Admit One (34 page)

If he were a heartless, psychotic asshole, that is.

Will shook his head. His instincts told him that Mason was legitimately in love with his sister, and he’d certainly shown tendencies here lately toward moving heaven and earth to keep her from being hurt.

But his instincts had been wrong on occasion.

“Just… consider it,” Alan said, when he must have sensed that Will was hesitating to buy his theory.

“If even a sliver of evidence comes to light which suggests Armitage has done anything to misuse Allie, you can hold him down while I beat him.”

A smile ghosted. “Fair enough,” Alan agreed. He lifted his chin in the direction of the dock. “Should we go see if they’ve turned up anything?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He fell into step beside the other man, the wheels of his brain still turning.

ALLIE
languidly scooped up the last dollop of whipped cream from the plate, and plopped it into Mason’s mouth.

“I think I may be slipping into a food coma,” he mumbled after he’d sucked her finger, his head falling back against the pillow. “Or perhaps it’s a sex coma.  Either way, I can’t move.”

“Mmm,” Allie agreed, because she was too drowsy to form actual words. They’d ordered chocolate cake drenched in chocolate sauce and topped with extra whipped cream and – as Allie had hoped – consumed it in a… creative fashion.

Allie slid her foot up Mason’s leg. His hand stroked her thigh in response and she opened one eye in speculation, but judging by the way he looked more or less like cooked spaghetti, she figured he was just bluffing.

So she snuggled in and enjoyed the feel of his palm against her skin.

The rain had stopped, but the air blowing into the room from the open French doors was comfortably cool. Mason was deliciously warm.

And Allie – well, she didn’t have a word to describe just how she felt at this particular moment. If she’d been moved on the boat, she was…

Well. She guessed she did have a word after all.

She was in love. She had been at least halfway there last summer. Infatuated from the first moment she’d seen him – as any woman in her right mind would be – she’d fallen a little bit more every time they’d spoken. Aside from being gorgeous and witty and interesting to talk to, he’d seemed so
genuine.
And it was that – the thought that his sincerity had all been an act – that had most devastated her when she’d discovered that he wasn’t quite who he’d presented himself to be.

Except that he
was
who he’d presented himself to be – to her at least. It was the other persona, the professional façade that he’d erected, that was an act.

The fact that he’d let her see behind the façade, allowed her to know the real Mason, made her feel both grateful and at the same time… protective of him. He’d made a gift of his innermost self, and she intended to cherish it.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he murmured.

She smoothed her hand over his chest. “I was just thinking that when someone with walls invites you inside them, it’s… well, it’ll probably sound silly spoken aloud, but I feel like it’s a gift.”

She could tell by the way his head shifted on the pillow that he was looking down at her. “I don’t think that sounds silly at all. I think you’re right, and that was a lovely way to express it.”

Allie smiled. “Since you’ve given me a gift, I should say thank you.”

“I believe you’ve done that several times already. Although actually, I should be thanking… well, bugger me.”

“If that means what I think it means, I don’t think I have the right equipment.”

His chest shook beneath her cheek as he chuckled. “No, you don’t, but that wasn’t my meaning.” He kissed her head, and then started to slide out from beneath her.

“Something wrong?”

“Only that in my haste to have my way with you, I forgot something.”

He climbed from the bed, and though the light was quite dim in the room, Allie was just able to make out the very memorable sight of his taut, round, naked behind as he bent over to dig through the suitcases they hadn’t got around to unpacking.

After rooting for a few moments, he gave a triumphant “aha” and then started back across the room, with what appeared to be a gift bag of some sort in his hand.

“Close your eyes for a moment,” he warned as he reached over to switch on the lamp.

Allie did, squinting as the brighter light hit her eyelids. The bed depressed beside her, and she opened them again.

Mason had a curious look on his face.

“Why do you look like you’re afraid I’m going to bite you?”

“You did bite me,” he reminded her, pointing to a faint mark on his left pec.

A flush suffused Allie’s cheeks. “You were tormenting me with chocolate sauce at the time, so you deserved it.”

“If that’s the case, I shall endeavor to keep chocolate sauce on my person at all times.” He glanced down at the bag, then back at Allie. “I considered changing the bag and omitting the detail of its origin, but I don’t want any more half-truths or fabrications between us. If you don’t want it because of where I purchased it, I’ll understand.”

Allie’s brows drew together. “Why would I care about where something came from? I’m not a – oh,” she said, when she saw the silver label on the bag.
Southern Comfort.
Victoria.

Or as Allie thought of her, the Wicked Witch of the South.

Her lip wanted to curl in distaste, but Mason was watching her carefully. And if he’d wanted whatever was in the bag badly enough to buy it from her ex-sister-in-law, then Allie wasn’t about to let a little thing like her absolute hatred of the bitch detract from the occasion.

She held out her hand.

“You’re certain?”

“I’m not that petty, Mason.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” He handed the bag over.

Allie glanced up at him, and then untied the black ribbon. Sitting it aside, she dug through the tissue paper until her fingers closed around a small box.

She pulled it out, eyed it curiously. When she lifted the lid, the gasp which came from her wasn’t in any way affected.

“Oh.” Eyes wide, she touched the delicate teacup with a reverent finger. “Oh, it’s
beautiful.
Look at the craftsmanship!”

When she glanced up, it was to find Mason grinning at her in delight. “You like it?”

“No, I’m totally pretending. Of course I like it. Actually,
like
isn’t a strong enough word. I adore it.”

“There’s a bit of a story behind it,” Mason said, and then proceeded to tell her the history.

