by Elise Faber
Fifteen
Cecilia, present day
* * *
Running. So much running.
It was becoming her specialty, her superpower.
Cecilia Thiele—world-class sprinter when things got tough and uncomfortable.
She’d had a lifetime to practice that particular skill.
“Fuck,” she muttered and then winced and smiled apologetically when a mom with her two young sons slid her a look.
One of them was about Hunter’s age and whispered, or rather attempted to whisper because somehow when kids that age tried to whisper, their voices ended up carrying. And the shuttle they were in wasn’t large.
Which meant she heard the little boy’s excited statement with crystal clarity. “Mom she said the f-word!”
The younger of the two boys said, “I thought the f-word was fart. She said fu—”
“Oh look,” CeCe said, leaning over him to point out the window. “That tree is huge!”
It wasn’t really, but it got the boys attention off one another and their focus out the window rather than on her unfortunate use of the non-fart f-word.
The mom gave her squinty eyes for a second before grinning. “Definitely not the first time they’ve heard it, nor will it be the last.” She shrugged. “Just trying to keep that one”—she tilted her head in the direction of the littler brother—“out of the loop for as long as possible. He always saves that kind of stuff for the most inopportune moments.”
The dad chuckled and slung an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Like the grocery store checkout line.”
“And the dentist.” The mom grimaced. “And the school play.”
“I’m sorry,” CeCe said again. “I should know better. I’m a nanny.”
“Oh!” the mom said, a faintly calculating note in her voice. “Well then maybe in payment for your huge transgression, we can hit you up for a kid-free night while we’re here. How long are you staying?”
“Lizzie,” the husband warned. “You’re laying it on really thick. You’re the one who taught Tate his first bad word after all.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, at least he used it correctly.”
“At the dentist. ‘Get the goddammed thing out of my mouth,’ were his exact words if I remember correctly.”
CeCe giggled as the woman popped him on the arm. “Shh! I just got him to stop saying it.” She glanced up and smiled. “I’m just kidding about the babysitting,” she said as the shuttle slowed to turn into the resort. “But if you’re ever lonely and want a little company, here’s my cell.” She passed over a card. “We’ll be here for ten days.”
Cecilia glanced down at the paper and noted the California address for a company that she didn’t recognize. She’d known they were from the States, given their accent, but they both had a hint of twang that didn’t scream the Golden Coast.
“Oh, how funny,” she said, noting the location was near the firm where Abby and Jordan worked, RoboTech. “I live just outside of Marin.”
Lizzie clapped her hands. “So we’ve traveled halfway around the world to meet someone who only lives thirty minutes away?”
“Small world,” the husband said and extended a hand. “I’m Sam. It’s nice to meet you . . .”
“Cecilia,” she supplied. “Nice to meet you too. And it’s lovely scenery all the same,” she said to Lizzie. “I hope you and your boys have a fabulous trip. I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”
“Text me!” Lizzie whispered as they departed the shuttle. “We can do a spa day! I need some girl time.”
CeCe couldn’t help smiling at Lizzie’s energy. There was something incredibly infectious about her, like a little old granny whom nobody could deny anything. “I will,” she whispered back.
Then she gathered her suitcase, which had been delivered to the London hotel overnight and pulled it in the direction of registration. Thirty minutes later, she was on her way to her very own glass-roofed cabin.
And it was ah-mazing.
The first thing CeCe did was drop her bag on the floor and hurry over to the window-encased dome at the end of the cabin. A bed sat beneath the glass and she jumped on top of it to stare up at the sky. Though it was still daytime, it was already getting dark.
Would this be the night that she saw the aurora borealis?
Hopefully. But maybe not. She at least had time. Lots of time and she would see them, dammit.
For once in her life, one of her dreams was going to come true.
Sighing at the oh-so-lovely thought, she pushed off the bed and set about hanging up her jacket and tucking away her clothes. Then she cranked up the sauna—her cabin had a private one—because that seemed like a very Finnish thing to do.
Later she would walk over to the restaurant for dinner before double-checking the forecast.
Solar activity was predicted to be low for the next few days, but CeCe didn’t plan on letting that stop her.
She’d tape her eyelids open if necessary.
Her clothes ended up in a pile near the bed, but she didn’t bother picking them up. She could be messy for once and not worry that she would potentially be setting a bad example for her charges.
Naked, she strode toward the sauna and had just sat on the wooden bench, ladle of water in her hand, ready to dump over the hot rocks, when there was a knock on the door.
“Dammit,” she muttered and spooned the water onto the rocks before standing and reaching for a towel that was hanging outside the door. It was probably a staff member, having forgotten to tell her something important.
The steam hit her skin and beads of moisture slid down her chest, between her breasts and lower, between her thighs.
She was hot and wet all over, but that had been a common problem of hers of late.
“Seriously,” she muttered and headed for the door, throwing it open without glancing through the peephole.
