"I don't know," she said as he pressed his fingers to the man's neck. "I don't know what happened. Everything was fine, we'd just gotten our soup when this man yelled and clutched his chest. Then he collapsed. Others—" she looked around the room "—started vomiting almost immediately after."
Rhys looked grim before finally removing his hand and leaning forward, smelling around the man's mouth. "Bitter almonds," he said, spitting out the words as if they were the most offensive food items ever.
"What does it mean?"
He glanced down at the spilled food items. Crusty, hot rolls, soup, and a hunk of prime beef. "Poison."
She swallowed hard, still clutching the man. It was as she'd thought. "Could it be an accident?"
"No. This is cyanide."
She gasped. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. There's no mistaking it. We just need to figure out which food item they all had in common." He stood and strode to the other ill people, checking on them and then assessing their meal choices.
He came back quickly, and she set the man off to the side. Rhys grabbed her hand and yanked her up, his hands flying up and down over her arms as if checking for injury. He looked frantic. "Are you sick?"
"What? No. I didn't eat anything."
He gripped her arms. "Are you sure? Not even a drop?"
"No. We'd received our soup, but there weren't any proper spoons, and then this man collapsed before the waiter came back."
He closed his eyes, and pulled her in against him, holding her tight for a minute before releasing her. "Abby didn't eat, either?"
"No. What's going on, Rhys?"
"They all ordered different entrees…but started with beef soup."
Willow's stomach dropped. "Soup…"
He nodded seriously. "I saw two cups at your table and thought the worst. If those spoons hadn't been missing…"
He didn't finish, and he didn't need to.
Willow raised a hand to her throat as she looked around at the sick people. The doctor raced in then, and Rhys flagged him down to attend to the unconscious man first. He was the worst off, by far. The others had vomited and looked exhausted, but they were still able to move around on their own.
"Go be with Abby," he said softly in her ear.
It wasn't a command. She could hear the tenderness in his voice. He was urging her, not wanting her around, seeing this horror, if he could help it.
She thought about protesting, but then caught sight of a pale-faced Abby, who hovered in the doorway. She finally nodded to Rhys, and he looked relieved before she left.
She walked slowly over to Abby.
"It was in the soup, wasn't it?" Abby asked.
Willow wasn't sure it was best to confirm such a thing, but Willow would have wanted to hear the truth if she were in Abby's position. So instead of lying or downplaying what had happened, she said, "Yes. The beef soup."
Abby's tormented eyes met Willow's. "That could have been us. If we'd had spoons, or decided to use something else, we would be sick."
"It's best not to dwell on that," Willow said softly. "We didn't eat it. We're perfectly fine."
"But those people did. And if one of them dies…"
"No one is dying. The doctor is here, and he's going to make sure everyone is taken care of. Rhys already knows what kind of poison it is, and the fact that no one is dead already shows us it was a low dose. People will be sick, but after some rest, they'll recover."
Abby still didn't look convinced. She shivered, but her eyes never left the scene.
Willow placed her hands on Abby's shoulders and moved in front of her view. "Come on. Rhys and the doctor have everything in hand. Why don't we go lie down for a bit?" She thought of suggesting they continue their search, but Willow had no desire to do such a thing, and she didn't think Abby was physically capable of it at the moment, anyway.
Still, when Abby nodded her agreement, Willow was surprised. Abby was gently bred, but she also had a backbone of steel. She'd been hardy ever since Willow had met her, but this was affecting her. "Why don't I walk you to an empty room? You can lie down and have a rest."
"Will you rest, too?"
Willow's knee-jerk answer was no. But the truth was, she was exhausted. They'd spent so much energy searching, and now with the poisoning, the trauma had sucked the last of her reserves. She nodded. "Yes, I'll lie down, too."
With a final nod, Willow wove her arm through Abby's and led her out. She glanced over her shoulder just to make sure everything was being taken care of, and met Rhys' eyes.
Her heart fluttered at the intent stare, but he finally nodded at her, as if thanking her for taking care of Abby. She nodded back and forced her gaze away.
No matter how Rhys made her feel, now wasn't the time to dwell on it. It might not ever be the right time.
Chapter 8
When Rhys' assistant, Peter, informed him Willow was in the library the next morning, continuing her search alone, he couldn't stop himself from going to her. Ridiculously, he felt like a youth opening the library door, both excited and nervous to see her. She'd occupied most of his thoughts. Especially after the scare yesterday.
He opened the door, and she glanced up from the floor while replacing a book.
He leaned in the doorway, waiting for an invitation inside, even though it was his hotel. "Hello."
She offered him a warm smile. "Hi. Come in."
He left the door open a crack before moving toward her. "I heard you were back. Where's Abby?"
"I advised her to rest for today. She was so upset with what happened yesterday, she didn't sleep much. She only ended up agreeing to it if I promised to continue our search. Thank you again for letting us stay the night."
"Of course. In truth, I wanted you both close. After what happened, I needed to be sure you were safe." When she stilled, as if uncertain how to respond, he asked, "Are you planning to search in here the rest of the day?"
