Lessons in Seduction (8 page)

“Rooms.” Adam said with an emphasis on the
s.
“We'll need two.” He said it before Danni had to. Though for a second the thought of sharing a room—a bed—with her, had stirred something fierce within him, something that had catapulted his mind back to when he was kissing her.

The kiss and the associated sensations had imprinted on him and he didn't think it was going to be possible to erase them. They would, he was certain, haunt him for a long time to come.

“Two?” Blake looked between them, frowning.

“That's not a problem, is it?”

“No,” he said drawing the word out. “But seeing as I was expecting the chef and his wife, I only have one room ready. But it won't take me long to sort out. I'll do it while you're drinking your mulled wine. You will
have a glass of mulled wine, won't you?” He trained a look of earnest concern on them. “I have some ready.”

“We'd love to, thanks,” Danni said with a smile that wiped the concern from Blake's face.

He showed them into a cavernous living room with high wooden-beamed ceilings and a roaring fire in a stone hearth. “You stay by the fire. I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

Danni looked from Blake's departing back to Adam. “I haven't apologized for overriding your request to go back to the palace. For us ending up here.”

And if she hadn't done that he wouldn't have kissed her and they wouldn't be in this mess. “It's okay. I appreciate your reasoning.” He knew she'd done it for him because she'd thought he needed to take some time for himself.

“We don't have to stay here if it doesn't suit you.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked around the room. “This is nice but it isn't going to be what you're used to, especially with no staff. I can get us to the Marconi chalet if you'd like.”

“Okay, so now I am annoyed. What do you take me for, Danni?
This isn't what I'm used to.
You know I served in the military. I had plenty of accommodations during my time that were far less salubrious than this. Almost all of it, in fact.”

“I know but…”

“I thought you were one of the few people who saw beyond the title.”

“I do.”

“Yet you think I'd rather send us both back out into that weather, not to mention insulting Blake, for the
sake of what? A higher thread count? Someone to open doors?”

“A better meal,” she suggested.

“I don't care about the food.”

She looked away. “You're right. I know you're not like that.” Had his kiss driven such a wedge between them that she couldn't even meet his gaze?

Another thought occurred to him. “You don't have a problem with Blake?”

“Me? No.” She looked as horrified as he'd been when she'd suggested he might not consider this place up to his usual standard. But then a sudden merriment flashed in her eyes as she added, “He's gorgeous, mate.”

Relief flooded through him. That was the Danni he remembered.

Her grin faded too soon. “We should tell him who you are.”

Which in turn dimmed his own enjoyment in her response. “Why?”

“Because he has a right to know.”

“Can you imagine what that will do to him? He's already flustered.”

“But—”

“He doesn't need to know.”

“Is that an order?” She raised one eyebrow.

Why did she always have to challenge and question him? He'd never figured it out. Never figured
her
out. “I don't give you orders, Danni. I never have. And not just because you wouldn't have followed them.”

She did a funny little head tilt that he took to be grudging acknowledgment of the truth. “But sometimes your requests do sound a lot like orders.”

He shrugged. That was his acknowledgment that
maybe there was also an element of truth in what she said. He'd learned to be careful about how he expressed his thoughts and wishes because they could be taken too seriously. But it also meant that if he wanted something done, a subtle remark was usually enough to see it accomplished.

Blake came back in carrying two cinnamon-scented glasses of mulled wine. “Here, get these down you and I'll sort out your other room. That is, if you're sure you don't want to share.”

“We're sure,” they said in unison.

They watched him go and Danni laughed. “I'd bet my life's savings that no one's ever handed you a drink and told you to ‘get it down you' before.”

“Your savings are safe.” Adam raised his glass to her and looked about the room. His gaze took in an antique chess set positioned between two armchairs. The pieces set up for a game. “Do you want to play?” Anything to keep her distracted, to pull things back to where they ought to be between them.

She looked from the board to him. “I've barely played since the last time with you.”

“Me neither.”

“Are you lying?” she asked, suspicion narrowing her eyes.

“I might have played a time or two. What about you?”

Her lips twitched. “A time or two.”

They could move on. He knew it. She'd never been one to hold grudges, preferring to live in the present.

“I'm not sure that now's the best time to get back into it though, because in all our matches that summer and the few afterward, I never won a game off you.”

“I wouldn't remember.”

“You remember. You're too competitive not to. But that last time I had you in check twice.”

“Once. And it only lasted until my next move when I put you in checkmate.”

“It was twice and it took way more moves than one to make it checkmate. I almost had you.”

“Prove it.” He nodded at the set.

She hesitated.

“There's nothing else for us to do. Unless you want to talk about what happened before?”

“I'm white,” she said with a false cheerfulness.

Adam waited for her to sit and watched as she touched and aligned each of the intricately carved pieces. “It's a beautiful set,” she said, picking up a finely carved knight and turning it slowly.

“I'm guessing it's an original Staunton.” He lifted his king and looked at its base. “Ebony and boxwood made around the 1860s. And it's your move.”

“I knew it would come to that,” she muttered. She opened with her king's pawn. “The trouble is you taught me. You know how I play because it's how you taught me to play. It seems like an unfair advantage.”

“Which means you know how I think and play, too. But you quickly developed your own strategies. Unconventional but occasionally effective.”

She shook her head. “The difference now is I'm not going to let your gamesmanship put me off.”

“Gamesmanship?” He feigned outrage. That had been one of the things he'd enjoyed about playing with her. The way she tried to match wits with him verbally as well as strategically.

“Gee, Danni. Are you sure you want to do that?” She
mimicked him. “‘Are you sure you've thought through all the avenues? The obvious move isn't always the best one.' You turned me round in circles, like that labyrinth at the palace.”

