Bound For Me

by Natalie Anderson

  “Too early for you?” Connor frowned. He always called Logan early in the morning.

  For all his playboy antics, Logan knew the markets. He was a far better source of investment advice than their father.

  “Am I boring?” Connor couldn’t keep the random question back.

  “Pardon?” Logan growled.

  “Boring. Am I boring?” Connor leaned back and lifted his foot on the chair opposite. “You’re all wild man, Hunter’s all secretive. Xander’s all good guy, Rocco’s suave. I’m the worker bee. Boring.”

  “Uh… I’d have said you were single minded.”

  “But that can be boring.”

  “What, you want to suddenly go adrenalin? Or start singing and dancing? Start screwing around? Being in all the papers? You want to come down from the mountain?” Logan laughed. “You love the mountain too much.”

  Was that his problem? She’d been scathing about his ‘honor’ and his sense of duty to the mountain. But she had no idea what it meant to him. “And is that boring of me?”

  “No. That’s just who you— Oh god. Temptress.”

  Connor heard Logan’s sharply sucked in breath and figured his brother wasn’t talking to him. Oh. So that’s what Logan had meant about changing the time he called. “What’s she done?”

  “She’s ah... never mind.”

  Connor heard a feminine giggle in the background.

  “Minnnnx.” Logan choked.

  Min was Logan’s fiancée.

  “You want to hang up and go after her?”

  “Can’t. She’s cuffed my ankles.”

  Connor closed his eyes, that wasn’t an image he really wanted in his head. “Never thought you’d let yourself get tied down.”

  “Love it. Love her.” Logan suddenly laughed. “She’s wicked. And she’s—oh fuck—”

  “I’m happy for you. I’ll call back later.”

  There was a muffled groan. “Might be a good idea…”

  Connor ended the call and tossed his phone down, reluctantly laughing to himself.

  His playboy brother had been such a risk-taker. Now Logan was more playful than ever but in such a different way. He was happy. After all the years of taking stupid risks, trying to win it all—purely to gain the approval of their distant father? All the years of being as wild as possible—because he’d realized that approval was impossible to gain and he didn’t care anymore. Now he cared—about Min. Min who had a playful streak of her own.

  He stood and went to the window, looked out at the beautiful view. His whole life he’d felt soothed looking at the mountain. It made him feel free.

  He’d show the complex to Savannah. She’d be forced to see that at least one of the things his father claimed was true, Summerhill was perfect.

  And then he’d distract her some more. Keep her occupied, sated, until she’d forgotten her anger with him and accepted the fact there was no fault here. It was the perfect plan.

  Under his watch Summerhill would always be safe.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She arrived early. Her face was pale. Her beautiful hair was swept up into a sleek high knot. Immediately he wanted to loosen it and mess it up. And bring some color back to her cheeks.

  “I’ll show you around the buildings first.” He forced himself to behave. “We can finish with the office. You can pry into my paperwork all you like, if you really want to.”

  “Sounds fine.” She sounded so damn prim, like she hadn’t been sucking him off so hard his eyes had practically rolled back into his head less than twelve hours ago.

  He forced himself to regulate his breathing and not go cave-man. That wasn’t the way to win her over. He’d take it slow. Small, teasing, touches. Nearness. Make her want it so much she couldn’t control herself any more.

  “You’ve seen the town, right? Know we own almost all the stores. The smaller hotel units. But the Lodge is the jewel.”

  “And you don’t own St Clair’s.”

  “No, that restaurant is privately owned. So are a couple of others.”

  She nodded. “But your family designed the town layout?”

  “Yes.” A purpose built town, his father and grandfather had gone for a picturesque Swiss alpine village look. Parts of the buildings had been refurbished since their original construction to embrace modern technology and the ever growing demands of guests. “It’s small, secure, beautiful.”

  “In your humble opinion.”

  “Not opinion. Fact.” He turned and walked, pleased as she fell into step beside him.

  She had boots on with her jeans and a thick coat. And he couldn’t stop looking at her. Questions kept popping into his head—he wanted to know everything about her. But he kept up the hotel history patter. Tried to keep cool. “There are actually two lodges. The smaller one, which the family has always occupied, as well as select guests. And then there’s the bigger one. Along the road, there are the chalet options. All are fully serviced, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He led her through the family lodge, watched her eyes widen as she took in the ‘Great Hall’ with its massive twin fireplaces, the twin staircases, the art on the walls. He ignored the repeated chimes of his phone and led her through a guest suite, and restrained himself when she reached out and touched the soft furnishings, her appreciation of them patently obvious.

  But he’d hardly started. “Want to see the secret tunnel?”

  She raised a single eyebrow. “You have a secret tunnel?”

  “The guests love it.”

  “So it’s a well kept secret then.”

  The tunnel took them to the second lodge, the one with the library, the restaurant, the private film theater… and they were just for starters.

  “It’s even more exclusive than I imagined,” she murmured as he showed her around.

  “And that’s not a good thing?”

  “Why would it be?” She threw him a look. “So it’s just a fancy place for spoilt people with too much money to come and hang out together? And feel even more exclusive?”

