Chapter 57

"It’s one of the hotel’s best. Not five stars, but this is a small town. Surely you understand that," Chase said and raised his brow at her. "The type of room that allows the occupants to step into a different world and lets all their fantasies come true!"

Her head snapped up at his husky tone, her skin prickling in alarm at the basest desire glittering in his eyes.

"Nice try, Chase. Nice try!" Amaya said with annoyance.

Oh, heck, why did he have to go and mention fantasies? It would’ve been hard enough resisting him without the added pressure of envisioning all sorts of inventive ways she could share a room with the hottest guy to walk the earth, possibly seeing him naked, his hair ruffled by sleep first thing in the morning, that sexy smile playing about his mouth...

"Whatever this suite is, I’m sure the room will be fine. Either way, you are sleeping on the couch."

Could she sound any lamer?

"Oh, it’s better than fine. The couch is okay with me though."

Amaya inhaled sharply, Chase’s subtle woody aftershave that had teased her for the last hours, warping her senses when she had a precarious enough hold on them as it was.

"It’s the French suite. Hope you like it. Not that they have a better one in this town, maybe after two or three years. It will be the Johnson Hotel."

The French Suite?

Suddenly, her magnanimous decision to share a room for a faux wedding night with Chase took on a whole new meaning.

A basic, boring, run-of-the-mill room she could’ve handled. Something like the French suite sounded way too seductive for comfort. Though right now, with Chase palming a key card out of his pocket as they stopped outside an elaborate ivory and gold door, she had more important things to worry about.

Such as how she could keep the guy she’d loved all those years ago at arm’s length.

More importantly, did she really want to?

Chase gripped Amaya’s hand as he slid their room card into the slot and waited for the tiny green light to flash.

Their room. Everything vanished—her worries, her family, her child—and now it was just her and Chase. Her husband.

They’d be sharing a room tonight, their wedding night.

He could barely think of anything else as he pushed the door open and gestured for her to step inside.

"Holy crap! Are you serious?"

Amaya's gasp of surprise had him standing taller. Every inch of this hotel was his idea, from the boutique-styled foyer with its casual elegance to the extensive range of ‘fantasy’ suites designed to please the most discerning traveller.

"You like it? It's Donna’s idea, by the way," he smiled.

"What the hell—"

"Come on, Amaya, no one knew about our little arrangement; to them, our marriage was real. No one knew about the contract, not even Justin or Tyler."

She sighed as Chase watched her face turn pink.

Having the woman he’d married, the woman whose opinion he’d always valued, admire this room filled him with pride.

"You like it?"

"Do I look like I have a say in this? Jesus, we had a deal, remember?"

"Come on, this is not my idea," he lied.

"Chase, we are not doing anything aside from sleeping; that's very clear in our contract. I am your employee and you are my boss. That's it; nothing fancy is going to happen here."

"I know! But there is no harm in making them think that we were in love."

"Oh God! You are seriously out of your mind."

How could he be this selfish? If he was doing it just for the sake of their contract with no feelings involved, then he was damn wrong because all she ever wanted to do was kiss the hell out of this man and slap the hell out of his face so he would admit that he loved her back.

Of course. That was not going to happen.

She nodded and breathed heavily as her eyes swept the room, alighting on the massive four-poster king-size bed covered in gold and ivory cushions and draped in yards of filmy chiffon—he’d labelled it ‘some fancy thin material’ and stood corrected by the aghast interior designer who’d taken him through the hotel suite by suite when he’d first dreamed up the idea.

The memory brought a smile to his face, a smile that quickly broadened when Amaya turned her wide eyes, now filled with mischief, towards him.

"Knowing your sense of humour, for a second there when you mentioned the French suite, I had visions of a maid’s outfit hanging in the wardrobes rather than fluffy robes and baskets of…"

She trailed off and bit her tongue, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Of?"

With crimson cheeks, she said, "French letters."

He chuckled and urged her into the room with a gentle push on the small of her back.

"I haven’t heard condoms called those in years."

She waved her hand at him. "Oh God! Forget I said anything. Speaking before I think."

She looked adorable with her flaming cheeks and wobbly smile, in stark contrast to her wedding gown and upswept hair.

He shouldn’t tease her; he really shouldn’t, but he didn’t have her on the back foot very often, and he couldn’t resist.

"If this suite is too boring, we could always change to another. The Roman room, complete with marble columns around a central spa bath right in the bedroom, is pretty nifty. Or there’s the Scottish room with its lavish faux fireplace and fur rug in front of it, or if you’re feeling really adventurous, there’s always the Tack room, complete with whips, for those who need a little added excitement in their lives."

"A whips?"

Her voice came out with a squeak, and he laughed.

"Okay, so my friend is the owner; he just invented the tack room, but hey, what the hell, it might draw a few customers."

"What sort of hotel is he running here?"

"I resent what you’re implying, lady."

To his surprise, the mischief had returned to her eyes as she curled an eyebrow. "It’s wifey to you now."

Just like that, it hit him all over again.

They were married.

It was their wedding night.

And no amount of kidding around or playing the fool would douse his driving need to consummate this marriage.

Business might be the motivator behind their nuptials, but his unquenchable need to have Amaya in his arms again was a definite bonus.

Taking a step closer, he ran a fingertip down her arm, delighting in the slight tremor, proving she wasn’t as immune to him as she’d like him to believe.

"Wife…I like the sound of that."

"Ha! says the man who is afraid of commitments."

"That's rich, Amaya."

"It's true... but let me remind you, this is purely business."

"Of course I remember." he groaned with mischievousness in his tone.

Her biting response might have been edgy, but she didn’t move when his finger continued its leisurely exploration, reaching her shoulder, skimming along her collarbone, and resting in the hollow just above where her pulse beat frantically.

"Of course, this is just a business arrangement between the two of us; what could go wrong, wife?" he said, ducking his head to replace his finger with his lips, turned on by her low moan and the way her head fell back to give him better access.

Her skin tasted better than he remembered—deliciously soft with a hint of vanilla—and it took every inch of his rapidly dwindling willpower not to devour her on the spot.

"We have a deal. This isn’t supposed to happen," she murmured as his lips trailed slowly upwards, nuzzling behind her ear and nipping the lobe before swooping on her mouth in a fiery kiss that branded her his.

Raging need exploded in him as her tongue touched his—the same overpowering, overwhelming need that had driven him to possess her years earlier.

Nothing had changed—absolutely nothing. He was still the same star-struck guy, helpless under her spell.

He could deny his attraction to her, but he could never deny the raging inferno of his heart to himself.

The realisation should’ve angered him, for he was nothing like the blue-collar farm boy he’d once been. But he didn’t give a damn; he didn’t care two hoots. She now had him as ready and raring to go for her as he’d been as horny as before.

Wrenching his mouth from hers and dragging in a breath, he captured her face in his hands, noting the swollen lips, the rosy cheeks, and the eyes midnight-blue with passion, his libido roaring in response.

"You know something? This was meant to happen from the first moment we came back here."