Match Made In Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  “I’ve never figured it out.” Her voice was huskier than she intended, more intimate as desire sizzled to life within her.

  “They should be tracked down and arrested.”

  “That’s not how the internet works.”

  Their gazes locked, his sky-blue eyes simmering with compassion.

  She’d expected sharing a villa with Silas to be tough. The minute they’d agreed to stay, she’d known she’d have to fight her attraction to him. But she’d steeled herself against raw desire. She hadn’t thought to mount a defense against his kindness. And that mistake let him slip right through.

  “I thought you were delicate,” he said in his deep, husky voice, drawing her to her feet so they were facing each other. He gazed a moment longer then brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Weak and pampered.” He gave a ghost of a laugh. “But I was wrong about that. You’re much tougher than you look.”

  Mia didn’t feel tough. She felt soft as the pastry cream, her knees weak with longing to lean into his strength.

  He read her mind and drew her close. One arm around her waist, the other enfolding her shoulders, a hug that was gentle, like he didn’t want to break her. Their hearts beat together while he pressed her chest, hips and thighs to his own.

  Their heat triggered her desire. She tilted her chin, looking for the kiss she knew was coming. It had to be coming.

  And there it was, gentle, sweet and searching. His lips parted against hers, they firmed, delving deeper, drawing a moan from far within her.

  In slow motions, she wound her arms around his neck, swept up once again by the power of their passion. It invaded her, engulfed her, demanded to be recognized and answered.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “Exquisite.” He kissed her hair, the shell of her ear, the curve of her neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure skittering over her skin.

  “Silas.” She sighed. She couldn’t be more specific than his name, his wonderful name, his amazing lips, his talented hands.

  He touched his forehead to hers, his breathing deep. “I can’t keep fighting this.”

  She didn’t want him to fight. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted to keep going and going and going.

  “Please don’t fight.” She took the initiative and kissed his lips. Then she molded her curves to his planes and angles, giving herself up to the moment.

  He lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom he’d taken, the one with the bay window facing the thick forest that filtered the evening light, two armchairs bracketing the fireplace, and a plump, pillow-covered king-sized bed.

  He set her bare feet on a plush rug.

  “I do love this dress,” he said, kissing her bare shoulder around the drop sleeve.

  “This tie’s okay,” she responded with an impish smile as she tugged the knot free. Then she dropped the tie to the floor.

  “Your hair . . .” he said, reaching behind her head and feeling the messy upsweep.

  “Don’t like it?” she asked.

  “Better down.”

  She reached back to help him with the fastener, pulling it free, letting her hair fall around her shoulders.

  “Sexy,” he said, rubbing the ends between his fingertips.

  “Not crazy about this shirt,” she said, popping the top two buttons.

  “The shirt’s definitely got to go,” he agreed, leaning into her neck and distracting her with another kiss.

  She tipped her head to give him better access, letting the eroticism of his hot lips shimmer through her body.

  He took over unbuttoning his shirt then stripped it off and tossed it to the floor.

  “I’ve changed my mind about the dress,” he said.

  She gave a mock pout. “You don’t like it?”

  His kissed her lips, hard and long and deep. “It’ll look better on the floor.” He found the back zipper and dispatched the dress, leaving her standing in a pair of white lace panties.

  “Those,” he said, gazing down and pulling back a little. “Those, I love.”

  “They’re from the Polar Collection.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  She grinned. “I swear it’s true.”

  “Well, welcome to the north.” He smoothed his hands slowly over the silk and lace.

  His smile disappeared, and he eased her close, skin to skin, chest to chest, desire and passion and pleasure arcing between them. He cradled her face and kissed her mouth again and again and again, all playfulness gone.

  He kicked off his pants, and they fell to the bed, drawing together in slow motion, their limbs entwined as they shared kiss for kiss, caress for caress, cocooned in pleasure and surrounded by the wilds of the forest.

  Afterward, Mia was floating. She knew she was still locked to the planet, but her spirit was on a different plane of existence. Sex had never been like that for her. It had never taken her to the clouds and back again. She’d never felt like another person, her life divided between before and after—before Silas and after Silas.

  She was afraid to look at him now, afraid he didn’t feel the same way, even more afraid he could tell how massively he’d rocked her world and would be amused by that.

  They were both lying on their backs on the impossibly soft mattress, fan blades moving in slow motion above them beneath the red-hued cedar beams of the ceiling.

  After a few minutes, he turned toward her and propped himself on his elbow. He brushed her hair from her cheek, his voice was low husky. “You good?”

  She nodded, even though good didn’t begin to describe it.

  “You are—”

  She waited, a coil of tension forming in the pit of her stomach.

  “Amazing,” he said. “But I think I said that already. I was trying for something more profound.”

  She chuckled a little, mostly at herself.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

  He inched a bit closer. “What did you think I was going to say?”

  She shrugged.

