“Ah, that wallpaper design is from William Morris,” Zack said with satisfaction, studying the Biltmore Estate’s South Tower Room, renovated to duplicate the early 1900s style when the house had been built. They’d arrived in Asheville a day early to rest and plan for the trade show. Visiting Biltmore had seemed the ideal opportunity for both. “Excellent use of historic effect of a previous era.”
Amy had been to the magnificently restored estate several times over the years, as a student and as a tour guide for Evan’s guests. She’d never been through the mansion’s elegant chambers with a man who so fully understood her awe and admiration for this historical legacy.
It was almost enough to distract her from the luxurious hotel room waiting for them down the road. Almost.
“They had twenty-one rooms for servants alone,” she whispered so the other tourists wouldn’t hear, “an entire floor for just the help. For what? Two people?”
Zack patted her back sympathetically. “My poor Amy, who would house the entire town here, if she could. Would it make you feel better to think of how many people they employed — the masons and plumbers and chimney sweeps….”
“Sixty-five fireplaces,” she said, reading the brochure. “Can you imagine cleaning sixty-five fireplaces? Two hundred fifty rooms?”
“And don’t forget the swimming pool, and who waxed the bowling alley?” he reminded her with a twinkle in his eye. “Can you not picture yourself as a guest enjoying all this magnificence rather than as the maid who cleans it?”
“Wallowing in the lap of luxury while others work their hands to the bone? Nope, not me. Let’s take another look at that hand-painted chintz. Is there any way we can duplicate that?” She took off at a brisk walk toward one of the other bedrooms, trying to convince herself that this conversation proved the distance between them. Zack was used to being the wealthy guest. She was more accustomed to being the maid. If she could just keep these differences in her mind, she wouldn’t endanger her vulnerable heart.
But she couldn’t, not when they laughed and worked together as equals. They were on the same wavelength, and that meant they were both thinking of that bed waiting for them, and a room with no children to interrupt, and….
“We must take a garden gnome home for you,” he said abruptly as they came down from the tower rooms and passed the gift shop. “It will bring you good luck.”
He was thinking of her garden? She blinked at him in disbelief, and he winked back, as if he knew perfectly well what was running through her head. Which he did. He knew her far too well, and she squirmed with discomfort. He’d stripped her of all her defenses. She simply didn’t know how to do affairs and keep her distance. If they weren’t so good together, if she didn’t desperately long for their stolen moments together, she’d just bang her head through a wall and get the pain over with.
“Will he come to life at night and do my weeding?” she asked, hiding her delight that he knew whimsicality would appeal to her. She stroked the red cap of a gnome who looked like Disney’s love-struck Dopey.
“That poor fellow needs a home,” Zack said decisively, picking up Dopey and taking him to the clerk. “He’ll benefit from more nourishing surroundings than all this artificial light, don’t you think?”
Amy laughed. She had a feeling he was talking about himself, and as much as she’d liked to envision him permanently in her garden, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe it was going to happen. “How do you know he doesn’t thrive on fluorescent?”
“Because I know. He will be much happier in your garden in your good care.” He took the gift bag and her arm and steered her toward the exit. “I hope you have brought a fancy frock, as I told you. This will be the only night this week that we will share alone, you are forewarned. All is business once we reach High Point.”
She had to be mad to have agreed to this. A romantic night of dinner and dancing and lovemaking with this sexy, fascinating man who made her feel like a woman again…. But she was determined to be strong, to show him she could be a woman of the world. Still, she had to admit her frailties. “I feel guilty leaving the kids to come here early.”
“You have a life of your own,” he said firmly. “You must live it while you can. The little ones are quite happy with their cousins.” He helped her into the Bentley, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Are you regretting me, perhaps, hmm?” He raised a wicked eyebrow.
Oh, Lord, she had it so bad that his playful leer made her want to forget his promise of dinner in favor of the big bed he meant for them to share.
She wanted so much and could have so little….
“Do I regret Dopey?” She produced the gnome and studied him. “Nope. He looks quite happy to be with me.”
“Oh, he is. You may take my word for that.” Whistling, Zack closed the door and returned to the driver’s seat.
Amy traced the gnome’s lips and glanced surreptitiously at Zack. He ran his tongue over his lips and made a smacking sound.
She burst out laughing and resolved to shut all misgivings in a closet for the evening. If she didn’t know better than to lose her heart to a man who could be gone tomorrow, she might as well enjoy what they had together while it lasted.
* * *
“You are so amazingly brilliant.” Amy laughed in delight as she stepped from the bedroom of their suite to the sound of a waltz flowing from hidden speakers and a handful of white-jacketed waiters setting an elegant table on the balcony.
“I thought you might prefer a place without crowds for this evening,” Zack murmured, sweeping her into his arms and twirling her around the living room as if this were a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers film. While she’d showered and changed, he’d donned a trendy long black dinner jacket over a stiff, pleated white shirt with a mandarin collar. Gold cufflinks glittered at his wrists and a small diamond served as collar button. He looked exactly as she imagined a European movie star would look gambling at the tables in Monaco. Her very own James Bond.
They waltzed as if they’d danced together forever. Feeling light-headed, she stroked the hair brushing his collar. He tugged her closer to nibble at her ear. The layers of green silk and chiffon that Jo had helped her pick out swung around Amy’s legs, making her feel as graceful as the dancers on a movie screen. She had dreaded dancing in some loud nightclub or on a fancy dance floor where she would feel out of place. And Zack had understood, without asking.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “This is so perfect I think I must be dreaming.”
