Whirlwind Secrets Read online

  It didn’t matter how long Russ hammered, he couldn’t sweat out his frustration. Inhaling the scent of pine, he dragged an arm across his damp forehead and stepped back to eye the finished side of the door frame. The rest of the frame and one wall would complete this shop.

  The sharp staccato footsteps coming across the lobby toward his workspace didn’t prepare him for the angry flash of Lydia’s eyes when she appeared in his doorway.

  Cheeks flushed, she looked fit to be tied. “Do you know what’s going on upstairs?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought we agreed on this,” she said tersely.

  “Agreed on what?” He tested the plank he’d just hammered and found it sturdy enough. She was downright agitated.

  “I just saw—they went—” She fluttered a hand in the direction of the staircase. “They’re up there doing…things.”

  Russ felt as confused as if he’d been kicked in the head by a horse. “Who’s doing what?”

  The flush streaking her cheeks deepened and her gaze skipped around the room.

  He couldn’t help but admire the fit of her deep purple day dress. The white edging at the neckline and cuffs drew attention to her chest and the way the bodice smoothed over her full lush breasts.

  Tearing his focus from there, he asked, “Lydia, who’s doing what?”

  Her mouth flattened and she grabbed him by the arm. “Come with me.”

  Her hand slid away as he followed her. Picking up her skirts, she swept up the staircase ahead of him, giving him an impatient look when he lagged behind a couple of steps. She sure had a bee in her bonnet about something.

  Seeing her all stirred up like that stirred Russ up, too. He watched the gentle sway of her hips, wondering what her undergarments looked like.

  At the top of the stairs, she waited, hands on her hips as her gaze shot down the hall. Gaslight flickered on the walls and floors, moving as their shadows did. The air faintly smelled of fuel. When Russ reached the landing, she snagged his hand and dragged him around the staircase and down to a room near the end of the hall.

  She came to an abrupt stop in front of the door and jabbed a finger toward it. “Listen.”

  After a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

  She tugged him right up to the wood. “There.”

  He leaned close and then he heard it. A long moan followed by a giggle and the steady rhythm of a creaking bed frame. Surprised, his gaze shot to Lydia. The rosy tint of arousal on her face started a low throb in his blood.

  Cheeks streaked with color, she looked away. “I saw a woman, one of those women, going upstairs with a guest.”

  “She could also be a guest here.”

  Lydia gave him a look. “I asked Willow.”

  Yeah, Willow would know.

  Another groan sounded, definitely a groan of pleasure. Lydia nearly jumped out of her skin. “Tell them to stop!”

  It would be better for Russ’s imagination and his body if he did, because his mind was stuck on wondering what it would take to make Lydia moan.

  “You know that isn’t supposed to be going on in the hotel.”

  He’d thought plenty about doing the same thing with her. In the hotel or anywhere.

  Beside him, she shifted from one foot to the other, her fingers nervously playing over her sister’s watch. Russ watched in fascination as her blush deepened and her breathing sped up. Hell, this was affecting her, too.

  Another moan followed by a breathless “yes” had Lydia drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

  She flicked him a look from under her lashes and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. The soft white light skimming her jaw, the graceful arch of her neck, the thick raven hair in a practical chignon. Russ wanted to take her hair down, shuck her clothes off.

  Standing just behind her shoulder as he was, his gaze was drawn to the narrow patch of skin bared by the vee of her split neckline. He could see nothing except that tiny bit of flesh, not even a hint of the valley between her breasts. He broke out in a sweat anyway.

  She tilted her head toward the door. “Tell them.”

  “Hell, no!” He stepped back. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow, but I’m not busting in there.”

  “You don’t have to bust in. Just knock and tell them to stop.”

  Russ shook his head, tension coiling inside him at the way her voice had turned husky.

  “Other guests will hear them,” she said in exasperation. “I heard them and I wasn’t even in this hallway.”

