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“Do you need me to walk you up?” Shane asked. When she didn’t respond, he took matters into his own hands. Standing, he grasped her hands and pulled her up. Draping an arm around her waist, he walked with her to the stairs. Once out of earshot, he started talking again.
“I meant what I said, little girl. I don’t want you to blame yourself for this. Do you hear me?”
No response.
“Francesca,” he growled her name in warning. He didn’t need her to go into shock or retreat so deep inside of herself, she never came back out.
“I hear you,” she muttered.
“Good girl.”
They took a left at the top of the landing and headed to the far end of the hallway. Reaching the door at the end, he turned the doorknob.
“You can tell this was a corporate retreat,” he joked. “Phantom would never have decorated so well.”
Phantom had put them in one of the two executive suites, originally meant for the presidents or executives of the corporations using the resort. Shane hadn’t asked Phantom what he planned on doing with them now.
The thousand-square-foot suite hosted a four-poster king bed and large windows lining the walls, offering mesmerizing views of the Rocky Mountains on one side of the lodge and the beautiful sprawling valley on the other. Shane’s favorite part was the walk-out patio with the private two-person hot tub. If he ever came back in the winter, he was sure the fireplace surrounded by the hand-carved wood mantels would be a close second.
The attached private bath was larger than his entire apartment in California, the marble-tiled room what a woman’s wet dreams were made of.
Frankie
The bathroom was perfection. Any other time, Frankie would have been in heaven. The large windows, glass-walled shower, and double waterfall vanity were enough to be inviting, but the corner of the room had her attention. Huge bay windows with a platform holding a deep clawfoot tub were the focal point. She was left breathless from the spellbinding panoramic views of the imposing Rocky Mountains. The tub, with a wooden tray acrossit, ready for a nice cup of tea and her Kindle, just begged to be used for long luxurious soaks in bubbles and salts.
She wasn’t feeling luxurious.
She wasn’t in a reading mood… for the first time in her life.
She was feeling… she wasn’t sure what she was feeling.
She wasn’t feeling anything at all.
It was too much. All of her feelings had been pushed deep, locked up behind a brick wall, and the key tossed away, lost in an abyss of black. She didn’t like not feeling, not one bit.
“Frankie, are you okay?” Shane asked from the doorway.
“I… I can’t feel anything.” She turned to him. “I can’t feel anything, and I don’t like it.”
“How can I help?”
“I don’t know. I just want to feel… feel anything, but all I feel is numb.”
“Anything?”
“Anything!”
The last thing she expected was his lips on hers. His hands fisted her hair, tightly yanking, pulling her head back, opening her to him.
His tongue thrust inside her mouth uninvited.
She didn’t care.
She yearned for the connection. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him tightly to her, kissing him back.
He broke the kiss and nuzzled her ear, sucking her earlobe, then biting it.
“Hands up, wife.”
