“It’s worth a little frostbite to have this view.” She pulled the folds of his coat around her, snuggling closer. “I love your coat. You wore it the night of my show and when you walked in I thought you looked like a highwayman.”
He wondered what she’d say if he confessed he was considering stealing her away from bankers and any other men her parents might consider suitable replacements for Richard. “You’re saying I look like a criminal.”
“I’m saying you look sexy and badass in all that black.” She gazed out across the city. Beneath them the River Thames wound like a lazy serpent through decades of history, hiding a thousand secrets in its murky depths. “This is awesome. I feel like Aladdin on his magic carpet.”
He breathed deeply and eased away from her slightly. “Just as long as you know that the thing you’re rubbing isn’t a lamp. Do you always spin reality into fantasy?”
“Who says it’s fantasy? Maybe it’s just a different way of looking at things.” She leaned her head against the glass. “Some people might look out of this window and see a city at night, but half close your eyes and tell me what you see, Alec.”
Right now he couldn’t see anything through the red mist of raw lust.
He could smell the scent of her and feel her slender form pressed against him. “I see buildings. Lights people haven’t bothered to turn off. I see an eco nightmare and an oasis of global warming.”
She gave a gurgle of laughter. “No, you’re telling me what you know is there. Look again and tell me what you see.”
Her laugh was like the rest of her. Unrestrained and honest.
Dragging his eyes from her hair, he looked across darkness and shimmering light.
“I see thousands of years of history. Romans, Vikings, William the Conqueror. I see rape, pillage and plunder.”
“Ugh. You’re warped.” She shuddered. “Trust you to spoil a lovely view with grisly facts.”
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me what you see. You’re the artist.”
“I see diamonds and pearls, onyx and obsidian. I see secrets and wild affairs, a beautiful woman dancing at a masked ball—”
“Presumably not with her husband.”
“Why not her husband?”
“Because she’s disguising herself. If she was dancing with her husband, she wouldn’t wear a mask. She doesn’t want to be recognized.”
“Or maybe she’s adding some excitement to their lives. She’s loyal, she loves him, but they’re pretending they’re strangers.” She presented the alternate scenario then turned her head and looked in a different direction. “I love this so much. I’m so glad you brought me—that I didn’t miss this—”
He didn’t want to be charmed but he was, and looking up, he realized that so were a group of men in suits in the capsule above them who seemed more taken with Skylar than London.
Frowning, Alec shifted his position so that he obstructed their view.
Her infectious enthusiasm combined with her ravishing beauty made her the object of attention from every unattached male who passed within range of her sunbeam smile.
She didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, Alec.” She turned that sunbeam smile on him. “This was a brilliant idea.”
He pulled her against him. “Come back with me.” He hadn’t planned to say it. Hadn’t even acknowledged that he was thinking it. It was a crazy idea.
“To the hotel? Of course. I don’t have anywhere else to stay since you made me cancel my room.”
“Not to the hotel. To Puffin Island. Forget New York.”
She eased away from him. “I am coming back to Puffin Island. I already told you—”
“Not next week, tomorrow. I’ll book you on my flight to Boston. We’ll travel together.”
“Brittany isn’t expecting me until next week.”
“You won’t be staying with Brittany.”
Her beautiful eyes widened. “Just to be clear, you’re suggesting—”