  Watching the rapid rise and fall of her full breasts sawed at the lock on his self-control. If he wanted, he could bend his head and nip her delicate earlobe. He had to force himself not to reach for her.

  “If you break up whatever’s going on in there, you’ll just be drawing attention to them,” he said. “Other people probably won’t even notice.”

  “How can they not? The two of them are loud enough to be heard clear to Ef’s.”

  At his chuckle, she huffed out a breath. “I’ll do it myself.”

  She raised a hand to knock. Russ hooked an arm around her waist and hauled her away from the door. “No, you won’t.”

  She gasped in outrage and squirmed. It could’ve been the feel of her body moving sinuously against his or her reaction to those love sounds. Whatever it was had Russ operating on pure reflex. He carried her into the next room and shut the door.

  Moonlight streamed through the window, making her features appear even more delicate. Her warm breath tickled his throat as she pushed at him. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

  He did. The second her feet touched the floor, he slapped a hand on either side of her, caging her in with his body and covered her mouth with his.

  He didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice, didn’t stop. He had to have another taste. He had to have her.

  She resisted for less than the span of a heartbeat. Then with a soft breathy sound, her mouth opened to his and her arms went around his neck.

  The same primal need he’d felt the other night clawed through him. He wanted to strip her naked, bare those lush breasts, get his hands on her. Aching, he took the kiss deeper, intoxicated by the dark sweetness of her mouth.

  It seemed as though he had wanted her forever. When she melted into him, he moved his hands down the wall to bracket her waist. She buried her fingers in his hair as he dragged his lips from hers and nipped lightly at her earlobe the way he’d wanted.

  The broken sound she made turned Russ hard as a poker. Her heart was beating so hard, so fast, he could feel her pulse beneath his tongue. Filled with the scent of warm woman and lavender, he murmured, “I wanted to do this the other night.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her words had him kissing her again. After a long moment, he pulled back, breathing hard. He wanted her and only her. She needed to know.

  Her questions about him and Willow had nagged him since she had asked. It mattered what Lydia thought. He nuzzled her cheek, her ear, savoring the silky texture of her skin. “When you asked me about Willow, I wanted to tell you I haven’t been with her in a long time. Don’t plan to be ever again.”

  Her hands moved over his shoulders and she pulled him down, initiating the kiss this time. Russ wanted to taste all of her, touch all of her. Skimming his hands up over her rib cage to the undersides of her full breasts, he brushed his thumbs across her nipples. Beneath the wool of her bodice he felt them tighten.

  Making a rough sound that echoed his own need, she shifted so that one of his thighs pressed between hers. Compelled by the frustration, the arousal, the concern he had reined in since seeing her with Bram, Russ moved his lips to her ear, down to the delicate wing of her collarbone.

  He wanted to drink her up. She was soft and warm, honeysweet beneath his tongue. He just knew she’d taste like this all over. The need to find out had him moving one hand to the buttons going down the front of her bodice.

  He touched his tongue to each bit
of skin revealed by the next open button then the next, unfastening the top to her waist. When he buried his face in the fragrant warmth between her breasts, she pressed hard against his erection.

  “Russ,” she said on a ragged breath that drove a spike of burning need through him.

  He peeled the bodice back, his breath jamming in his lungs at the sight of her.

  Her skin glowed in the silvery moonlight. The corset covering her low-cut chemise plumped up her lush breasts and they swelled over the satin edge of the undergarment. Looking wasn’t enough. He had to touch.

  Freeing the first few hooks of her corset, he loosened the tie of her chemise and pushed it off her shoulder along with her sleeve until he could cup her breast. The full weight of her in his hand frayed Russ’s control. He licked the inner curve of her smooth warm flesh, nudging the fabric completely out of his way.

  A breathy moan slipped out of her and she touched a shaking hand to his face, guiding him into another kiss.

  Long seconds later, he lifted his head, wanting to rip the pins from her hair, bury his face in its thickness, see it swirling like black satin around her bare shoulders.

