Minutes later he settled next to her and drew her into his arms. She snuggled close.
“How does this feel?” he asked, his fingers brushing lightly over the bandage just above her waist.
“Doesn’t hurt, the painkillers have kicked in. Besides, it wasn’t as bad as it looked, you know that.”
“She’s not the only one out there with a grudge, honey.”
“I know, Rick. It’s okay, really. I know you and my dad think of me as a kid, but I do understand what being with you means. The good and the bad. I made my choice, stop trying to make me change my mind.”
He kissed her, the caress slow, deep and loving. When she drew back, she grinned up at him. “I have a question.”
His eyebrow shot up and he eyed her. “And that would be?”
“The Mayfair’s been deserted for about a thousand years or so.” She laughed when his eyes rolled, then continued, “How in hell did we have a hot bath in the place?”
He laughed until they both shook, then kissed her again before he answered. “That was one of the trickier parts of the whole thing. I had to pay big bucks to have the plumbing fixed.”
She frowned. “Why would you be allowed to do that?”
“I bought the place, honey. It was the only way.”
She laughed until she was gasping. “When you plan a surprise, you don’t spare the expense, do you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe we’ll renovate and I can retire and be an innkeeper?”
“What about the ghosts?” Silence for several minutes, and she finally dared to look him in the eye. “You’re not telling me I’m crazy. Why?”
He didn’t flinch or laugh at her. “Something lives in that hotel,” he admitted with care. “And whatever it is,” a pause, “whoever it is…they held you in those seconds it took for me to reach you. You should have had your throat at least partly cut. There’s not a mark on you.”
“I wondered if you’d realize that,” she murmured. “It was like someone was holding my arms for a second, keeping me suspended until you reached me.”
He nodded. “Maybe we’ll be able to do something for them someday. Find out what really happened and let them rest in peace at last.”
Epilogue
One week later
The pounding at the door finally dragged Cinthya from bed for the second time that morning, and she stumbled down the hallway as she ran a hand through her tangled hair. Rick had left a couple of hours earlier after a rather satisfying start to the day, and she hadn’t missed the opportunity to snatch some extra sleep. She couldn’t figure out who’d be at the door on a Sunday morning.
“Yes? What do you want?” she mumbled once she’d pulled the door open and was gazing at two men, one of them carrying a large box. The sight of the strangers sparked fear, and she was pushing the door shut again when one of them spoke and halted her action.
“Rick told us to drop this stuff off,” the one with the box said. “You’re supposed to pay us.”
She had a vague recollection of Rick telling her something about an envelope on the desk and she left them to go in search of the thing. She found it and was back a minute later.
“Are you Eric Damon?” she asked, reading the name on the envelope.
“Yeah, and I think this is yours,” Eric replied, handing over the box.
Cinthya closed the door after them, locked it again, and went as far as the dining room with the box before she decided to look inside. Her face turned scarlet when she reached in it and picked up the handcuffs sitting on top of the red silk sheets and black velvet from the hotel the previous week. Rick’s clean-up crew—what the hell had they thought of this stuff?
“I’ll kill him,” she fumed, feeling her face grow even warmer when she realized the two men had probably been responsible for setting up the night as well. Her hands clutched at the handcuffs, then an idea began to form. A slow smile spread across her face, and she laughed with delighted wickedness as she began to plot her revenge.
About Denysé Bridger
Canadian born and bred, and a lifelong dreamer, I began writing at an early age and can’t recall a time when I wasn’t creating in some artistic form. My life has had several ongoing love affairs that shape much of what I write—the American West, Victorian England, cowboys, pirates, Greek Gods and Ancient Egypt. The other endless love affair in my life is Italia and all its magic, beauty and dazzling culture. That passion spills into all aspects of my life.
To stay current with my many projects, or to just say hello, please feel free to email me anytime. I promise I will do my best to answer everyone, though it may take a day or two, so please be patient! Or feel free to sign up for my newsletter, which is called Romance and Fantasy. If you prefer to chat with me and other readers, the newsgroup is open to everyone. Denysé Bridger News.
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Also by Denysé Bridger
Hide and Secret
Jaded Hearts
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Reckless Assignation
ISBN 9781419942488
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Reckless Assignation Copyright © 2013 Denysé Bridger
Edited by Jillian Bell
Photography and cover design by Syneca
Model: Omar
Electronic book publication February 2013
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Denysé Bridger, Reckless Assignation
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