“Blimey, I’m good.”
“Clever girl,” he mutters as he sets me on my feet. “Let’s grab something hot to drink.”
“It’s a date.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks me to the rental shop to turn in my gear, then leads me to a nearby coffeehouse. He finds us an empty table in a corner. “This is a cute little place,” I say as I glance around the small but welcoming café.
“I had it built a few months ago,” he replies, and helps me out of my coat. “The space was for lease, and I thought a coffee shop would do well here.”
“And is it?”
“It is,” he confirms with a grin. “What will you have, darling?”
“Vanilla latte, extra hot, please.”
“Pastry?”
“No, thanks. I have a massage in a little while and I don’t like to have much in my stomach.”
He nods and crosses to the barista to put in our order. He’s in black ski pants and a long-sleeved, blue T-shirt that molds his muscular shoulders and arms. I suddenly remember the way those muscles flex when he’s hovering over me, the way they flex as he comes, and I have to shift in my seat, trying to alleviate the sudden throb between my legs.
“What are you thinking about, love?” he says, as he sits and passes me my coffee.
“Nothing.”
“That flush on your cheeks isn’t nothing.”
I feel myself blush harder and look down at my cup.
Jacob leans toward me and brushes his fingers through my short hair behind my ear. “It’s okay, love. I can’t stop thinking about it, either. Spill it.”
I glance about the small space, satisfied that no one is close enough to hear our intimate conversation.
I lean in and press my lips to his ear. “I was thinking about how spectacular you look when you’re above me, how I love the way your muscles flex, and how completely you fill me.” I brush my fingers through his soft, thick hair and his breath catches. His green eyes are on fire as I pull away and smile up at him innocently.
I clear my throat and take a sip of coffee. “I have to check out of the lodge and stow my things in my car before my massage.”
He frowns and takes my hand in his. “I’m not ready for you to leave yet.”
“I only had the room for the one night.”
“I’d love to have your things moved to my suite while you get your massage. You can come directly to my rooms when you’re finished.”
I bite my lip and then smile. “I’d like that. But I don’t want you to feel obligated . . .”
“One thing you’ll learn about me, darling, is that I never do what I don’t want to do. I want you with me tonight.”
His words warm me and intensify the ache in my core. “Okay, then, I’d like that. Thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Grace.” He smiles and drains the rest of his coffee, then consults his watch. “Unfortunately, I have to work for a bit this afternoon. I’ll leave a key to my suite with Jeanette for you. Just pick it up when you’re finished with your massage. I’ll handle having your things moved.”
“I feel very pampered, Mr. Baxter.”
He glances at me and his body softens as he leans toward me. “You deserve to be pampered. And that’s Sir Baxter to you, missy.”
“Sir Baxter? You’ve been knighted?”
“I have.” He nods and then chuckles. “But don’t tell anyone.”
“I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you get bashful.” I cup his face in my hand. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. As long as you arrange for me to have tea with Kate and the baby.”
He raises a brow and then breaks out into a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do, silly girl.” He checks his watch again.
“Go ahead. I’m going to be lazy here for a few minutes, call Cara, and then mosey on down to the spa. It’s a rough life. The suffering is immense, but I’ll be brave.”
“Enjoy it, my brave girl.” He kisses me long and hard, not giving a shit about who may be watching, then stands and shrugs into his coat. “I’ll do my best to meet you in my room when you’re finished.”
“No worries. Have a good day, dear.”
He winks and strides out of the café, turning heads as he goes.
Christ on a crutch, the man is a walking mass of sex appeal.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Cara’s number.
“Hey, how were the ski lessons?”
“I’m in the hospital.”
“Oh my God!”
“I’m kidding. The lessons have been great. I didn’t fall nearly as much as I thought I would.”
“We told you you’d love it! You can tell us all about it tonight at girls’ night out.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I won’t be able to make it.”
“Why?”
“Well, I might be having an affair with my ski instructor. Except he’s not an instructor, he’s the billionaire hottie that bought the joint.” I bite my lip as silence descends on the call. “Cara?”