  Pulling away so he could see her velvety flesh, he continued to ply his thumb across her taut rosy nipple. She opened her eyes, and the desire smoldering in the midnight depths kicked off an urgency inside him. He bent again for her mouth.

  The hard knock of the bed against the wall in the next room served to clear his head long enough for him to register voices in the hallway. Familiar voices.

  Lydia made a needy sound deep in her throat, trying to pull him back to her. Breathing hard, he moved his hand from her breast to her mouth and listened.

  She stilled, looking half-dazed then questioning.

  “Ef and Naomi are out there looking for us,” he whispered. Panic flickered in her eyes and he expected her to jump like a shot rabbit.

  Instead, she pressed closer to him. Russ heard their friends move away down the hall, still searching. When he looked down to tell Lydia to be quiet a little longer, his knees nearly buckled at the heated invitation in her dark eyes.

  The bed next door banged the wall again. And again. He could still hear the low murmur of Ef’s and Naomi’s voices, but the sounds faded as he lost himself in Lydia’s dark eyes. He took his hand away, kissing her again, deep and hot and soft.

  After a long minute, he pulled back. They were both breathing hard, her lips wet and swollen from his. He could barely gather up his common sense. This wasn’t the place for what he wanted to do.

  He should’ve romanced her before pouncing on her the way he had, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

  “You tear me up, Lydia,” he said huskily.

  She gripped the front of his shirt with both hands, trembling against him. He pulled up her chemise to cover her. The thought that she might have done this with Bram had frustration roiling through him.

  She was his and he planned to have her.

  “Sugar, if you can kiss me like that, you shouldn’t be with Bram.”

  She stiffened, shock flaring in her eyes as though she’d forgotten about the rancher. Russ meant to make sure she did.

  After she hooked her corset, he helped her straighten her bodice. As he watched her button up, he knew he had to leave that second or he was going to start all over with her.

  Aching, he stepped back. “I’m going down first. You follow when you’re ready.”

  After she nodded, he slipped out, relieved to see the hall was empty. His blood hummed as he started down the stairs.

  He knew all of her secrets now. The only thing between them was Bram. And Russ was ready to do something about that.

  Chapter Twelve

  S ugar, if you can kiss me like that, you shouldn’t be with Bram.

  Russ was right, Lydia admitted the next morning as she stood in front of her vanity mirror. She wanted to tell him the truth about Bram, about everything. She was sick of lying to him.

  After buttoning her bodice, she pulled her hair into a loose chignon. She hadn’t slept much the night before. At first, because she had been too wound up. Her breasts, her entire body tingled from his touch, his kisses. And then, once her body had settled down, her mind wouldn’t. She couldn’t close her eyes because her thoughts were racing with ridiculous ideas like ending her pretend relationship with Bram.

  Jake and Emma were part of the network. One of them could meet Lydia if and when necessary. She had gone back and forth all night about letting Russ know she wasn’t having a romance with Bram.

  She hated him thinking she would allow the liberties she had while supposedly seeing another man. And she hated that she had to let him think it. Of course, she shouldn’t have let Russ touch her, kiss her the way he had, but she had been completely swept away. For the first time in her life, she had been focused on a man to the exclusion of everything else. That had certainly never happened with Wade.

  Because Russ had seen her with Bram, she had explained to Bram that Russ believed the two of them were having a romance. Bram didn’t like the idea of continuing the charade any more than she did. As Russ had mentioned in the livery, Bram was sweet on Deborah Blue. They weren’t a couple, but he was working on it.

  Even though neither Lydia nor Bram wanted to continue the pretense, they agreed it was best for now. Which only made it more difficult for Lydia to forget the feel of Russ’s mouth and hands on her.

  Exasperated at herself, she pushed the memories away. She had things to do. A few seconds later, she was on her way downstairs with her journal, her mind on the wayward guests from the night before.

