Breathing deep, he took her scent into him. Wildflowers. Of course, wild, just like her. Slowly, softly, he ran his lips down her neck to her shoulder, pausing where he felt her pulse thunder. Time seemed to stop as they balanced on the edge of a precipice. Should they step into the unknown or retreat to safety? Fingers moved on his chest, stroking. Once. Twice. The decision had been made—they were taking the leap together.
Cotton sheets brushed his knuckles as he pressed her back against the shelves, the cool material a stark contrast to the warmth under his palms. She emitted a sexy little sigh, her hands sliding up and around his neck as Logan gently kissed the curve of her throat. Their breathing became heavier, the sound of blood rushing through his veins so much louder. Slowly, deliberately, he kissed his way along her jaw to her mouth. Her skin was as smooth as he’d imagined it to be, exactly like satin-soft rose petals.
There was a second, a pause, where he hovered over her lips, barely a hair’s breadth between them as they inhaled each other’s air.
“Agnes?” he whispered the request against her lips.
Her answer was immediate, but it wasn’t expressed in words. Instead, her tongue nipped out to taste him. And with a groan, he was gone. Clasping the back of her head, he angled his mouth over hers, threading his fingers through all that glorious, silken hair. They seduced each other with lips, and teeth, and tongue. Slow, languorous, drugged kisses that made his heart beat faster and the world fade to nothing.
Her fingers clasped the hair at his nape, tugging him to her as her leg slid up the outside of his thigh. Logan hooked a hand under it, pressing his hard length against her, swallowing her moan. He was a teen again, lost in a long, stolen kiss. Hoping it’d never end. Praying that she’d let him go further, but not yet, not while the kissing was so damn good.
A brutally sharp rap at the door jerked them back to reality.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Mrs. Edwards’ voice invaded the closet. “But the soundproofing in the store cupboard isn’t the best, and I figured you’d want to move somewhere more comfortable soon anyway. Oh, and the camera wasn’t stuck up properly. It fell off the wall. I’ll just leave it on the floor beside the door. Night, night, you two. Have fun!”
Logan leaned his forehead against Agnes’, smiling at their ludicrous situation. “How did she know it was us?” Damn, but he wanted to keep on kissing her. It didn’t matter that they were in a closet and one of the hotel guests was eavesdropping just outside. He just wanted more of the woman in his arms.
“Ears like a bat.” Agnes sounded breathless, and he couldn’t help but preen. “She misses nothing,” she said. “Unless she’s talking about Josh at the time. She also makes good use of the spy hole in her door.”
It sounded like it wasn’t the first time Agnes had been caught out by Mrs. Edwards. “You don’t make a habit of seducing men in storage cupboards, do you?”
Agnes growled at him. A sexy sound in the darkness of the tiny space.
“I’m joking. Come on, we’d better fix the camera. Then I need to get home to my kids.”
Every muscle in her body went taut. And then she squeezed past him to fumble with the door, throwing it wide as soon as she’d unlocked it. Light spilled into the closet, almost blinding him. When his eyes had adjusted, he discovered Agnes standing on the other side of the corridor, her arms folded.
“Kids?” She sounded far too polite, considering they’d been making out not two seconds earlier.
“A fourteen-year-old son and a twelve-year-old daughter.” Her eyes drifted to his left hand, and he felt like kicking his own backside. So that’s what was bothering her. He waggled his ring finger. “Divorced. Going on seven years.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, as though offering her condolences.
“I’m not. What’s going on, Agnes?” He took a step toward her, but she hurriedly retreated.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You need to get back to your kids, and I need to get to bed.” She blinked up at him with a perfectly bland, professional expression. “If you need to hurry home, I can finish up on my own. In fact, why don’t I just do that? It’s getting really late. Let me get your jacket for you.” And she jogged down the stairs to her office.