Which was seriously an idiotic thing to do.
Because standing on the other side of the door wasn’t a staff member with a forgotten bit of advice or a slightly pesky query.
Nope.
Standing on the opposite side of the pane of wood was none other than Colin McGregor.
And she, Cecilia Thiele, idiot of all idiots, lost her grip on her towel.
Sixteen
Colin, present day
* * *
Colin’s eyes bugged out of his head for a second, his gaze traveling every inch of CeCe’s lush body— gently swaying breasts, narrow hips, flat stomach . . . flaming red curls.
Holy fucking shit.
Then he blinked and realized that any person walking by Cecilia’s cabin would be able to see that gorgeous body.
The body that should be for his eyes only.
Yes, he was an arrogant asshole. Yes, he knew that Cecilia was a woman and it was technically her body first and foremost.
But fuck if Colin wanted another lecherous prick to lay eyes on her.
“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice sounding as though he’d swallowed a bloody flamethrower. He’d called in a favor to an acquaintance that specialized in hacking to find out CeCe’s cabin number, had been all the more thankful for that small victory when he’d driven onto the huge property belonging to the resort.
In the meantime, Cecilia was still frozen in shock, her mouth gaping in a way that made him want to kiss her senseless, so he picked up the towel, wrapped it around her and pushed her gently backward.
Her feet moved without protest, allowing him to step forward into the room. She didn’t do anything without protest, so Colin knew she was thrown completely for a loop. She didn’t speak a word when he closed the door behind him, didn’t say anything when he brushed by her to set his bag near the closet. Hell, she didn’t even comment when he set the bag of takeaway he’d grabbed from the restaurant on the counter of the little kitchenette tucked away in one corner of the cabin.
In fact, the only thing that seemed to startle her out of her stupor was hi
m dropping his pants to the floor.
“Col—” she began but gasped when his underwear joined the pile.
His socks were next, stuffed into the boots Joanne had sent with a suitcase of warm clothes, followed by his jacket and shirt.
And then he walked toward Cecilia, wanting nothing more than to strip the towel from her hands before tossing her onto the bed and making love to her under the darkening sky.
But she’d been in the middle of something when he’d knocked.
Colin intended that she finish it and was fully committed to naked reciprocity.
He’d seen hers, it was only fair she saw his.
Okay, that wasn’t the only reason.
He worked out a lot and knew his body was in shape. If seeing him parade around naked somehow convinced CeCe to transform into one of those crazed women at a Magic Mike show, then he was all for it.
Yes, he was well aware he was an idiot, but a man had to be cognizant of his shortcomings.
A narrow hall opened into a bathroom, but the water wasn’t running and the telltale humidity of an interrupted shower was absent. He closed the door behind him and opened the next, feeling the gust of heat spread over his skin on a rush.
A sauna. Of course.
When in Finland.
“What are—?” Cecilia began from behind his left shoulder, but she didn’t get to finish the question because he merely wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her toward the open door.
“Let’s finish your sauna,” he said, sitting on the bench. “It was rude of me to interrupt.”
“As if you give a damn about interrupt—”
He ladled a spoonful of water onto the heated rocks, cutting off what would no doubt have been a scathing remark about his insensitivity.
“Colin!” she exclaimed over the hissing stones and steam filling the air.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Oh, my God,” she said, exasperated. “You’re still the same.”
“No.” He placed his hand over hers, leaning close to stare into her eyes. He needed her to see, needed her to understand that this was their chance at a fresh start, and that he wasn’t the same moronic asshole from their past. “I’m not, sweetheart. I’ve changed. For the better. My family doesn’t control me, not any longer.” Her fingers pulsed beneath his, startled. “I don’t know what happened with them, what they did to you. But I should have known better than to believe them when they said you ran off with Ewan. You’re kind, CeCe. Honest, compassionate. You wouldn’t do that to me.”
Colin’s chest was heaving and his palms were damp . . . and not from the heat of the sauna.
He had to make her understand. He—
“No,” she said. “I didn’t run off with Ewan.” She slipped her hand free of his, pressed it firmly to her chest, just above the towel she’d wrapped back around herself. “But I did leave with him. It’s only . . .” She hesitated and then sighed deeply. “Ewan gave me an escape route after you shattered my heart into a million pieces.”
Seventeen
Colin, eight years before
* * *
Colin was sneaking out for the tenth time in as many days when his father caught him.
Ian McGregor was a big man, but he was also able to hide in the shadows when necessary.
And apparently catching his son sneaking out to meet a girl was necessary.
“Where are you going, son?”
Colin froze in the act of saddling Bowen. He’d promised CeCe a ride on his stallion before she went home. Which was in only a few days time and because he had to go with his father to London for business the following evening, he needed to see her that evening.
It was his last chance to be alone with the girl who’d captivated him so completely.
