey, no sad face. You’re going to get a job. If you were in your mom’s house, all you’d do is obsess about it. Here, at least I can distract you.” He took another step towards the bed.
“How about you distract yourself with a shower?” She looked at her phone display, needing some distance. When he was like this they didn’t seem like a fling. It felt like a relationship, more supportive than any she’d ever had.
He knit his brows and then smiled wide as if a light bulb had just lit up over his head. “Great idea, that way we’ll be faster in the morning and can capture the sunrise at Rushmore.”
She nodded, glad he walked away. If they made love now, she wouldn’t be able to keep it together. She’d wind up telling him she was falling for him and the spell would be broken.
And so would her heart.