Page 58 of Release Me
‘I’ll show her.’ Rian leaps to his feet from his position by the fire.
‘I bet you will.’ Ivy grins. ‘I would say keep it in your pants, Baby Beckett, but Bekka here needs someone to put a smile on her face.’ She winks and darts after her husband.
‘Subtle, isn’t she?’ Rian smirks, slowly striding towards me. I stand from the armchair I’d claimed—it seemed safer than sitting next to him.
‘As a sledgehammer.’ I smile, unable to help myself. ‘I got grilled on the way over here.’
‘What did you tell them?’ He closes the distance between us, and his familiar, pheromone inducing cologne seeps into my nose and sets my skin on fire.
I tilt my head up to meet his gaze as he towers over me. ‘I told them you kissed me,’ I admit. ‘But I didn’t say where.’
‘I also got the Spanish Inquisition from my brothers.’ He reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Goosebumps ripple over my spine.
‘What did you tell them?’ My fingers tingle with the need to touch him, but I don’t. Christmas Day was supposed to be a one-time thing. I’m not embarking on an affair. Especially one that’s destined to lead to more pain after the pleasure.
‘Much the same.’ He pauses for a long beat. ‘Shall I show you to your room? Thomson will have put your bag up there already.’
‘Sure,’ I shrug, mentally willing myself the strength to let him out of it once he does.
I place my empty glass on the coffee table with the others and follow him out into the huge corridor. ‘The house is stunning,’ I say, marvelling at the rich, dark décor, panelled walls and high ceilings.
‘It’s quiet. You’ll probably struggle to sleep,’ he observes, slowing his step and allowing me to fall in line beside him.
‘I probably won’t even try. There’s no point. I’m wired.’ I shoot him a sidewards glance as our hands brush. Electricity shoots up my arm, over my spine, and through every nerve in my body.
‘An hour in the hot tub might wind you down.’ His palm lands on the base of my spine as he guides me up a wide set of red-carpeted stairs. Goosebumps ripple over my skin as I admire the gilded landscapes framing the walls to our left. I’d love to stop and study them, but I can’t concentrate on anything other than his hand. His fingers. Especially now I know what he can do with them.
‘I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’ Saliva floods my tongue.
‘Neither did I.’ A wicked grin lifts his lips. ‘But I’ll get in if you do.’
The prospect sets heat flooding through my veins, throbbing between my legs as we reach the top of the stairs. ‘Is that a good idea?’
‘Probably not. But it beats the alternative—not getting in with you.’
I can’t bring myself to argue with him as he ushers me to the end of the hallway, the last door on the left.
‘This is your room.’ He pushes open the door. Warm lamplight spills across a bedroom that looks like it was pulled from the pages of a glossy ranch catalogue. Dark-stained timber panels climb halfway up the walls before giving way to rich cream plaster. A heavy four-poster bed dominates the space, dressed in thick quilts—deep greens and russet reds woven through a cream base, the kind of bedding made forburrowing into on winter nights. A plaid wool throw is folded across the foot, soft and inviting.
A pair of leather armchairs flank a small stone fireplace where a low fire crackles, sending out waves of heat and the faint scent of peat. Beside them, a trunk serves as a coffee table, scattered with a few hardback books and an old brass lamp.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch along one wall, framed by weighty drapes in forest green. Beyond the glass, the Wicklow Mountains roll away in soft, snow-dusted peaks, the sky already tinged with the pink-gold of a fading afternoon.
Everything about the room whispers warmth and quiet strength—like it’s built to weather storms, to hold secrets safe. Maybe even our secret…
By the door, my overnight case sits neatly on a bench. The glossy cream leather designer bag looks wildly out of place amid all the dark wood and worn leather. Its gold hardware winks in the firelight, a reminder of the world I came from—and the one I’m trying to forget, tonight at least.
‘You like it?’ Rian follows me in, pushes the door to, and leans on it until it shuts with a sharp click.
‘I love it. I wish we could stay here forever.’ I step further inside, spinning slowly, soaking in every decadent detail.
‘Me too,’ Rian sighs. ‘Me too.’ He brushes a hand over his chiselled jawline. ‘So are we hitting the hot tub?’ Huge ebony eyes flick towards the bed. ‘Or do you have a better idea?’
‘Hot tub,’ I decide. It doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.
That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.
‘There are robes in there.’ He points to a dark wooden wardrobe, its polished surface gleaming in the firelight. ‘I’ll get ready and meet you outside your door in five.’
