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They rounded a bend and the thick forest fell away to reveal the secret jewel it protected. The lodge—his fucking lodge!—graced the center of a large empty clearing. Rustic log construction, in pristine condition, with its blue tin roof . . .
The building was huge.
The pictures had made it seem quaint, but in person, the lodge was gargantuan and sprawling, and now he could see how eighteen guest bedrooms with private bathrooms could fit, plus the master bedroom, and attached staff quarters. It was like a mansion built by pioneers. Maybe it was a little kitschy with the log Adirondack chairs out front, but that was all part of the charm.
“Fuck. You don’t do anything halfway, do you.”
He started to laugh because he couldn’t think of anything to say. It was far more beautiful and impressive than the website had been able to convey. And it was his. Not Will’s. Not his father’s. Just his.
“So are you going to take me inside or are we going to stand here and gawk at it all day?” she asked, grinning up at him. “Totally your call.”
“You really know how to spoil a grand moment.”
“I’m just impatient to see the inside.”
He put the key in the lock and even though it turned smoothly, as he opened the door he half expected the place to be a dump inside. Instead, it opened into a pleasant foyer with a check-in desk.
Impulsively, he grabbed Arabella and swung her over his shoulder, carrying her over the threshold like a sack of potatoes.
She shrieked a laugh, then pounded on his back. “What are you doing?”
“I had to carry someone over the threshold. It’s bad luck not to, isn’t it?”
He set her down, grinning at her pink face. She was rolling her eyes at him, of course. “I think that’s supposed to be your wife.”
“Oh well. You were a good stand-in. It was either you or a moose, and I haven’t seen one of those yet.”
Just beyond the foyer, they followed a wide hall into a huge great room with a grand stone fireplace along one wall. The room was separated into a dining area with a lon
g, long wooden table and bench seats, and a sitting area filled with leather chairs and couches arranged in comfortable conversation areas. The large windows running along one wall looked out to an expanse of trees below, and the lake just beyond.
Stunned, he turned back and looked at Arabella, who was turning in a slow circle as though she didn’t want to miss any details.
“I have no idea how much you paid for the place, but it was worth it.” She laughed breathlessly and came to join him at the window. Fascinated, he watched her as she took in the view, her eyes wide and shining as though this place was as magical to her as it was to him. He couldn’t imagine enjoying this so much if she hadn’t been there to share his excitement.
“This is so amazing! We’re in the middle of nowhere in your own fucking castle. It’s like something from a fairy tale. I feel like I should grow my hair out and take up residence in a tower somewhere on the island.”
“Trying to keep twelve-foot-long hair dyed blue and purple seems like it might be a bit of an undertaking.”
“Really, though, this place deserves the effort.”
She turned her face up to his again, and he realized suddenly how close they were. Her brown doe eyes softened, and her lips parted slightly, as though she was expecting a kiss. Unable to help himself, he brushed his lips featherlight across hers.
His pent-up desire for her surged out of its cage and he desperately tried to stuff it back in. He drew back a hair’s breadth, her short, shallow breaths fanning over his chin. Tension trembled through him, tightening his muscles and his balls. He itched to throw her down on the dining table, where he’d strip off her jeans and panties and have her for breakfast.
“When I said you could have me anytime, I meant it. Just as friends though.” Her bow mouth curled into a feline smile that promised him he could do anything and everything to her.
She wasn’t some innocent little noob he had to be careful with, and that was a dangerous thing. The woman was unshockable and notorious for never safewording. She still hadn’t met the master who could best her, and lord knew many of the most experienced masters in their circle had tried.
“Anytime, baby Ellis,” she said as though reading his mind. “Anytime.” She chuckled softly to herself and patted his cheek, then stepped back without dropping her gaze. From innocent to full-on brat mode with one not even fully executed kiss.
Damn, he wanted to chase her down, grab her by the back of the neck and fuck her against a wall. She tended to have that effect on men, but he was particularly susceptible. She seemed like such a self-possessed little tomboy until she channeled her inner brat—then she turned into a sassy little sexpot who needed a Dominant to keep her in line. It was hard to believe he used to find it funny when she did it other men. Not so funny now.
Platonic. That was the word he needed to cling to. She’d said it a few times, but he was starting to wonder if she understood what it meant.
He could play with her, but she wouldn’t let anyone keep her.
Well, that might be enough for everyone else but he didn’t swing that way.
