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She takes a seat on a small, upholstered chair. “This hotel is incredible. It must date back to the 1800s.”
I sit in a wooden rocking chair. The movement of the chair makes me instantly regret the decision. Finishing my coffee, I put the cup down on the table. “I like the location. But it’s a bit cluttered with antiques.”
She sips her hot cocoa. “I’ve never been to Brighton. It reminds me a little of some of the beach towns from home.”
A silence falls between us. I need to disclose who I am, tell her it’s my mother getting married, and explain that she doesn’t have enough experience to replace Kate on the tours. But I’m strangely hesitant to end our connection.
Imogen stands up. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”
“It’s through the bedroom.”
I close my eyes for a moment and rock backward. Coming here and dealing with my mother and Graham about the wedding has been torture. But this fleeting evening with a glam schoolteacher from New York has been surprisingly pleasurable. The people I meet on adventures are interested in trying something outside their comfort zone but don’t necessarily want to a deep rapport. I’m expected to play a role, guiding them to take chances or try something new. I feel like a bartender much of the time, listening to sad stories so they can purge their souls.
Imogen comes back, and I stand up.
She asks, “Hey. Is everything okay? You seem far away.”
I hold her gaze. “We need to talk about Bespoke Adventures.”
She moves closer to me and smiles. “Let’s not talk about work tonight. It’s getting late. I should walk back to the Starlings Guest House.”
I lightly touch her elbow. “There are things I haven’t told you about myself.”
She grips my arm. “Yes, well, I’ve revealed too much about myself tonight. So that kind of balances it out.”
Her eyes seem to spark, reminding me of a rare blue fire. “I enjoyed the evening, Immy.”
She touches my chest, moving her hand slowly over my heart. Adrenaline spikes through me. I should stop her but instead I hold myself still and let her explore the attraction between us. Her hand is gentle and caressing.
Glancing down into her upturned face, I resist the powerful pull she has over me. Instead, I breathe in her tempting rose scent and feel my body tighten in response. I need to step away to break the desire building between us.
She bites her lower lip and whispers, “Lorimer, I want you to kiss me.”
I should say no and step back, but I touch her cheeks with my fingertips and draw her forward. She closes her eyes, and I kiss her mouth softly before deepening the kiss. She tastes so good.
Her arms wind around my neck, and I can feel her rounded breasts pressing against my chest. A flash of heat spreads out from my groin. As I slide my tongue over hers, I feel her tremble and move my hand to her lower back, anchoring her against me. Her soft murmurs cause my heartbeat to speed up. I want more of her.
I pull her jumper up, exposing a lacy bra. Breaking away from her, I tug the soft material over her head and toss it on the chair. Pulling her back into my arms, I feel her warm, silky skin and kiss her neck. “You feel so good.”
I touch her soft hair, molding my hand to the back of her head. I find her beautiful mouth again and plunge my tongue inside. The unevenness of her breath spurs me on. But as passion builds, I pull back and entangle her arms from my neck.
Touching her wrist, I read the cursive words tattooed on her lower arm,Remember to let go.
Something flickered in her eyes. “I need to remind myself sometimes not to be too careful and not to hold too tightly to things.”
I touch her collarbone and tell her, “We are opposite in that way. I need to remind myself not to take too many chances.”
She presses a kiss into my chest. “I want to flirt with danger tonight.”
I pick up her sweater, and gently maneuver her into the sitting room, intending to take her into the bedroom. But the bright light causes me to slow down and think about the consequences. She needs to know who I am before this goes too far.
She hesitates. “What’s wrong?”
I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to regret this.”
Imogen touches my jaw. “I’ve never had a one-nighter. Maybe I’ll regret it. But it feels so good not to worry about anything and enjoy whatever this is between us. I don’t want to overthink it.”
I hold myself still. I want to lose myself in her beautiful body. But I can’t. It’s not right. I toss her jumper to her. “You should put your clothing on.”