“It’s… perfect, Mason. Perfect for me.” And it warmed her to realize that he had recognized that it would be. She leaned over, slid her hand around the back of his neck to draw him down for a kiss. “Thank you.”

Mason took the kiss deeper. When he lifted his head, Allie was once again feeling flushed, and breathless. He took the box from her, drawing the necklace out.

“May I?”

“Of course,” she said.

“I just want to see it against your skin,” he murmured. “Because I could picture it there so clearly.”

Allie lifted her hair – a tangled mess, thanks to getting rained on and subsequent amorous undertakings – so that Mason could work the clasp. The teacup nestled between her breasts.

“Perfect,” Mason murmured, touching the necklace with a fingertip, which he then trailed over, bringing its fellows up to cup her breast. Already sensitized by their earlier lovemaking, her breasts swelled, the nipples puckering into tight buds.

He leaned down, sucking first one and then the other into his mouth, and Allie felt the tug of it somewhere deep in her womb.

He lifted his head, touched his tongue to his top lip. “You still taste like chocolate. And you smell…” He paused, his head coming up further, like a wolf scenting the air.

But his brows drew together.

“Something smells like it’s burning.” He cast her a rueful glance. “Hot as you are darling, I somehow don’t think it’s you.”

“No.” Allie could smell it now, too. Like wood smoke, only more pungent. She glanced toward the open door. “Mason.”

“I see it.” Climbing from the bed, Mason grabbed the robe he’d donned earlier when room service brought their dessert. He strode toward the balcony, where smoke had begun to drift past.

“What is it?” she said, snatching her own robe.

Mason placed his hands on the iron railing, leaned slightly over. “Shite,” he said, alarm in his voice. “It’s a fire.”

“What?” Allie tied the belt to her robe as she rushed over. “Where?”

“A building toward the end of the street from the looks of it.”

Allie looked over and down, where flames were doing their macabre but eerily beautiful dance behind the glass of the first story windows.

“Oh my God, I should call nine-one-one.”

“Sounds like someone already has,” he said when the sound of sirens split the air.

Allie swallowed. Her throat felt thick, whether from the smoky air or from concern, she couldn’t say. She placed a hand on Mason’s arm.

“I hope it wasn’t another hotel.”  Being the heart of the tourist district, River Street was full of them. The thought of being trapped inside a hotel room while fire raged around you had incipient panic crawling up her spine.

And these buildings, old as they were, probably had plenty of material for a fire to work with. She knew they’d all been updated, was sure that they had sprinkler systems and fire doors and other modern safety precautions in place, but that didn’t negate the concern. And it didn’t stop her from worrying over the fact that most of the buildings were attached. From what she could see, the fire was only two buildings down from them.

If it spread…

“Get your things together,” Mason told her, his tone making it clear that it wasn’t a suggestion. When he turned, she saw the same concern that she felt in his eyes.

“Do you think we should leave?”

“I think that we should be prepared to do so. I’m sure the fire department will get it under control before it gets out of hand, but…” he looked down at the flames again, which seemed to have tripled in size in the past couple minutes. “I don’t want to take any chances.” He lifted her bodily, placing her back in the room, away from the smoke. Then he shut the doors behind them.

Biting her lip, Allie followed his lead, digging dry clothes out of her suitcase, hastily dressing herself. She winced at her still damp dress, and then thought of the dry cleaning bag that was sure to be in the closet.

Hurrying over, she threw open the doors. Spotting the plastic bag, she grabbed it from the shelf, shoved her dress inside it. She gathered up Mason’s pants and shirt and did the same.

They hadn’t even put any of their toiletries in the bathroom, as they’d yet to get around to showering, so she didn’t have to worry about that.

“Do we stay here and… wait, or…”

Mason zipped his duffle bag. “I’d rather go outside, see if we can get an idea of what’s going on. I have the room key, so if things look under control, we can always return. If not, we
won’t have to risk coming back inside. We can simply give Captain Joe a call and let him know we’ll be returning to the boat earlier than expected.”

Allie touched a hand to her hair, wishing she’d brought a hat. But under the circumstances, her appearance was the least of her worries.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Mason looked her over, then unexpectedly grinned.

“What? It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Your hair is adorable.
You’re
adorable. And not to make light of the situation, but I was just thinking that I’d hoped to give you a memorable night. This wasn’t quite my intention.”

Allie found herself smiling back. “It has been memorable. Unforgettable.” She leaned up and kissed him. “Even without the pyrotechnics.”

He kissed her back, wrapping an arm around her waist to draw her closer. “Let’s go,” he finally said. “Hopefully this situation isn’t quite as bad as it appears, and we can pick up again when we return.” 

When they stepped into the hall, an elderly gentleman clad only in his boxer shorts and a pair of black knee socks was standing just outside his open door, looking around in confusion.

“What’s going on?” he said. “My wife said she heard sirens.”

“There’s a fire down the street,” Mason explained.

The man looked at the bags Mason carried over his shoulder. “You’re leaving?” he said. “Are they evacuating the hotel?”

“No.” Mason winced. “Not at all. I’m sure the alarms would be going off here if that were the case. We’re just being cautious, perhaps overly so.”

The old man nodded. “Thanks.” Then he turned back into his room, calling out to his wife to get her butt out of bed.

“I hope we didn’t start a panic,” Mason murmured as they continued toward the large center stairwell. But when they emerged from their hallway, it was to see that other people had come out of their rooms as well, some of them only partially dressed, and some clearly still dressed from their night on the town. They were gathered in clumps, discussing what was happening or darting toward the riverfront windows to see if they could get a look, and the sound of even more fire engines headed their way added to the cacophony.