There was nothing Logan could do but follow and, before he could blink, he found himself with his jacket in his hand, standing outside the hotel, while she locked the door behind him. For a few minutes, he just stood there, staring at the doors and wondering what the hell just happened.
And then, he went home to his kids.
Agnes leaned her head against the closed front door and listened to Logan walk away. “It’s for the best,” she whispered.
Getting together with Logan when she knew she’d be leaving was one thing, but she couldn’t start something with no future when there were kids involved. It was best she stopped things now before someone got hurt.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she went back upstairs to finish putting up the cameras and found Mrs. Edwards waiting for her.
“I thought you two would be heading to the bedroom, but I saw you go downstairs instead,” the woman said, proving she’d been making good use of her spyhole again. She peered behind Agnes. “Where’s your young man?”
“He’s gone home, and he isn’t my young man.”
“That’s not what it sounded like when you were in the closet.”
They were silent for a moment before Agnes said, “Probably best if we don’t tell Dougal about this.”
“My lips are sealed.” Mrs. Edwards made a zipping gesture over her mouth. “You know, I thought Logan would stay. You seemed to be having fun.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yeah, well, the fun ended. Let’s just say things didn’t work out.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Was it an ego problem? Did you challenge his masculinity?” Mrs. Edwards patted her hand. “Men are such delicate creatures.”
Agnes cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think we know the same men.”
“It’s true.” Mrs. Edwards nodded. “They have fragile egos that are easily bruised. That’s why they strut so much. It’s an attempt to warn people away, so they can’t get close enough to damage them. You have to be very careful of their egos—it’s the key to a lasting relationship.” She stared into the distance. “My dear, departed husband, Harold, used to say, ‘Emily, you’re a queen amongst women because you know how to stroke a man.’”
Agnes almost choked on nothing and started coughing loudly.
“Oh dear, I’ll get you a glass of water.” Mrs. Edwards scurried away, passing another guest. Mr. Thompson, who was in his nineties, was in town visiting family. Although his kids had wanted him to stay with them, he’d told them he needed his own space. Agnes suspected his kids wouldn’t have looked favorably on the amount of whisky he put away before bed.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “I could hear the racket you’re making even without my hearing aids. You do realize it’s the middle of the night? The hallway isn’t the place to party.” Agnes kept coughing while he frowned down at her. “Are you sick? Do you need a hot toddy?”
Mrs. Edwards appeared again, a glass of water in her hand. Agnes took it gratefully.
“It’s the flu season,” Mr. Thompson told Mrs. Edwards. “She needs a hot toddy. That will sort her out. Do you want one an’ all?”
“Oh, yes, please,” Mrs. Edwards simpered.
“Back in a minute.” Tugging his dressing gown belt tight, Mr. Thompson stomped toward the stairs and the kitchen below them.
As she gulped down the water, Agnes held up a hand to stop him. “The kitchen’s locked for the night.”
“Don’t worry,” he said over his shoulder. “I know the code.”
“He has the code?” Agnes looked at Mrs. Edwards, who nodded.
“You know, to the metal number box that controls the lock.”
“Yes,” Agnes forced through gritted teeth. “I know what the box does. What I don’t know is how he has the code
.” Was there any security at all in this damn hotel?
“Oh, everybody has it,” Mrs. Edwards said dismissively. “It’s four zeroes. If you stay in the hotel for more than a week, you pick these things up. When I can’t sleep, I often go downstairs during the night and make myself a sandwich.”
Well, that explained the food missing from the kitchen. No need to put a camera there. But she was damn well changing the lock code.
“By any chance, do you also help yourself to soap and stuff from the store cupboard?” It was worth asking.
“No, I wouldn’t do that. Now, do you need more water?”
“I’m good,” Agnes groaned as Mrs. Edwards fussed around her, chatting about Josh for endless minutes.