“You deserve to live your dreams, but I want to be the man who takes you there,” he murmured back.
She laughed at the notion, but she floated across the carpet as if it were a magic cloud. Her, practical Amy, living a dream with a man who could make the stars fall with a snap of his finger! For one moonstruck night, she could believe it.
When the waltz ended, Zack bowed elegantly, placed her hand on his arm, and led her outside to the balcony overlooking a stunning view of the tree-studded mountains, with the reds and golds and bronzes of the autumn foliage highlighted by the setting sun.
Amy gasped at the beauty of the idyllic scenery while waiters finished setting out china and silver on a linen-covered table. One popped the cork on a bottle of Cristal champagne and poured it into delicate flutes. Another pulled out a chair for Amy. After uncovering a deliciously browned roast duck, the waiters miraculously disappeared at a nod from Zack.
“It is a different view of your home, is it not?” He moved his chair closer to hers and tipped his glass to hers. “To the wonders of home, be it ever so glorious.”
She sipped and let the delicious bubbles tickle her tongue. How could she even begin to think in a setting like this, with a man like Zack beside her? She was aware of the closeness of his masculine thigh, the pressure of his foot against her sandal heels, the brush of his hand as he made the toast. This was the Zack she had imagined in his natural setting, the one who wined, dined, and danced with beautiful models in exotic surroundings.
And he was here, with her, making her humble home seem as wonderful and mysterious as his was to her.
Amy lost her last measure of self-consciousness and surrendered utterly to Zack’s play. Wantonly, she sipped her champagne, nibbled the duck, and slipped off her sandal to run her toes along his foot. Zack laughed and shifted so she could stroke his leg, and she nearly ended up in his lap. He fed her oysters and apricot tarts while his eyes smoked with a desire she could feel deep inside her.
They talked about everything from favorite movies to space travel. Zack lowered his perpetual charm to argue vociferously in favor of exploring Mars until he realized she was simply baiting him by presenting the opposing argument. He leaned over and sipped champagne off her tongue, deepening their kiss until they had to either make love on the table or abandon it.
“Not yet, my Amy,” he said, his voice a throaty purr as he pushed back from the table. “I want to dance with you and hold you close and make your dreams sweeter.”
He swept her onto their own private dance floor again, and in Zack’s arms, Amy finally fell madly, unalterably in love.
She hoped it was just the champagne and the giddiness of desire and the quiver of anticipation inspired by the heated look in Zack’s dark eyes, but she wasn’t examining or analyzing anything tonight. Tonight was for feeling, and she felt marvelous.
“I am brilliant, am I not?” he asked, raising a mocking eyebrow before pulling her closer.
The thin cloth of his slacks clung almost indecently to his narrow hips as he whirled her around the suite. Without giving it a second thought, Amy unfastened his tie and collar to uncover soft curls against bronzed skin. He held her close enough that she could watch the fine hairs curl when she puffed on them.
“Ummm, enjoying this, are we?” he asked, returning the favor by blowing on her earrings.
He’d bought her delightful silver feather earrings that caught the slightest breeze and sparkled in the light. She’d spent way too much time admiring them in the mirror before she’d been brave enough to emerge from the bedroom. And from the heat of his gaze, she gathered Zack was enjoying them equally well.
But it was the sheer muscle of the man beneath the thin fabrics, the responsiveness of his body to her slightest touch, and the furnace blast of desire engulfing them as they moved as one around the room that she was enjoying most. Zack didn’t push and pull and drag her across the floor but anticipated the music and the way they swayed together without need of any more than a gentle touch on her back or hip.
They were making love with clothing on.
The waiters returned to clear the room. The moment they closed the door after them, Zack smoothed his long-fingered hand down Amy’s back, and her zipper whispered open. The strapless bodice fell with it.
She slid her fingers into the placket of his shirt and popped the studs, one by one.
He shrugged off his jacket and threw it across a sofa. She let her gown fall to her feet and stepped out of it as he swirled her in circles. His hand scorched her bare flesh when he pulled her back into his arms and danced her across the room again.
He lowered her into a dip and caressed the silk barely covering her hips. “Garters — for me?” he purred with delight.
She’d been unsure about wearing anything so blatantly sexy, but his pleasure in the discovery was worth hours of uncertainty. And this moment made them the perfect choice. She could never have imagined how effective they would be — as Zack’s hungry gaze focused downward, caressing her breasts in the demi bra, fastening on the silky stockings and saucy green garters.
“I’ll let you wear them, if you like,” she teased, enjoying his pleasure by daringly pushing his shirt from his shoulders and planting a kiss at the base of his throat.
He chuckled and released her wired bra. Amy closed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief and desire as his hands took hers and slid them around his neck, then cupped her unfettered breasts. His arousal pressed against her belly, and the dance slowly swayed to a halt in front of the fireplace, where a fire crackled.
Zack lowered his head to claim her mouth. Amy lifted hers to meet him.
“Tonight, you are mine,” he whispered.
She didn’t argue because he was right. They were no longer inexperienced in the way each other’s bodies worked. She had learned he was sensitive to touch, and that she need only run her palms over his skin to feel his erection lengthen. He knew she responded to soft music and sweet tastes. She’d been seduced before he even laid her across the pillows on the floor.
“Stay with me, Amy,” he murmured as the last of their clothing slipped away. “Let me show you the world.”
And because he was showing her a world she’d never known, she let the words become part of the dream they were creating in the warmth of the flames, a dream she could never hope to attain, but one that opened her arms and heart and let her take him in.
For now. For the moment.