  “Come on, give.”

  She turned to face him, mirroring his posture, her head on her own elbow. “I thought you were going to laugh at me.”

  He looked genuinely shocked. “Why would I do that?”

  “I was . . . a little . . .” She flopped onto her back again to avoid looking at him. “Enthusiastic.”

  He shifted closer. After a minute, he walked his fingertips from her navel to a spot between her breasts. “You thought I’d find enthusiasm funny?”

  She nodded.

  He laid his hand flat, his forearm resting along the indent of her stomach. “Mia, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  She checked out his expression. “You’re laughing at me now.”

  “I’m smiling at you. You’re delightful.”

  She felt an urge to bop him with a pillow, but they’d all been scattered to the floor.

  “Thanks a lot,” she deadpanned instead.

  “I’m laughing at the idea that lovemaking enthusiasm could be a negative.”

  “I didn’t say it was negative.”

  “Then what did you say?”

  “I thought . . . I was afraid, that I was having more fun than you were.”

  He did laugh then, and he pulled her close, rolling over so that she was on top of him. “That,” he growled in her ear, “is absolutely impossible. There are no levels of fun above what just happened to me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not just being nice?”

  “I am not just being nice. Want me to prove it to you?”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “How would you do that? You got a fun-o-meter strapped to your wrist or some
thing?”

  “No, but that’s a very interesting idea. Look into my eyes.”

  She did. He had beautiful eyes. They were dusky blue in the filtered daylight, wide-set, and surrounded by thick lashes.

  “What do you see?” he asked softly.

  It was her turn to smooth his short hair from his forehead. “You have beautiful eyes.”

  “Satisfaction,” he said. “You see satisfaction.”

  He was right. She did. She laid her head back down on his chest.

  “How long will you stay?” he asked.

  “Here? In bed?” She wanted to stay. She wanted to curl up in his arms and stay here all night long.

  “In Alaska,” he said.

  “Oh. That.” She squelched her disappointment, slipping off to the side. She would have moved away, but he held her fast against him. “The preliminary court date is three weeks from now.”

  “You have to go back for it?”

  “I do. Marnie, my lawyer, is optimistic that Henry and Hannah will lose.”

  “It sounds like they will.”

  “So, you read that part of the story?” Mia hadn’t gone into details about the court case itself.

  “Some of the guys were talking the other day over dinner. They said—” He kissed the top of her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She could fill in the blanks. “Oh, how I love being a scandal.”

  He gently nudged her. “You’re a whole lot more than a scandal.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how to take that.” But she was joking and relaxed against him, crooking her knee onto his thigh.

  He smoothed her hair. “What will you do once you win?”

  “Figure out who’s loyal.” She hated the thought of undertaking a witch-hunt, but she couldn’t run a company where people were secretly plotting against her.

  “What about the threats?”

  She was hoping they’d calm down once the estate was settled. According to Marnie, a few signs were pointing that way already, and surely having the law on her side would count for something.

  “I hope the trolls will find something else to do. I might have to sell the house, move to a secret location.”

  “Would you do that?”

  “Yes.” She might think about it, anyway. “I don’t need a house that big. I could buy a condo near the office; less upkeep. And I don’t need a staff of seven.”

  “You have a staff of seven?”

  “The house is big, and the gardens take a lot of maintenance. And there’s the cooking and the cleaning, especially when we entertained. I shared Alastair’s event manager.”

  “That must have been a sacrifice.”

  She pressed her elbow into his ribs. “Don’t mock me.”

  “You have a staff of seven, how can I not mock you?”

  “They’re not here.”

  “Well, thank goodness for that.” He nuzzled her neck. “I don’t need help.”

  She smiled warmly at his joke.

  “There’s a very roomy shower in the ensuite,” he said, his kisses meandering.

  “Yeah?” The idea sounded interesting.

  “Multiple nozzles, scented soaps, loads of hot water. You in?”

  She was definitely in.

  Chapter Ten

  Silas accepted the morning delivery of coffee and waffles with all the trimmings. It was the least Cornelia could do. He tipped the waiter, closed the door behind the man and went first for the coffee urn and a white stoneware mug.

  He intended to bring Mia a cup in bed, but she appeared in the doorway wrapped in a white fluffy robe. He knew it was her job to look gorgeous, but she still took his breath away. Her blond hair was prettily mussed, framing her face. Her cheeks were pink, lips red, eyes sparkling blue. You could snap a photo right here and now and put her straight on a magazine cover.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Yum.” She gave him a wide smile as she came forward.

  “Anything in it?”

  “Just coffee.” Their fingertips touched as he handed her the mug.

  “Morning,” she said, taking her time in drawing back her hands.

  “Morning,” he answered. He couldn’t resist her mouth, so he gave her a gentle kiss.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For a kiss?” He’d be happy to give her another. If they’d had time, he’d have been happy to give her a whole lot more than that.

