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His hold kept them tethered together as they moved toward the two massive doors at the lodge’s entrance. With their fingers tangled, an unfamiliar calmness settled around her.
An inlaid wooden image of an elk in a meadow crossed the double doors of the entryway. He opened the lobby door for her, still not releasing her fingers. The rustic elegance of the reception area screamed luxury. Huge, polished log beams crossed high above on the ceiling. A bank of clear glass windows filled the entire side of the room, giving an impressive view of the forest behind. An elk-horn chandelier hung above a sitting area and fireplace.
How easy it would be to imagine herself cuddled up right there in front of a raging fire stroking hands with someone special. Except it was summer, so there wouldn’t be any fires. And she was with William, so stroking was off-limits. Also, she was covered in dried sludge. There was also that.
The rough pad of his thumb brushed her knuckles as she stepped inside.
Or not.
She did her best to ignore his touch, but her body had other ideas.
She couldn’t allow any intimacy between them—pretend or not. The honeymoon gig was a front, nothing more. He spelled trouble. A link to a past better forgotten, and he had no place in her future.
He released her hand, and a ridiculous emptiness settled through her, but she had a part to play—doting new wife and all that entailed. She fidgeted with a cup of pens on the front desk while he checked them into the honeymoon suite. A small part of her hoped they’d lost the Monroe reservation, as had happened to so many other couples. The charade would end, and they’d head back to Confluence.
“I hope you’ll have a wonderful stay with us.” The front desk hostess’s gaze ran the length of him. Her black blazer matched her dark hair, and she had a vibe about her that would bring most men to their knees.
“I’m sure we will,” he replied, apparently oblivious to being checked-out while being checked-in. “Is there a laundry service available?”
“We have a full-service housekeeping staff available to assist you with laundry. If I can help with anything else, I’ll be right here. The library’s next to the conference room. There’s a wine reception here in the lobby at six. And don’t hesitate to reach out if you require anything else.” She slid their room keys into a small envelope.
“Darling.” Lucy did her best to be the dutiful wife. She rubbed her hand up his arm for effect, channeling Marilyn Monroe even if the word came out sounding like a disjointed Lucille Ball. “I don’t think I want to go to a wine reception tonight. I’d rather drink alone.” Moths had clearly taken up residence in her brain. “Alone. But with you.”
Right.
She bit her lower lip and winked at him for good measure. Peacocking. That’s what she was doing, and not well.
Time for the big guns.
The five second flirt: smile your biggest smile for a full five seconds and watch the magic happen. Men turned to putty. Or so Katie had told her. Personally, she’d never tried it before.
Anyway.
Lips tilted up. Appear delighted. Happy.
Pleased. Amused.
Dash of tenderness.
And… The edges of William’s lips twitched. He wasn’t putty. He was laughing.
Right. Improv flirting. Not her thing. Good to know. Look at that, she’d already learned new things about herself on her first hidden camera honeymoon.
Oh hell.
He was wearing the damn glasses, so it was on camera. He swallowed hard and put the back of his hand against her cheek as if checking for fever, but he did it so cavalier, it must have appeared endearing to their desk clerk audience. “You okay, Luce?”
Nerves purring, moths flying in her brain…and he called her Luce. Now who was putty?
“Great.” The word came out high-pitched and a teensy bit screechy. She should stop now, get the nerves and the moths under control, and smuggle herself back to Confluence.
But his hand brushed the apple of her cheek, and her knees turned to apricot jelly.
“I’ll just…go peek at the brochures,” she muttered.
Something a normal bride would do even if for her it meant tucking her outrageous tail feathers and running.
The desk clerk stood with her head tilted to the side. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you, too, Mrs. Monroe.”