  “It’s not like that, most of our guests truly love the snow. Love skiing.”

  She actually shuddered.

  “You don’t like the snow?”

  “It’s cold and wet. What’s to like?”

  Uh huh, she’d really woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

  He laughed. “Yeah, like you don’t like ice. Let me show you the ballroom.” He turned briskly, before she felled him with the death-look. He knew she was just going to loathe the ultimate showpiece.

  Sure enough, she stood in the center of the vast room, looking up at the three massive chandeliers, then at the series of wide, fireplaces, the gilt-edged mirrors. Her eyes were wide, but shadows were deepening within them.

  “You have many parties?” she asked.

  “Too many,” he admitted. “We’re getting lots of wedding requests but I limit those.”

  “To keep it exclusive?”

  “Of course.”

  “Because you couldn’t have the ordinary riff-raff here enjoying themselves, only the spoilt predatory types.”

  He laughed. “People like to feel like they’re coming somewhere special. We have guests who make it a once in a lifetime trip and others who come year round. They all are treated the same. I never wanted to be a party-planner. But the amount some families are willing to pay is too much to ignore. And if it keeps numbers down while the bottom line, up, then that’s all good.”

  “Numbers down?” She shook her head. “Unreal.”

  “Why? No one likes crowds.”

  “Is that why you like to keep your restaurant so empty?” She turned limpid eyes on him and moved beyond the large circular tables and into the dance area.

  He laughed. “We don’t do as badly as you’d like to think. Yes, St Clair’s is the most popular, but that doesn’t mean it’s the best.”

  “You go on thinking that if it makes you feel better,” she purred.

  “You thin
k you’re the best behind the bar?” To his surprise, he saw her shoulders stiffen. Her head lift.

  “You know I am,” she said.

  “And you’re teaching Dante some tricks.”

  “A few.”

  “Where did you train?” He followed her onto the dancefloor. She’d definitely tensed.

  “The International Academy of YouTube.”

  Ah. Self-taught. Self-motivated. Smart. “No formal qualifications?”

  She turned and walked off the dance floor. “I did finish school.”

  “Congratulations. And then I’m guessing you went straight into full time work.”

  “Exactly.”

  So defensive. Had she wanted to study but couldn’t? Was she saving for it now? He’d bet on it. So why was she here and not using the money her father had gotten from the sale of their hotel to study?

  “Presumably you have Ivy League qualifications coming out your ears,” she grumbled.

  He smiled, pleased she was curious about him too. “Actually no. I went straight into work too. Studied while working.”

  “So you’ve been here your whole life?”

  “Pretty much.”

  She turned just before the wide doorway, her eyes glittered. “Can’t handle it in the real world?”

  “Why would I want to.” He stood under one of the crystal chandeliers and spread his arms wide. “When I have this?”

  And to really ram the point home, he took her to the Sanctuary. Showed her the indoor pool that had an infinity effect that he still couldn’t figure how the architects had gotten to work.

  “What’s your verdict?” he asked, having given her ten minutes to just look.

  “Jury’s still out on many things.” She gazed over the pool, but a defeated expression flickered in her eyes. “It does look perfect.” She turned, ran her gaze over him. “Absolutely perfect.”

  Just like that he was hard. Correction. Harder.

  “You use the pool?” she asked.

  “Every day. And the gym.” He hadn’t shown her that yet.

  “For a couple hours?” Her cheeks pinked.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, surprised. “How did you know?”

  “You don’t get your kind of muscle definition without serious training. It helps you sleep?”

  “Usually.”

  Her lashes lowered. “You didn’t sleep well last night?”

  “My ribs were sore.” Which was true, but not what had kept him awake.

  “Of course.”

  “Would you like to make use of the spa? If you want to sample any of the options, I can arrange it.”

  “Oh, you do the massages?” Her lips curved wickedly. “Didn’t you say you’ve done all the jobs at the resort at some point or other?”

  He realized she was doing it deliberately. That all his great plans to stay close, to touch, to tempt her with simmering looks… were exactly what she was doing to him. Only her talk was more tart. Her looks more effective.

  “Come on.” He took her hand. “I’ll take you to the offices. You can see command central.”

  “The seat of power? I can hardly wait.”

  It was a normal boring office space really, just with an exceptional view and neatly and discreetly attired staff who knew to steer clear. As Savannah took in the gleaming screens and paperless desks, Connor took the chance to check through the zillion messages that had landed in the hour he’d been with her.

  Nothing too major. Nothing that couldn’t wait another few minutes.

  “Is this your desk?” She gestured at the empty desk that stood in the most private corner of the large room.

  “No. One of our assistants finished with us recently,” he said uncomfortably. Cynthia had been his father’s latest. His messiest affair. In the end she’d resigned, but Connor had managed to get her a large final pay packet. Poor woman had believed she truly loved Rex. She so hadn’t grasped the rules of the game his father played. “I’ve yet to recruit a replacement but my managers are coping.”

  “So where’s your office?” Savannah looked about. “Through there?” She pointed at the door to the office that was so conveniently near Cynthia’s old desk.