"Yes." She relaxed at the change of topic and her face took on a guilty flush. "And your office, if that's all right."
His office was normally a place he didn't allow people to invade—even housekeeping—but for some reason, he couldn't deny her. "Absolutely. Let me know when you want to get in."
She dusted off her hands. "How about now, if you have time?"
He was surprised, but agreed. "Of course." He held out his hands to help her up, and she glanced at them, then his face, and then back at his hands as if debating, before placing her hands in his.
Her palms were callused in places, attesting to a life of work, but he only found her warm skin appealing. He wrapped his fingers around them and pulled gently, lifting her off the floor.
She rose quickly, then stumbled slightly before righting herself. Color crested her cheeks. "Thank you."
He nodded, not wanting her to be uncomfortable.
She finally sighed and looked him in the eye. "I probably shouldn't admit this, but you make me uneasy."
He leaned back. "I do? It was never my intention." He was somewhat appalled to hear that.
She waved him away. "I don't mean like that. It's just…well…" she floundered a moment. "I'm attracted to you. I'm sure that's no surprise. It's hard fighting it, and whenever I'm around you, especially alone, it's difficult."
He knew he should say something glib, joke about it to ease the tension surrounding them, but he couldn't. "Willow…you're testing me," he grated. The desire swamping over him made it difficult to think rationally.
Her eyes widened slightly. "I'm not trying to. I'm trying to be honest, trying to be upfront so I can manage it better. Everything I said the other night is still true. This can't go anywhere, and it's best not to get tangled up."
She was right. He knew it. But that didn't lessen how he felt. "I know, but I feel like if I don't kiss you right now, I'll explode. This feeling you have, the same one I feel, doesn't seem to be going away."
She pressed her lips together. "It's only growing," she admitted softly. "I thought if I ignored it, it wou
ld leave."
"I don't think that's going to happen. After last night, especially. The thought of you hurt…" his eyes went dark.
"What should we do? Should I stay away from the hotel?"
It was the last thing he wanted. He shook his head. "Abby will come here, and she'll wonder why you suddenly don't want to be here. Besides, I don't think it will make a difference." And for him, it wouldn't. It hadn't mattered if he was with Willow or not. She always seemed to be on his mind.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, caressing the shell of it softly. "Let me kiss you. I don't want to go another moment without knowing what it would be like."
She closed her eyes and moaned softly at his words. He could tell she wanted the kiss as much as he did, but he wouldn't take away her choice. He could overwhelm her, claiming everything he wanted, but that was selfish. He cared too much for her to do that.
Instead, he waited. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Until she opened her desire-glazed eyes. "Rhys…"
"You have to say the words," he said.
She bit her lip, debating her desire. He leaned forward slightly, as if willing her to say yes, willing her to tell him she wanted him. His grip on her remained loose, though, refusing to sway her.
She finally returned his gaze again and nodded. "Kiss me, Rhys. I want to know, too."
Relief gushed through him, and he swept her fully in his arms, his breaths coming out in pants as he grappled for control. He wanted to hold her gently, slowly take her lips to show her he valued her, that he cherished her, but he couldn't. Every ounce of willpower he had was decimated by the thick, hot need coursing through him.
She gasped in surprise as the fronts of their bodies met. He shook at the feel of her, all curves and softness to his hardened frame. He wanted to get closer to her, have nothing between them so he could explore her more fully, feel her velvety skin against his.
He blew out a long breath, hoping it would calm him, give him some semblance of control.
"Rhys?" Willow's voice held a trembling note at the end, as if she were uncertain what was happening.
A soft laugh escaped him at how ridiculous he was being. He was a fully-grown man, but all control had fled at having Willow in his arms.
He touched his forehead to hers. "It's okay. I just needed an extra minute. Being with you isn't like anything I've experienced before."
Tension left her frame, and she grinned, lazily wrapping her arms around his neck. "And just think, we haven't even kissed yet," she said, a moment before brushing her lips against his.
Lightning shot through him. Scorching, blinding, life-changing. As if a switch had been flipped, he took control, bringing his hands up to cup her jaw. He angled her head and ran his thumbs along soft skin, coaxing her to open to him. And she did.
He took the kiss deeper. Relishing her taste, her scent, her sounds, discovering secret after secret.
Kissing Willow was a revelation, one he never wanted to forget.
He started pulling away, refusing to push past what she was willing to give, when her arms held him tight, tugging him back to her.
All good intensions fled. Delving back in, he walked her backwards, pushing her into the bookcase behind them. Books bounced off the shelf, but neither of them paid any attention. They were too focused on each other, on what they were making the other feel, to care about the mess they were making.
If he thought Willow would acquiesce to anything, he'd been wrong. She was a partner in this. Giving as much as she was taking. She might not have much experience, but after the first awkward meeting of lips, he would've never known.
When he was certain he was about to lose all control, he ripped his mouth from hers, trailing kisses down her throat, nipping when he found a particular spot she liked.
The smell of her, lavender and sunshine, was more concentrated where her neck met her shoulder, and he laved at the soft skin until he was sure he could taste it.
"Rhys." She moaned, her head tilting back to give him more access, and he took advantage of it, kissing every inch he could around the opening of her dress.