“I never gave you bad advice. Besides, you were more than capable of thinking your way out of it. And you always liked the labyrinth.”

“You were five years older than me.”

“You wanted to play.” He mirrored her move.

“I always thought I could beat you—one day. And then we stopped playing, just as I was getting better and coming close to matching you.”

“I was letting you think you were coming close because, like you said, I had five years on you. It was only fair to give you a chance.”

“Says the man who taught me the French proverb,
you cannot play chess if you are kindhearted.
You weren't
letting
me come close to winning. I was doing that on my own. In fact that's probably why you stopped playing with me.”

“And of course it had nothing to do with me going back to boarding school.”

“That might have been a factor.” She grinned.

“And if we're talking sayings, I lost count of how many times you reminded me that after the game, the king and the pawn go back in the same box.”

“Still true.”

And he was just as grateful now as he had been then that she thought that way. He paused with his hand on a knight. “Those chess games helped me get through that vacation.”

“Only because winning makes you happy. Don't expect it tonight.” Challenge and anticipation lit her eyes.

And the same sensations stirred within him. “Okay, Kasparov. Show me what you've got. But I'm thinking you're still going to make me a happy man.” He hadn't intended the double entendre. But he could see by the way her eyes widened before she looked quickly back at the board that she'd read more into those words than he'd intended. And he too had thought more than he ought as soon as they were out of his mouth. In that fleeting instant he'd thought of ways Danni might make him happy and of ways he might please her, and of how she would look in the throes of pleasure. Forbidden thoughts. He had to stop them.

And he had to get his head into the game or she'd beat him. She made her next move and they played in the silence of concentration for fifteen minutes until Blake came back.

“Glad to see that being used.” He nodded at the chess set. “It belonged to my grandfather. Only Jake ever played and even then not much.” He stood a short distance away, his hands behind his back, and surveyed the board. “Who's winning?”

Danni met Adam's gaze then looked at Blake. “Hard to say at this point.” Adam agreed with her assessment. Already she'd surprised him a couple of times. He was going to have to work for a win.

“Do you want to finish the game before I show you up to your rooms?”

Adam looked at Danni whose attention was back on the board, her hand hovering over her bishop. “This game may not finish anytime soon.”

Blake shook his head. “That's the trouble with
chess,” he grumbled. “Takes too long and you can't even tell who's winning.”

Danni made her move and then with one last look at the board, stood and smiled at their host. Blake gestured to the door. “It took me a while to find everything. But I think I've done it right. Ticked off everything on the list anyway.” The crinkling of paper sounded as he patted his pocket. “I'll show you up now and then fix your dinner. Like I said, it won't be fancy, but it'll be tasty and there'll be plenty of it. I'm more used to cooking for a shearing gang than couples on vacation. I hope you're hungry.”

“I could eat a horse?” Adam said tentatively.

Clearly the right answer. Blake clapped him forcefully on the back. “That's what I like to hear,” he said as he led the way up the stairs. “I've put Danni in here.” He opened a door to a bedroom with a canopied four-poster bed in the center draped in a white linen coverlet, with a heart-shaped chocolate wrapped in red foil on the pillow. “It's the best room,” he said proudly.

“Bathroom's over there,” Blake pointed to a far door and then walked to another. “This is the adjoining door. It can be locked from either side. Or not.” The man clearly thought there was something going on between them. Or that there would be soon. An idea that teased at Adam's senses no matter how he tried to repress it. But repress it he had to. There could be nothing between the two of them for a whole host of reasons. Her age and the fact that he was looking for a wife being the first two that came to mind. A wife to stand at his side now and when the time came for him to fill his father's shoes as monarch of the country. A role that wouldn't suit the adventure-loving Danni and one
which he couldn't imagine her suiting in return. He knew what he needed in a partner—he had his list.

So, anything with Danni, as tempting and insistent as the idea suddenly was, would be wrong because it wouldn't be fair to her. And would ruin a relationship that he was only now coming to properly value.

She was out-of-bounds.

The room revealed by the opened door was similar though smaller than the one they stood in. The bed was a standard bed, the covers were somewhat rumpled in a testament to Blake's bed-making skills. Though here too in the center of the pillow sat a foil-wrapped chocolate.

Danni looked at him, her narrowed gaze revealing her discomfort. He was assuming the discomfort was over the disparity in their rooms rather than the proximity. He only wished he could say the same for himself. He'd never have thought having Danni St. Claire so close could be disconcerting, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd be lying in bed tonight and thinking about her on the other side of that door.

That kiss had a lot to answer for.
He
had lot to answer for. And she hadn't let him apologize for it.

Then again, maybe he'd kissed her just to stop her arguing.

No. Not true.

He'd kissed her because he'd suddenly wanted to. Needed to so badly that he hadn't been able not to. And there was a part of him, a traitorous rebellious part, that couldn't regret it, that triumphed in it.

Worst of all was the fact that she'd responded. Unequivocally. An encouragement he would have been
much better off without. That instantaneous connection and heat had been like no other kiss.

Usually he made quick irrevocable decisions and seldom revisited them, seldom regretted them. This confusion, the indecision and second-guessing that assailed him was uncharted and disturbing territory.

Danni opened her mouth to protest over the room arrangement. He silenced her with a hand on her shoulder. “These look terrific,” he said. “Thank you.”

“I knew you'd appreciate them. Sabrina knows how to do things nicely.” Their host kept talking, oblivious to the sensation rioting through Adam, and all because of the feel of her slender shoulder. “And those chocolates,” Blake pointed to the pillow, “are delicious. Just had one when I was making your bed. I couldn't help it.” He clapped his hands together. “So, dinner now?”