  She’d been angry when she had first gotten him upstairs, even more frustrated when he refused to intervene with the couple in question. Then in two seconds, her irritation had shifted to desire.

  Listening to those noises on the other side of the door had made her pulse hitch, but nowhere near as wild as it had gotten when every inch of her had been pressed tight to every inch of Russ. Mercy, the man could kiss.

  She reached the second floor landing and paused. Her partner had said he would talk to the couple this morning, so she knew he would. Still, she couldn’t resist a look down the hall to the place where Russ had completely overwhelmed her senses. And there he was, in front of the guest room.

  A blue shirt molded the powerful lines of his massive chest and shoulders. She knew she was staring at the strong thighs and long legs in denims, and she couldn’t make herself stop.

  He glanced over then a slow smile curved his lips. Even from where she was standing, she could see the blue of his eyes. Turning toward her, he braced one shoulder on the wall and fixed his full attention on her.

  His gaze slid down her body and back up so intently it felt as though he were actually touching her. Her breath caught as sensation pooled low in her belly.

  “Mornin’,” he said, his low drawl enough to have her going soft inside.

  “Good morning.” She told herself to continue down the stairs, but her feet weren’t moving in that direction. She walked closer to him.

  Even without that wicked glint in his eyes, Lydia would’ve blushed at the frank male look he gave her.

  “Did you think I’d forget what I told you last night?”

  “No.” She smiled. “I thought I’d check and see if you’d already done it.”

  “Nope.” His gaze traced over her again. “You look pretty.”

  “I’m in my work clothes,” she said drily.

  “Still pretty.”

  Her nerves shimmered. He looked at her as if he wanted to finish what he’d started last night and get her all the way naked.

  “Stop that,” she ordered quietly.

  “Can’t help myself.”

  He sounded so silly that she rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Would you prefer I talk to these people?”

  He chuckled. “Last night, you couldn’t even say to me what they were doing.”

  A reluctant smile curved her lips. “This mo
rning I’m feeling more bold.”

  “Maybe I should take advantage of that.” His eyes flashed hotly, and Lydia knew he wasn’t talking about the issue at hand. She felt a hard tug of desire.

  “This isn’t something a lady should have to do,” he continued. “Besides, it’ll be better if it’s coming from me. The man will be embarrassed if a lady talks to him about it.”

  “All right.” Relieved, Lydia retreated a step. “I’ll make myself scarce.”

  “Don’t go too far,” he murmured.

  The way his voice stroked over her gave her a shiver and she walked off, hearing him laugh softly behind her. Devil.

  After one last glance, she started down to the lobby. She had to admit she appreciated his taking care of the matter, but her stomach was jumping. The man made her giddy.

  She could hardly credit it. No man had ever affected her this way. If he hadn’t stopped when he had last night, things would’ve gotten intimate. Lydia hadn’t had the willpower or presence of mind to call a halt.

  Her complete surrender frightened her. And excited her, too.

  As she walked into the kitchen, she realized she was still smiling. She joined Naomi next to the stove where the other woman was mixing up a cake. Willow came out of the storage room and made her way over to them.

  “How are they doing?” Lydia asked Willow in a low voice.

  Last night, an abuse victim who hadn’t planned a stop at The Fontaine had been forced to seek shelter here when she had gone into labor. Because Lydia had been upstairs with Russ, and Naomi was off somewhere with Ef, it had fallen to Willow to help the woman.

  Willow had experience with childbirth, but she hadn’t known about the underground operation. Now she did. She had sworn to tell no one and Lydia believed her. Anyone who could hide a woman in labor and deliver a baby without Lydia or Naomi finding out could keep quiet about the secret operation.

  “Things looked grim at first.” The blonde kept an eye on the doorway. “But it all turned out well.”

  “Good.” Lydia noticed Willow’s cuts and bruises were almost healed. She was even more beautiful than Lydia had first thought. She was glad Russ had told her last night that he didn’t plan to be with the woman again.