Читать книгу Pillow Chase - Jeanie London - Страница 8

IF EVER A WOMAN had been born to make a man think of sex, that woman was his wife, Miranda. And if ever a hotel had been designed to make Lieutenant Commander Troy Knight imagine the variety of ways to make love to his bride of barely two years, it was Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast.

This hotel had won the Most Romantic Getaway Award with good reason. Ever since they’d visited during the planning stages of their wedding, Troy had been impressed by how this hotel’s amenities focused on couples. Shops offered everything from sex toys to lingerie, and the brand-new Wedding Wing kicked off its grand opening with a large-scale promotional campaign called the Naughty Nuptials.

And then there were all these romance-themed suites.

The one spreading out before him now was an aphrodisiac of sight and sound, so exotic that Troy could only stand beside Miranda in the doorway and take it all in.

Purple silk veils draped gold furnishings. Statues of couples in erotic poses doubled as columns to separate the living and dining areas. Vases and screens made of colored stones. Sultry flute and cymbal music. Swaying rattan fans.

The Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid.

Whoever named this suite hadn’t been kidding.

A domed wall and ceiling of glass made up the far end of the room. Beyond lay a courtyard of foliage and flowers and bright summer sky. A garden oasis in the middle of gilded opulence. And this would be their home for the next three weeks.

Troy couldn’t stop smiling and didn’t bother to try. He pushed the door wide and motioned Miranda inside, appreciating the sight of her from this vantage. Slim and feminine, she moved with a sensual grace that always caught him hard. Even the black curls tumbling down her back made him think about how all that silky hair felt on his skin.

When he’d married her in an elaborate ceremony in this very hotel nearly two years ago, Troy hadn’t realized that his desire for her could grow any stronger. He’d guessed marriage would satisfy his hunger and make them more comfortable together.

In some ways it had, but marriage hadn’t dulled the ache inside that pushed him to shut this door and keep her all to himself until they had to return to the real world.

That ache still took him by surprise. The feeling was potent, urgent, as if he couldn’t get enough time with his wife and wanted to make the most of every second together.

Troy knew this feeling intimately. As a career naval officer, he’d experienced his share of situations where urgency kept him alive. To return to Miranda.

“So what do you think of our suite, Mrs. Knight?” He closed the door and shut out the world.

“I’m not sure what to think.”

Her silky voice started his pulse humming, and he covered the distance to where she stood inspecting their surroundings, eyes wide and kissable lips parted. Plucking the purse from her hand, Troy hung it on the back of a chair. “This suite looks like the Web site.”

“Only in real-time.”

Her voice gave no clue whether she thought real-time was a good thing, so he lifted her stylish hat away to free up his view. Just a glimpse, and Troy recognized the distance in her expression, the shadows in her gaze.

Real-time should have been a great thing. Three weeks together in a romance resort after months spent apart during his latest deployment should have been better than great.

But Miranda’s closed expression suggested otherwise. He recognized the look—one she wore in public—a beautiful, perfect mask that showed no hint what she felt inside.

Miranda excelled at dealing socially with his commanding officers. She was the envy of his peers, and Troy enjoyed having her on his arm during the many functions that were as much a part of his career as his special operations missions. He’d been reared military and understood the game. To others, his wife was an extension of him, half of the whole. He was very proud of her.

But Troy loved Miranda best when she let her hair down and looked eager. She didn’t look eager now. She looked…unreadable. Her public persona was firmly in place, her expression so remote he’d have needed a nuclear sub to maneuver the distance to his wife. The wife he knew was in there. Somewhere.

He had three weeks to find her.

“Who knew they could come up with a suite wilder than the Roman Bagnio?” he said, a reminder of the romance-themed suite they’d enjoyed on their wedding night not so long ago.

“Those baths were definitely wild.”

Folding her in his arms, he drank in the feel of her smooth curves, warm and familiar and inviting. “Definitely wild. This time we’ll be around here long enough to put these facilities to good use.”

“Our wedding night wasn’t enough for you last time, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Not even close.”

They’d been the last couple to be married at Falling Inn Bed before construction had started on the new Wedding Wing. Now that the addition to the historic hotel was finally complete, they’d been invited back to participate in the inaugural events as the featured honeymoon couple.

Troy had been all for this vacation. The ongoing war against terrorism had been demanding his attention through most of their marriage. While separation was a normal part of their life together—he’d been stationed in Norfolk pre-9/11 when they’d met—regular deployment into the action had been keeping him away more than usual.

A lot more than was healthy for any relationship.

Troy couldn’t say if the separation was a problem. He and Miranda didn’t argue. They weren’t angry with each other or disappointed with anything but the length of time they spent apart. Yet lately whenever he returned from a mission, it took longer and longer to find her behind that perfect wife persona she wore in public.

He thought she might be dealing with some wartime anxiety issues, but she’d assured him that his e-mail posts and phone calls kept her stress manageable. As far as she was concerned, they’d always dealt with separation. She pointed out how his mother had a husband and two children serving various functions in the armed forces right now. If he wasn’t worried about how his mother coped, he shouldn’t be worried about her.

Troy could only take her at her word. No stranger to a demanding lifestyle, Miranda was part of a politically active family, which came with a set of demands as unique as his own. She could maneuver the territory.

Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman who meant everything to him was quietly retreating behind an invisible wall. Or that the intimacy, which had always been such an amazing part of their relationship, was slipping away. Troy might not be sure what the problem was, but there was a problem. He felt it down deep.

He had three weeks to get Miranda to share whatever was bothering her.

And Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast happened to be the perfect place to carry out that mission objective. This hotel specialized in couples, and when they were together, the rest of the world ceased to exist, which was exactly what needed to happen so they could focus on what was really important.

Each other.