Calder Promise (Calder Saga 8)

“I doubt if the Italians thought it would be used for a late-night dip,” Sebastian chided dryly.

“They should have.” Her reply was accompanied by an exaggerated shudder.

The temptation was there to use his body to thoroughly warm her. With more than a degree of regret, Sebastian lifted the folded blanket robe off the wall with one hand while continuing to hold Laura close.

“It’s a bloody shame to do this.” He shook out the folds and draped the blanket around her shoulders, drawing it together in front.

Laura caught hold of the edges and pulled them snugly across her front, overlapping the edges. “And here I thought you’d put your jacket around me. This is much better.” Even as she shivered, there was laughter dancing in her eyes when she glanced up at him. “I didn’t expect you to be so practical.”

“Bianca is the practical one. Truthfully, I have never understood why she keeps a blanket robe in the boot. And I am certainly not going to question it now. Come on.” He wrapped a steering arm around her and guided her toward the Porsche. “Let’s get you in the car.”

Halfway there Laura halted. “My clothes.” Careful not to loosen the blanket, she stuck out one finger and pointed in their direction.

When Sebastian went to fetch them, Laura continued to the car and waited by the passenger side.

“I feel like one of my uncle’s relatives,” she said as he opened the door for her.

“Beg pardon?”

Seeing his puzzled look, Laura explained, “Logan is part Sioux Indian and the local sheriff.”

An eyebrow arched in amusement. “You clearly have a colorful family tree.”

“And you haven’t even heard the stories about my sod-busting great-grandmother or the one about my father being born out of wedlock,” Laura teased, holding tight to the blanket as she climbed into the car.

“As I said, colorful.” A small smile crooked his mouth. After she was comfortably ensconced in the seat, he deposited the bundle of clothes on her lap. “Shall I put the top up?”

Laura shook her head. “Don’t bother. The hotel isn’t very far from here.”

Chapter Three

To Laura’s amusement, the doorman’s expression didn’t so much as flicker when she stuck a high-heeled foot out of the Porsche and stood up, swaddled Indian-style in a blanket while clutching her evening clothes. She waited by the hotel steps for Sebastian to join her, head up and the slightest hint of a naughty smile touching the corners of her lips.

She tipped her head to him. “You are coming in with me, aren’t you? I may need your assistance with little things like doors and elevator buttons.”

“Of course.” His smile was quick and warm, his eyes echoing the sparkle of amusement in her own. Turning to the doorman, he handed him the car keys and some folded bills, then swung back to Laura and escorted her up the hotel steps.

“I hope you were generous with your tip.”

“I was,” Sebastian assured her.

“Good. The man was the absolute epitome of tact. For all the notice he took of my clothes, I could have been wearing a mink. I considered giving him a quick flash, but he didn’t seem to be interested.”

Sebastian reached ahead of her and opened the door. “Perhaps he’s gay.”

“A gay Italian.” Laura released a soft, incredulous laugh. “That sounds like an oxymoron.”

“It does, rather.” He guided her to the elevators and pushed the button to summon one. Almost instantly a set of doors glided open with a faint whoosh.

Laura entered the elevator car ahead of him and began the awkward task of searching through the folded clothes for her purse while still maintaining an adequate grip on the blanket. Giving up, she turned to Sebastian. “Find my evening bag, will you? It has my room key in it. And I certainly don’t want to wake up Tara.”

“Do you share a room with your aunt?” In quick order, Sebastian located her beaded bag and extracted the computerized room key from it.

“No. We have separate suites. And Tara isn’t actually my aunt,” Laura declared on a breezily offhand note. “I just call her that to avoid lengthy explanations. Technically we aren’t related at all.”

“How’s that?” He eyed her curiously.

“Tara was my father’s first wife. Several years