When his hands itched to rove over every part of her, he clenched them at his sides and took a large step in retreat, groaning at the sight of her up against the bookshelf, her skin flushed and abraded where he'd given it attention.
Her lips were bee-stung and rosy, and when her eyes fluttered open, he could see the same emotions that were echoing inside him. All he wanted to do was pull her back in his arms.
"That was…" She trailed off, looking as though her brain wasn't functioning as it should.
"Incredible," he supplied. "Unlike anything I've ever experienced."
For a moment, he wondered if she would believe him. It seemed like something a man would say after sharing such an intimacy, but he truly meant it. He'd never felt that way with anyone before, and he was wise enough to realize he never would again.
She gave him a slow, soft smile, until finally clearing her throat and reaching for her hair. He bit back a smile. "You might need to touch it up a bit."
Her hand patted the lopsided chignon. "Are you sure?" she teased. "I might start a new fashion trend."
If she did, it was one Rhys could support. A rosy, well-kissed Willow was the most attractive thing he'd seen in his life. "You never know. It could catch on."
She snorted and pushed away from the bookshelf, looking down at the books which had rained down on them. "We've made a mess."
He followed her gaze, but couldn't summon any remorse. It had been worth every second. "I can have someone clean it up," he offered.
"And have them realize what we did? No thank you."
He smothered his grin. "I can tell them I did it in a fit of rage."
"Rage, huh?" she said dryly. "Is that what passion is called now?"
"Okay, a fit of madness."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "It's all right. I can look through all of them as I'm cleaning up."
He knew he should leave so she could continue her search, but he didn't want to. Instead of doing what he wanted, he said, "Good luck hunting today. I'll have a tray brought to you, if you'd like. The chef made a chocolate pastry I think you'll love."
She licked her lips, and his gut clenched. "That would be appreciated. Thank you."
He said goodbye and went to the door, knowing if he stayed a moment longer, he'd take her back into his arms.
Unfortunately, it seemed he was becoming addicted to Willow. And he couldn't stop himself, either.
Chapter 9
After looking through every inch of the library yesterday, Willow had to finally accept defeat. They had the one clue, but they hadn't been able to make sense of it one way or another. They were at a dead end.
Rhys had given them leave to search his office, but Willow very much doubted the treasure would be in there. As far as she could tell, the office had been the hotel owner's personal space, barred from other people. Especially guests. But it never hurt to look.
"I'm feeling good about this," Abby said, as they made their way to Rhys' private domain.
They'd stayed an additional night at the hotel, and she was grateful Jared had been willing to return to the house and have Sylvia pack them a bag. It had made their stay more comfortable, but Willow was surprised she enjoyed the hotel more than her own home. It wasn't the luxurious atmosphere Rhys was imbuing the place with, although that was awfully pleasant. No, she liked the fact that there were so many people around.
It was something she missed, now that the other brides were married and had moved out. Even before Juliette had left, it had been too quiet. Willow liked noise and action. She liked knowing something was always going on, thrived on the hustle and bustle at the hotel.
But this wasn't her home, and she needed to keep herself from getting used to it. If Abby wanted to stay, though, Willow would support her, even if it gave her brother an edge in convincing her to return home.
"I do, too," Willow fi
nally said, in reply to Abby. "I hope we find something that points us in the right direction. We're running out of time."
Abby looked up at her. "We don't have to return back to the house, you know. Rhys said we could stay as long as we wanted."
"While I appreciate your brother's hospitality, I can't stay. I have a perfectly good home to live in. Besides, there isn't enough space here for my designs, materials, and business. I've been able to put off everything the last few days, but I have another round of fittings coming up, and I'll need more space for my supplies."
Abby nodded. "I understand. I'll let Rhys know we'll be heading back to the house tonight."
"Thank you." Willow was grateful, truly. But she didn't feel happy about it, for some reason. While it made sense to go, she didn't want to leave.
"Of course. It is all completely understandable. And you're right. It's time to get back to real life."
Willow didn't want to point out that this could be Abby's real life again. She'd grown up in this atmosphere, grown up in privilege. While Willow knew money wasn't everything, it sure helped with a lot of things. "By the way, has Rhys talked to you about your inheritance?"
"Yes!" She stopped, turned, and grabbed Willow's arm. "Yes. I forgot to tell you." She practically lit with excitement, and Willow already guessed what Rhys had said. "He told me while he didn't approve of me staying, and he thinks I should go home with him today—" she rolled her eyes "—he said he wouldn't deny me what was rightfully mine just because I'm doing something he doesn't approve of. He clearly thinks my decision to stay is wrong, but it doesn't matter. The point is, I'm not cut off!"
Willow sighed in a large gust of relief. "That's fantastic news. I'm so glad your brother is being reasonable about this, now." At first, Willow hadn't been sure Rhys would ever see eye-to-eye with either of them on this point, but Willow was grateful he was turning a corner on the subject.
Abby chuckled. "I don't know if reasonable is the right word. He is still convinced this isn't best for me, and is planning to stay until I change my mind."
"How very…"
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