“I’ll bring her back,” Jenny said firmly. “What will I need?”
“I’ll get the plane ticket sorted,” Lydia said. “Give me your phone number and we can stay in touch as we work out the details.” She produced a phone from somewhere impossible within her dress.
“I dunno,” Breck said skeptically as the girls exchanged numbers. “I’ll do what I can, but Scarlet doesn’t fool easily.”
“She’s got a lot on her plate right now,” Jenny said soothingly. “She’d probably just rather not be bothered.”
Travis smothered a dry laugh. “If by that you mean she is totally fed up with lawyers—present company excluded—and insurance company bean counters, and we should all just stay completely out of her way anyway, that’s probably true.”
“I thought she seemed tense,” Lydia said knowingly, as she sat back again. “That’s settled then. Thank you.”
Wrench added, gruffly but sincerely, “Thank you.”
He was rewarded with smiles from all but Graham.
They stood up, and Wrench gave firm handshakes all around.
“Now then,” Lydia said, standing and brushing out her skirt. “I believe we were in the middle of a date?”
Wrench frowned and stood at attention. “Yes, ma’am.”
This earned them a round of smirks and knowing looks, which Wrench chose to ignore as Lydia slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Head as high as it went, he led her out of The Den and back into the darkness that was just theirs.
Chapter 12
“You are amazing,” Wrench said gruffly to Lydia, once they were out of earshot of The Den.
It was astonishingly meaningful. Lydia looked up at his face, already so familiar. “I couldn’t do anything less,” she said simply.
He stopped, and Lydia drew up in front of him. Just as she had hoped he would, he gathered her gently into his arms. “Thank you,” he said. He looked like he might want to say something more, but only repeated, “Thank you.”
Then he kissed her again, and Lydia put her arms around him, wherever she could reach, and kissed him back.
His shoulders were ridiculously wide under her hands, and his mouth was insistent and strong on hers. His hands seemed to hold her entire torso with no effort, big thumbs making patterns along her muscles. Every nerve in her body was alive with hunger.
“My room,” Lydia breathed, when they broke apart for a moment of air. Wrench’s hands gripped harder, then he let her go free with visible effort. She made herself let go as well, stepping back. She smoothed her mussed hair back, then took his elbow again.
They maintained a decent charade of self-control all the way up the gravel path, breaking it only as they came to the front entrance of the spa. Lydia wasn’t sure who reached first, but they fell into the doorway pulling at each oth
er’s clothing, desperate for the feel of skin against skin.
His plain gray silk tie came untied with a whisper and was flung to the tiled floor. Lydia’s fingers were trembling with need as she unbuttoned the tiny buttons of the shirt beneath, and she had to pause to run her hands up underneath the crisp material.
Wrench’s hands were trying to make sense of her dress, baffled by the lack of zippers or buttons, while his mouth was distracted on her neck and at her collarbone.
Lydia finally took mercy on him and backed far enough away to get her dress off over her head.
The way he looked at her, amazed and longing, made Lydia pause, wearing nothing but her heels and underthings.
“You are so beautiful,” Wrench said breathlessly.
Lydia realized that he wasn’t going to move again without help, and stepped into his waiting hands. “You’re wearing too much,” she told him chidingly.
Moving much faster than a man of his size ought to, he sent the jacket spinning across the room, shortly followed by the shirt. Lydia wasn’t sure if he managed the buttons or simply tore them off, and didn’t find that she cared either way, as his free hand was touching parts of her like they’d never been touched before. When she moved up against him, she was keenly aware of his erection between them, pressing in tantalizing places.
He lifted her up onto one of the chairs, kissing her neck and running big hands down her thighs. He toyed with the lace of her underpants, but didn’t offer to remove them, making Lydia sigh in delicious frustration.
“You’re still wearing too much,” she pointed out.