Page 79 of Their Christmas Miracle

III

A Rope to Bind

Erin

Erin pushed back her shoulders and lifted a hesitant fist to the door of room seven. She paused, let her arm fall to her side and tossed back her hair.

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered.

She used the keycard she’d fetched from reception to open the door.

It was dark inside. Erin rolled her eyes and stepped out of her shoes. Why had she packed sexy lingerie, even? In this pitch-black room, she’d be surprised if she didn’t receive a head injury after cannoning into the wall because she’d tripped over the rug.

“Hello?”

No reply.

Erin dropped her handbag to the floor and unbuttoned her blouse. Lexi’s mention of food had woken up her stomach. God… had Zach taken into account the fact that she’d last eaten something like five hours ago?

Her blouse slid to the floor.

Was he watching her?

Erin almost laughed, but stopped herself. Of course not: how could he see anything in this dark? It didn’t make the fact that she felt eyes on her any less insistent, though.

She tugged off her bra and dropped it on the floor, stepping out of her skirt and kicking it aside seconds later.

It was kind of weird, being almost naked in a foreign room. She had no idea what lay ahead: a small living room, or a large, four-poster bed. This hotel was archaic enough that a four-poster might even be part of the decor.

She’d never slept in a four poster before.

Erin shivered as a cool breeze teased her bare ankles. She ran her fingers around the elastic band of her underwear — still the boring, comfortable pair she’d word for the trip — but she decided to keep her undies on. She was at least ninety-percent naked.

Oh yes, her instructions.

She reached blindly beside her and found the table. There was indeed a rope, partially coiled, held to its surface by a rock. Maybe they’d been out of stock of paperweights.

Erin suppressed a giggle — she shouldn’t have downed that cocktail like that — and tugged the rope free. Zach had better not take his time; it had been a long car trip and she could easily pass out before he even got to her.

She trailed the rope through her hands as she followed it through the room. Somehow — either through and ingenious layout or the shifting of furniture — it described a clear path through the room.

Her fingers brushed a pole.

Wood. Varnished. So that was the smell in the air: wood and a touch of musty fabric. Like the inside of an old castle.

Her fingertips traced a carved design.

A hat-stand? She walked forward, gasping when her shin bumped into something. A blanket. A blanket draped over the foot of a bed.

A four poster bed.

Erin’s stomach coiled with unexpected pleasure. Well, maybe this weekend wouldn’t be a complete waste of time.

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