Snowbound Seduction

Zac nodded. ‘A mile or so down the road.’

‘And you were going somewhere nice?’ She eyed their suitcases. ‘What a shame. Come over by the fire and get warm anyway, and I’ll get you a drink on the house. What’ll you have? A brandy to warm you up, dear?’ she offered, smiling at Rachel, who smiled back wanly.

Rachel had glanced around the pub. It seemed pretty full. The same thought must have occurred to Zac because he said quietly, ‘We were going to stay with friends for the weekend but the weather’s put paid to that. Have you got a couple of rooms vacant?’

The plump little woman pursed her lips. ‘Oh, dear, normally that’d be no problem but we’ve a party of walkers staying for the weekend.’ She gestured at the throng behind her. ‘The only thing I could offer you is what we call the attic room on the second floor—it’s reached by a staircase off the first floor landing. I don’t normally have any call for it because the ceiling is really low and what with the steep stairs and all…’ She eyed Zac’s six-foot-two, broad-shouldered figure doubtfully. ‘But I always keep it aired just in case, and since we had the roof insulated and the new windows it’s as warm as toast up there.’

‘We’ll take it.’ Rachel would have curled up on the stoneflagged floor rather than venture outside again. She could see the remains of meals on some of the tables and now she added hopefully, ‘Are you still serving food?’

‘Oh, aye, dear. It’s only half eight.’ The landlady smiled cheerily. ‘Why don’t I show you the room and then you can come down and have a drink while you look at the menu?’

Suddenly the world was back on its axis.

As they followed the landlady—leaving two puddles where they’d been standing—Zac caught hold of Rachel’s arm. ‘One room,’ he murmured softly. ‘Sure you’re happy with that?’

‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ she whispered back as they emerged into a back hall, which had a staircase leading from it. ‘And it’s just somewhere to sleep for tonight.’ She met his gaze, adding firmly, ‘Just sleep.’

‘Message received and understood.’ Zac’s mouth had twitched.

Once on the first-floor landing, which was all creaking varnished floorboards and whitewashed walls, the landlady led them past a number of doors to the end of the passage where they saw a narrower door. She opened this and they continued to follow her up an almost vertically steep staircase, the middle of each tread worn to a smooth depression by centuries of feet.

‘Used to be the servants’ quarters,’ the landlady informed them over her shoulder. ‘Poor things.’ Then, obviously realising her comment wasn’t exactly conducive to getting a good price for the room, she added, ‘’Course, in them days the attics were cold and draughty places, windowless, most of them. We’ve had this done up really nice, as you’ll see.’

One thing was for sure, the landlady hadn’t been joking when she’d said the ceiling was low. Rachel had to bend her head and when Zac reached the top stair and stepped into the room, he was bent almost double. That aside, the room was large—although a good third was unusable, the ceiling height falling to no more than two or three feet in places—and fully carpeted. What looked like a custom-made double bed stood under two roof lights, although these were shrouded with snow. The legs of the bedstead were only six inches high so that the bed virtually sat on the floor. One wall had open shelving, along with a

bar on which coat hangers hung—presumably because a traditional wardrobe wouldn’t have fitted into the space—and a low coffee table by the door held an electric kettle, cups and saucers and the traditional hotel packets of coffee, tea and sugar, along with several small packets of biscuits and tiny cartons of UHT milk.

The room could have been termed quaint—if you were a young child or extremely small adult. As it was…

The landlady looked at their faces. ‘There’s nothing else.’

Rachel had been hoping for twin beds or at least a comfy armchair where she could curl up with a blanket. Groaning inwardly, she forced a polite smile. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Well, I’ll leave you to get sorted out and come down when you’re ready, all right? There’s a table for two by the fire free—you’ll soon be nice and warm again.’ The landlady smiled a beatific smile and bustled out.

Zac placed the suitcases on the floor, took off his overcoat and sat down on the bed so he could stretch his aching neck muscles. ‘Never let it be said I don’t know how to give a girl a good time,’ he said wryly, glancing around their surroundings.

Rachel giggled. She felt slightly hysterical. She’d been right about the log fires, oak beams and so on—it was just the building in question was an old inn and she and Zac had been thrust into a situation she could never have foreseen. Kicking off her walking boots, she said, ‘Shouldn’t you phone and let them know we aren’t going to make it tonight?’

He nodded, stretching his long legs and flexing his shoulders before digging his phone out of his pocket. Rachel wondered how perfectly natural actions could be so mouth-wateringly sexy where Zac was concerned. And how she was going to get through the next few hours without forgetting every good reason why she shouldn’t sleep with him.

She pulled on her new boots and squatted down in front of the mirror on the wall to tidy her hair, reflecting it was the first time in her life she’d felt like a giant. Her knees were aching by the time she’d renewed her lipstick and straightened up. Zac was lying on the bed watching her, having finished his phone call. Ignoring the smouldering tawny eyes, she said, ‘Shall we go and get something to eat? I’m starving.’

‘Me too.’

She knew he wasn’t referring to food but pretended she didn’t. ‘Was Martin OK about us not coming?’ she asked for something to say, turning and reaching for her handbag.

‘Of course. Half the guests haven’t turned up apparently.’ As she opened the bedroom door he uncoiled his long body and stood up—as best he could. ‘I can’t believe it’s legal to ask money for a room like this,’ he muttered, after bumping his head on the doorframe as he followed her down the perilous staircase. ‘It’s only fit for leprechauns.’

She turned to face him on the first-floor landing, slightly more at ease now they’d left their intimate little bird’s nest. ‘It’s probably not legal. The landlady didn’t strike me as someone who’d bother too much about things like that, or health and safety either.’ She glanced at the landing window where the whirling snow was battering against the glass. ‘Still, lucky for us it was available, all things considered.’

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.’ He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek, his fingers stroking her throat for an infinitesimal moment. ‘It’s just not what I’d got in mind for you this weekend, that’s all.’

Not what she’d had in mind either. Especially the double bed.

‘I was going to wow you with Martin’s mansion and his umpteen acres, including a trout lake and stables and what have you, not to mention the indoor leisure complex and swarm of servants. Instead…’ his eyes narrowed sexily and his mouth curved in a self-derisive smile ‘…there’s just me and Gulliver’s room.’

Rachel’s stomach flipped over. As a seduction technique it was very good. He’d obviously had a lot of practice in that department. So why, knowing that, did her traitorous body respond so fiercely? She cleared her throat, determined to gain control. And she might have done if Zac hadn’t chosen that moment to kiss her again. Drawing her into his arms, he lifted her chin, tilting her face so he could gain full access to her mouth. The kiss wasn’t threatening; in fact, it was gentle—an unbelievably slow, erotic exploration that melted her bones. The desire that had sent her blood racing from the first moment she’d set eyes on him became longing; he kissed better than Giles or any of her other boyfriends, better than she would have dreamt possible. All her fantasies rolled into one.