She was beautiful on the outside, he’d known that from the first moment he’d seen her. But what had surprised Colin was how strongly he felt connected to the CeCe on the inside.
Generous. Funny. Sweet and shy. She was both a temptress and a shrew, but in the best way, alternately calling him on his bullshit and managing to draw him closer with her honest ways.
He’d kissed her for the first time five days before, and she’d frozen for a moment.
Long enough for him to second-guess her interest, but just as he’d started to pull back, she’d launched herself into his arms and then kissed him senseless.
Literally, her mouth on his made his mind spin.
And he couldn’t wait to kiss her again.
Which meant he needed to get the hell away from his father.
Because if there was one thing his father did not approve of it was Colin seeing anyone besides Olivia Stewart, the girl his age from the neighboring estate. Their fathers were best friends and had been hoping for a matchmaking success, but neither Colin nor Olivia were the least bit interested in each other.
Still, their fathers were interfering ninnies, and though Olivia had taken to dating a university student from Oxford, they still continued to hold out hope for a match.
“I’m going out,” he said. “But I’ll be home early enough to not delay our trip.” He finished saddling Bo and began leading him out from the stables.
“Are you seeing Ollie?” his father asked, using the pet name their family had for Olivia.
Now don’t get him wrong, Olivia was a gorgeous girl and had a hell of a lot of good qualities, but she was as much of a sister to him as . . . well, his own biological sister.
“Dad—” he began.
“She broke up with that snotty English brat,” Ian said. “You could have her now, Son.”
He could never have her. Not Olivia. Not in that way.
Not when a certain American girl was his summer obsession.
Who was going home soon. With whom he wanted to soak up as much time as possible.
And also with whom his family would blow a gasket if they learned of his infatuation.
Because McGregors did not associate with Americans.
Not since a business deal had gone bad in 1896. Yes, in 1896. An American had reneged on a railroad contract in the states and gone with a competitor. And adding further insult to injury, he’d run off with the investment, leaving the McGregor coffers in a bad state.
And so, Americans were anathema and Colin seeing one over Ollie Stewart would the spark to the very dry kindling of his father’s temper.
Which is why he lied.
To get out of an argument. To get to CeCe faster.
Only, he didn’t know until years later how much that little white lie would impact his life.
Eighteen
Cecilia, present day
* * *
“What are you doing here, Colin?” Cecilia asked.
He’d closed the door to the sauna and sat back down next to her, naked except for a small hand towel tossed haphazardly over his . . .
Penis, Cecilia Thiele, her mind shouted. It’s his penis and it’s giant and glorious and you want to lick it like a lollipop!
She tore her eyes up and focused on his face, but then got sidetracked by the little scar above his lip and then by his lips themselves. They were yummy and lush and just so flipping kissable. Seriously, the world wasn’t fair. What kind of universe gave a man a mouth like that?
And then he had to go and talk.
To be sweet and keep his words both simple and heart-wrenching.
“Because, sweetheart, I couldn’t stay away.”
“Dammit,” she muttered, glancing up at the ceiling, studying the single bulb hanging from the paneled wood. Condensation had gathered on the glass, and the drops sparkled as the light shone through.
The effect was beautiful, even though it was slightly blurry through the lens of her tears.
It was just that he sounded so genuine, and she wanted nothing more than to believe that he wanted her. But how could she?
But . . . maybe he did?
No. People didn’t change, not truly, not deep down, and he might wan
t her now, but that would inevitably change and then he would push her away and she would end up broken all over again.
She couldn’t end up broken again.
“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do this, Colin. I can’t hurt this much and have all this regret and pain and angst. My life is supposed to finally be about me. I need to find out who I am without my job and the remains of our relationship hanging over me. Without my parents’ disappointment weighing me down. I need to—”
“I understand.” He took her hand in his. “I get not knowing who you are and your world imploding. I understand that you were hurt and I’m sorry that—”
Sweat trickled down between her breasts when she shot to her feet. “No, you don’t understand because you weren’t the one left shattered. You weren’t the one who was devastated when all you’d hoped for a future was fucking gone.”
He stood and cracked the door, reaching for a robe and handing it to her then repeating the process for himself.
When they were both covered, he touched her cheek. “You weren’t the only one devastated, CeCe. My father was dead, the business was one wrong decision away from collapse, and you were gone.” His voice tightened. “You can’t say I was unaffected because I was. My life was fucking broken too.”
Her breath caught as the truth of his words hit home. “I-I’m sorry.”
Silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Colin’s blue eyes were filled with emotion and longing, and she felt an answering yearning rise within her.
She wanted those easy times. The hikes on the cliffs, the rides on his horse, the kissing and . . . more.
If only they could go back.
If only they could forget the past.
But life wasn’t that easy. Or at least hers wasn’t. She couldn’t just put the pain aside and pretend it hadn’t happened. She ached and burned and hurt. But maybe . . .