Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [57]
Mrs. D. cast a merry little smile. “It’s a sentimental place for us,” she explained. “Well worth the time it takes Hawthorne to keep it groomed and tidy.”
Riley and Sloane immediately exchanged glances. Mr. Hawthorne had been the gardener for many years, and finding out he knew about the garden meant that, finally, they had a suspect.
“Does anyone else know of the garden?” Riley asked.
Mrs. D. tilted her head first one way, then the other, thinking. “No, I don’t believe so. It’s not so much that it’s a secret we try to keep, you understand, but we’ve simply never mentioned it to anyone. On the occasions we stroll to the garden, well . . . knowing it’s ours alone makes the visit somehow a little sweeter.”
Riley could certainly understand that, given her own recent experiences in the garden.
“Of course, now you two know about it,” Mrs. D. said, but then she smiled. “Not that I mind. I’ve always been fond of you both, and who knows, perhaps our little love nest will hold the same magical romance for the two of you, as well.”
Riley practically leapt to the end of the couch, away from Sloane.They’d let no one in on their affair and hadn’t planned to, having decided there was no need to get their relatives involved in something that was just between them.“Why on earth would you think that?” Riley asked, trying not to sound flustered.
Mrs. D. looked uncharacteristically dour, again switching her gaze back and forth between them. “I guess you two think the rest of us around here are blind, but it’s been clear you have the hots for each other since the moment you walked in that door, Riley Wainscott.” Mrs. Dorchester pointed toward the foyer, and Riley shrunk back into the sofa.
So they knew. About her and Sloane.
Yet for some reason Riley couldn’t quite explain, even to herself, she still wasn’t ready to admit the truth, even if the cat was out of the bag. Because Sloane’s stay here was so very temporary. As was their relationship. She had to remember that, and to protect her heart.
Before Sloane could do anything stupid like confess, she spoke up. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mrs. Dorchester. Sloane and I have a purely professional relationship and intend to keep it that way.”
Sloane propped his elbow on the arm of the sofa, perched his chin comfortably on top, and flashed an utterly dry look in her direction. “That’s too bad.”
She swallowed nervously. “Why’s that?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re missing.”
At the end of the last scene, Laura stopped to freshen her coffee, then returned to the computer. Outside, the first snow to fall since her arrival began to waft down in soft, pretty flakes. She thought of Braden’s silly pet name for her—snowflake—and smiled.
That’s when she heard his footsteps on the stairs. He’d slept in this morning, but she’d refused to let herself stay in bed with him. She’d been burning to write—and thinking that snuggling too much with her lover could only lead to her doom, just like Riley with Sloane.
“Hey, snowflake, what’s shakin’?”
She turned to find his hair mussed, and the lower half of his body clad in flannel pants dotted with miniature beer mugs, which she thought cute. His bare chest, however, far surpassed cute.
“My book’s shakin’,” she said, getting to her feet. “Sleepyhead.”
He cast a lazy grin. “You wore me out last night.”
She met him halfway across the room in a comfy embrace. “Try having four orgasms in one night, buddy,” she teased.
He tilted his head, peering wistfully off into the distance. “I did that once. Many years ago, back when I was a young stud.”
“What are you now?”
“A more mature stud,” he said with one arched brow, “who’s only good for a mere two or three.” He concluded with a wink.
Her breasts practically swelled as she remembered their shower, and their sex in the window. “Mmm, last night’s two were heavenly.” She lifted a small kiss to his sumptuous mouth.
“I was thinking,” he said slowly, “that we could make today fun, too—in a different way.”
“Oh?”
“Why don’t you let me steal you away from your work for an afternoon