  His father’s office. Now also empty.

  “No” He walked away from the scene of so many infidelities. “I’m upstairs.”

  “Away from everyone?”

  “I like my space.”

  “Show me.”

  Oh that little purr deserved a reward. “I’ll take you the secret way.”

  “Another ‘secret’ passage that all the tourists love?” she mocked him.

  “No this one really is a secret. Though actually, you’ve been up there before.”

  Savannah followed him up the narrow, never-ending spiral staircase. “You’re right up in the attic?”

  “Yeah, it has the best view.”

  “It’s your eyrie.” His eagle’s nest. So appropriate for him. A solitary predator who liked to see all of his world at once. Make sure everything was just perfect.

  He flashed her a gorgeous wide smile. “Exactly.”

  It was a beautiful suite. There was none of the over the top ornate opulence of the ballroom, or the mountain lodge grandeur of the great hall. This was minimal in its decor and not ridiculous in its size either.

  The whole effect was calming. Quietening.

  There were the cozy fireplaces but that was it. Because you didn’t need anything to detract from the view.

  She looked out the window on the side that showed the slopes. The first ski-lift operated almost from the door of the larger lodge.

  “What did your father want, really?” Connor’s soft question broke into her thoughts.

  “Success.” She shrugged. “He thought he could model himself on the great Rex Hughes. But your family had such an advantage. You already had money. Already had status. Already had this mountain. The ordinary guy can’t compete with this. Can’t ever achieve it.”

  “Maybe not on this scale, but you owned a hotel, right? He wanted more?”

  Her father had wanted his wife back. His dignity. Wanted measurable, recognisable success. And then he’d thought he’d be happy. “He wanted to make our hotel this successful. He wanted to be the big man in town.”

  “Why?”

  “Why does anyone want that? But it doesn’t matter. He’s lost it all.” She turned and caught Connor’s frown, but she was thinking about something else now. Needed to think about something else. “I slept up here the other night, didn’t I?”

  “There’s a guest room on the other side of a small lounge through that door, yes.”

  Desire flamed through her. She turned back to the view.

  “Savannah?” He sounded as edgy as she felt.

  “I hate it,” she whispered.

  “What?” Now he sounded stunned.

  “It’s so gorgeous. I hate it.” She didn’t want to like it. Didn’t want to accept that it was every bit as amazing as the damn promotional material stated. More amazing. It was perfect. “The whole place is so smooth. Everything runs like clockwork. So elite. So exclusive. And that’s just the hotel itself. Because then there’s that.” She pointed to that mountain and it’s unbelievable beauty.

  “So Rex wasn’t full of lies?”

  “Not about Summerhill, no.” She turned back to face him. “There’s no need to look so smug.”

  “I’m not.” He strolled towards her. “You’re not happy, Sugar? You’ve seen it all but you’re not happy? You can’t let it go?”

  “I haven’t seen it all. Not yet.”

  “What haven’t you seen?”

  “Your room.” She watched the arrogance in his expression burn up as desire flared.

  Good. She needed him to help her forget what it was he reminded her of.

  He walked to the double doors on the farthest wall, turned both handles and pushed. Then he stood back and waited.

  Savannah walked until she stood just inside the doorway. The bed, like everything
else in the building, was big, expensive, beautiful. And not what she wanted right now.

  She turned her back on the bed and reached up to pull him to her.

  “Something else you want to explore, Sugar?” he laughed, pulling her close.

  “Kiss me.”

  She could lose herself in those kisses. And that was the problem.

  She pulled back, pulled a condom from her pocket, felt satisfaction kick when his expression sharpened.

  “Bruises okay?” she asked.

  “Not a problem.” He snaked his hands round her waist, stroked.

  He was acting brave, but she liked that he wanted her enough to put up with the pain. “The bed will be too soft, not good for your ribs.”

  He looked startled, then thoughtful. “So what do you suggest?”

  He had her jeans undone already. Sly.

  “The floor is firmer, the rug here soft.”

  “And the fire warm.”

  “Very warm,” she agreed. “So you’d better get naked.”

  He groaned. Then sighed. “We can’t.” His phone chimed, proving the point.

  “We can if we’re quick. And you know I can be quick.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m going to kiss you.” He dropped to his knees. Ignoring the phone.

  “Oh no. Everything this time. Now.” She knelt too, managed to get his zipper undone.

  “Demanding.”

  “You’re the one who promised.” And she needed the escape right now.

  His phone chimed. Again.

  “Turn it off.”

  He glanced at it a moment. Then at her. And switched it off.

  She tossed it out of reach, bending to taste him the way she had last night.

  “High-speed Savannah.”

  “You’re complaining?”

  “Never.”

  She tried to roll the condom onto him, only her hands were shaking too much.

  Seeing her struggle, he laughed, so damn sexy.

  “You do it,” she snapped at him. Damn it, she just wanted him.

  He took it off her, still laughing. “Slow down, I’m not taking you yet.”

  “Why not?”

  He hesitated.

  “You think that stuff is still in my system?” She rolled her eyes. “Or is it that you’re having second thoughts?”