  “For the best night of my life.”

  Silas was stunned by the compliment. Last night had been spectacular for him too, off the charts amazing, and . . . well . . . yeah, he supposed it was probably the best night of his life.

  “You are one sexy man,” she said, running her fingertips down his chest. “Buff, fit, handsome and . . . well, you know.”

  “Say it anyway,” he teased, liking her mood a whole lot.

  “You first.”

  “Sure. You rocked my world.”

  “I, Captain Burke, was also rocked.” She took a sip of her coffee. “And now I’m hungry.”

  “We have waffles,” he said, moving to pour himself a cup of the fragrant coffee.

  “Excellent. I didn’t do many carbs before I came to Alaska. But now I’m a fan.”

  “Waffles have carbs?”

  She curled into one of the dining chairs. “Waffles are pure carbs.”

  “Then I like carbs too.” He set his coffee down and moved a big covered platter from the trolley to the center of the dining table.

  Mia lifted off the cover to reveal half a dozen waffles, bacon, sausages and scrambled eggs while Silas set out their plates and napkin-wrapped utensils.

  Orange juice, berries and whipped cream completed the meal.

  She speared a waffle and spooned on some berries. “I seem to burn off more calories here.”

  He took two waffles and added a side of bacon. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never counted a calorie.”

  “I hate you, you know that.”

  He grinned at her. “I could tell.”

  “I guess when you’ve lived the outdoorsy lifestyle in Alaska and Colorado, it’s easier to stay active.”

  “Are you saying I’m lucky to get my exercise naturally?” He went for both the berries and the whipped cream.

  “I am. I wish there were more naturally fun ways to stay fit, instead of schlepping myself to the gym all the time. How long have you lived in Alaska?”

  “Five years.”

  “Where’d you grow up?”

  “At the base of Mount Mettridge, outside Salsa Springs.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Neither has anyone else. I met Brodie when we both took a mountain flying course in the Rockies. At the end of it, he offered me a job.”

  “Did you hesitate, moving so far away?”

  “I liked bush flying.” Silas took a sip of his coffee. “As you can imagine, there wasn’t much to leave behind in Salsa Springs.”

  “Your family?”

  “Mom left when I was a kid. Dad, well, he eventually stopped caring about much beyond his next bottle of whiskey. He died a couple of years ago.”

  There was understanding in Mia’s eyes. “Where was your mom?”

  “I don’t know. Salsa Springs wasn’t her idea of a happening place, and my dad wasn’t enough to keep her there.”

  The understanding in Mia’s eyes turned to compassion.

  But Silas wasn’t looking for pity. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what? That’s a sad story.”

  He wasn’t going to let his history change the mood. “It was a long time ago, and it has a happy ending.”

  “It does?”

  “Yes. Last night was the best night of my life.”

  She smiled at that, and his
chest tightened in reaction.

  “Plus these,” she said, taking a slow bite of her waffle.

  “You don’t want to try the bacon?” He made a show of taking a bite of it and looking rapturously satisfied.

  “You’re the devil.”

  “Are there carbs in bacon too?”

  “Not really; a little in the sugar cure, but they’re mostly fat.”

  “Fat is bad?” He took another unrepentant bite.

  “Not as bad as carbs.” With a glint in her eyes she took a bite of waffle and berries.

  “You have a perfect body, you know that?” he asked. If anyone could afford an extra carb or two it was Mia.

  “I work pretty hard at it.”

  He was afraid he’d insulted her. “I didn’t mean you—”

  “It’s part of the job.” She didn’t look offended. “But I’m thinking of giving it up.”

  “Giving up the perfect body?” It was totally up to her, of course.

  “Modeling.”

  “Really?” He thought she was at the top of her game. It seemed like a very strange time to give up her career.

  “Lafayette is going to take more of my attention now. Alastair did a lot of the work. I mean, I was there with him all the time. He took my advice and he shared all the details, even if people in the office didn’t understand that. I’ve been a senior adviser in the company for years now, along with being a model.”

  “You’ve had enough of modeling?” Silas guessed it wasn’t for everyone.

  It looked glamorous. But being a jumbo-jet pilot on international flights looked glamorous too. That had never been his dream. He liked the challenges of small planes, VFR rules, short strips and rugged terrain.

  “Management is a lot of planning and strategizing, what’s the mood of the consumer, the next color palette, which shoe designer will be impactful, how you build a relationship with retailers.”

  “I can see you’d be good at those things.”

  Her princess vibe had to be an asset in that world. Glitz and glamour were where she belonged, high-end hotels and star-studded parties.

  It made him sad for a second, but then he stopped himself. Mia might be fleeting in his life, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t enjoy this moment.

  She ate only half her waffle, making him think she wasn’t as cavalier about carbs as she pretended. He ate two, plus bacon and everything else. Then, much as he’d have loved to stay longer, they packed up their new clothes.