“Here we go,” Mr. Thompson called as he came back up the stairs, thankfully interrupting yet another Josh story. “Hot toddies for everyone.” He carried a tray with steaming mugs and a huge cake. “And I found a chocolate cake in the fridge. Hadn’t been touched yet. It looks like we’re in for a treat.”
“That’s for tomorrow’s lunch crowd,” Agnes said.
Mr. Thompson and Mrs. Edwards looked so deflated that Agnes just sighed. “What the hell, have at it. I’ll get a replacement from the bakery.”
“Now that’s the spirit,” Mr. Thompson said. “Are we having a picnic out here in the hallway? Because I don’t think my arthritis could cope with sitting on the floor.”
“Come into my room.” Mrs. Edwards took his hand. “Have you seen my Josh McInnes cushions?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.” She smiled over her shoulder at Agnes. “Are you coming, honey?”
“No. I need to get to bed.”
Another door opened, and one of the young guests from Australia popped her head out. “What’s going on?” she said.
“We’re having chocolate cake in my room,” Mrs. Edwards said. “A midnight feast. It’s just like one of those books I read when I was in school. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Awesome.” The woman grinned and called back into her room, “Breanna, we’ve got cake. Get your backside out of bed.”
The door beside the Australians opened and the male half of the middle-aged couple from Holland appeared. “There is very much noise,” he said.
“We’re having chocolate cake.” Mrs. Edwards pointed at the tray. “Would you like to join us?”
He looked at everyone. Looked at the cake. Then shrugged. “For sure.” He called into the room. “Marijke, wij hebben lekkere chocolada taart met de buren.” He looked back at them with a wide smile. “Everything people say about Scotland is true. You are a very welcoming nation.”
“Isn’t it awesome?” Mrs. Edwards beamed at him as she led Mr. Thompson into her room. “Do you like Josh McInnes?” she asked the Dutchman.
“I think he is a singer, ya?” The man looked confused.
“Oh, he’s so much more than that,” Mrs. Edwards said as they all piled into her room, dressed in various sleepwear.
“Is this normal over here?” Breanna asked Agnes as she passed.
“Nowhere near it,” Agnes said.
With a bewildered smile, the Australian closed the door behind her, leaving Agnes with her hot toddy. She sank onto the top step and grimaced as she took a sip. It was good whisky ruined.
“I should never have kissed him,” she muttered to nobody.
Kissing a man was fun, but kissing a single father was terrifying. Kids needed stability and sacrifice. You couldn’t be selfish and have kids, and Agnes very much wanted to be selfish. She’d looked after her sisters for as long as she could remember.
Before she’d left home illegally at fourteen, not the sixteen they’d told everyone, she’d been the one to protect her sisters from bullies. And the one brave enough to sneak into their parents’ room while they slept, to take money out of their dad’s wallet so they’d have food the next day, instead of him drinking it away. And when Isobel had fallen pregnant at fifteen and their dad kicked her out, Agnes had been the one to leave with her.
It had been Agnes who’d lied about her age to pick up part-time jobs to support them. And Agnes who’d stolen when things got tough—and they’d been really tough when their two younger sisters left home to join them. By eighteen, she’d been responsible for her three sisters and her nephew. The weight of keeping everyone fed, clothed and warm was so heavy at times, she’d wondered if she’d ever get out from under it.
Yeah, she’d had enough of the responsibility and selflessness that went with bringing up kids. Now, she wanted to do all the things she couldn’t do when she was younger. She wanted to travel, and she wanted to live a carefree life. But most of all, she wanted the security she’d never had as a child. And the only way to get that was to work her way to the top of her profession.
Which couldn’t happen in Invertary.
So, no, starting something with a single father was the worst thing she could do.
Even if he did kiss like a god.
Chapter 6
A few short, restless hours after leaving the hotel, Logan found himself walking back through the front door while wondering what the hell he was going to say to Agnes. He was a father, and his kids lived with him. There wasn’t a whole helluva lot he could, or would want to, do about that. It didn’t mean things had to end between them. People with kids dated every day, and he just had to get to the bottom of why Agnes had reacted so badly when she discovered he was a father.
