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“Hope, just call me Ho—”
“No.” His fingers found her clit and massaged her sweet centre with powerful strokes. She ground her hips, sighing in frustration when he stopped again.
“Xavier, please!”
He grunted his dissatisfaction and drove his cock into her with demanding force. Picking up the pace again, her ass slapped against the glass as she shouted her approval. She moved her lips to his shoulder and bit him as he grunted his final release, tipping her over the edge. She closed her eyes and screamed with a pleasure she never wanted to end. Her hands around his neck and his hands cupping her butt were the only things connecting her to this world. She shivered, half with delight, half from the cold of the window still glued to her back.
He stumbled backwards, tumbling them both onto the bed, burying his face against her shoulder. She stroked his spine with lazy fingertips until he drew her closer into his arms and arranged them into an intimate spoon. As their breath returned to normal, she heard him whisper, “Sorry about that. Worth a shot.”
She was still out of breath. “I can’t believe you tried to sex my name out of me. That was a dastardly move, mister.”
“Dastardly? I like the sound of that.” He twirled an imaginary moustache.
He could get away with anything with that smile, and he knew it. Her lover shrugged.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter. You’ll always be my Hope.” He lifted her chin with his finger to kiss her tenderly.
In her head, she called him a few choice names of her own. Forcing something from her in a moment of passion was not something she could condone. Yet, of all her secrets, this one was probably the least of her worries.
My Hope, he’d said.
Her heart, already half under his spell, wavered in the balance then dropped, piercing itself on his sweet words.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
God, how dumb was she? Was she seriously falling for this man? Despite his many flaws, it seemed that’s exactly what she was doing. Had she ever done anything this idiotic? She couldn’t remember. Which meant, probably not. Which meant it was probably about time.
Xavier started to say something, but the sound of a muffled ringing cell phone stopped him. She wrinkled her nose as he plucked his jacket from the floor, searching for the vibrating menace that had disturbed their cocooned existence. He stabbed at the smart phone to accept the call.
“Xavier speaking…Who?…No, I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong…No, there’s no Emily here, mate.”
Hope froze.
Every fragment of warmth fled her body in an instant.
Xavier placed a frustrated hand on his naked hip. “Look, I already told you…No, why would you think that? I honestly don’t know an Emily…What…What did you say? What do you mean how many million…Kidnapped? Are you on crack?”
He turned to Hope and gave her athis person is crazy look. It disappeared the moment he saw the panic written on her face. She didn’t have the energy left to try and mask it. They’d found her. How in the hell had they found her?
The hand that held the phone dropped. Xavier’s face was a cloak of confusion. “Emily?” he asked.
Hope scrambled from the bed and took the phone from him.
“Who is this?” She ignored the urgent ramblings on the other end of the line. “No, no. I left a note…On the receipt in the kitchen by the…Oh, God…Well it should have been there! Listen…”
She quickly rambled some more, apologised again, and rang off before the disembodied voice could reply. She stared at the phone for the longest time, not game enough to look up. Without raising her head, she said, “I’m sorry to drag you into this. I know we said no complications…”
“How did they know my number,Emily?”
“Ah, it seems a private detective traced you, through me.”
Xavier waved his arms about. “Private detectives? That sounds pretty fucking serious. What the fuck is going on?”
She still couldn’t look him in the eye. “As far as I can tell someone must have spotted me getting into your rental car back in New York, and they traced you through that. I don’t know, hotel security footage, whatever.”
“I’m less concerned with the how and more concerned with the why. I always thought it amazingly convenient you could drop everything to be with me. Now, I’m seeing that it wasn’t bloody convenient at all. The bloke on the phone thought you’d been kidnapped, for Christ’s sake. Who the fuck was I speaking to? Your husband?”
“No! I already told you I’m not married.”