“Morning, Bernadette,” he called to the young woman behind the hotel reception desk.
Barely nineteen, the girl was more interested in the makeup tutorials she did for her YouTube channel than anything else.
“Good morning, sir. How may I help you?” she asked woodenly.
“Are you okay?” Normally she shouted, ‘Wassup?’ at him.
She glanced behind her toward the open door to Agnes’ office and shook her head. “She’s in a bad mood,” she hissed.
“Well, she can take it out on me.” He headed toward the open door.
Bernadette grabbed his arm with a look in her eye that said she was on the verge of hysteria. “Maybe you should come back later, like once the full moon has passed. I hear it affects her.”
It was hard not to grin. “I think I can cope with your boss.” He patted her hand before striding through the door.
Agnes sat behind one of the two desks, poring over a pile of receipts. She looked up at him, her face such a picture of professional disinterest you would never have guessed they’d kissed only hours earlier.
“You’ll be glad to hear I solved the food thefts,” she said. “So we can strike that off our list. It seems everyone staying in the hotel knew the code to the kitchen. I’ve changed it, so there shouldn’t be any more missing food. Unfortunately, there’s still the missing everything else to deal with. I’ll call if anything else is stolen or if the cameras show something new.”
With a polite smile, she returned to her work. He’d been dismissed.
Ignoring the dismissal, Logan closed the door behind him and sat in one of the guest chairs. “Are we going to talk about last night?”
Something flickered in her eyes before they turned cold again. “There’s nothing to talk about. We got carried away, and it won’t happen again.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Chemistry like that was pretty hard to resist.
“Look, Logan.” She put her clasped hands on the desk in front of her. “I had a lovely time last night, but I don’t want to start something that can’t go anywhere. I’m only in Invertary for a short amount of time and trust me when I say that I have no intention of staying here. A relationship with me is a dead end.”
He scratched his head. “You’re saying it isn’t even worth seeing if there’s something between us because you’re leaving anyway?”
“Exactly.” She beamed at him like he was a not-too-bright child.
He motioned between them. “What if this t
hing has the potential to be something great?”
“There is no ‘this thing.’ There was a kiss. That was it.”
“A pretty spectacular kiss.”
“I’m flattered you think so.”
“You’re flattered?” Was she saying it had been crap for her?
“I have it on good authority that the male ego is a fragile thing, so let’s not get into this.” She stood, walked over to the door, and opened it for him. “I’d be happy to have the camera feeds go to your phone too. It would be a relief to have someone else monitor them. Just give your number to Bernadette, and I’ll get that set up.”
“The camera feeds work over localized Wi-Fi. Even with the app, I’d only be able to see the feed if I was in the hotel.”
Her smile was frighteningly cold. “In that case, I’ll call if I need you.”
Logan had no other option but to leave. As he passed her, he paused. “That kiss was damn amazing, and you know it.”
“Have a nice day,” she said, before the door closed with him on the wrong side of it.
Logan stared at the door for a minute before turning to a fascinated Bernadette. “I don’t even know what happened in there.”
“She has that effect on everyone. It’s spooky. I’ve been having these weird random pains since she started working here. I searched her office, just in case there was a doll that looked like me that she was using as a pincushion. Nothing turned up. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I just need to look harder.”
Logan swallowed a sigh. “Bernadette, have you thought about going to college? You know, getting out of Invertary might do you good.”
“Oh, no.” Her heavily made-up eyes went wide. “It’s just a matter of time before my YouTube channel takes off, and I’m fine right here until it does. This job might not look like much, but they feed me, and when it’s slow, Dougal doesn’t mind if I work on my videos. How many jobs let you do that?”
Can't Buy Me Love: Romantic Comedy (Sinclair Sisters Trilogy Book 3) Page 5
