There on the shelf positioned at eye level with nothing else around it was a huge bowl of giant strawberries and two cans of squirty whipped topping. Sadie slammed the door shut, backing away with one hand clasped over her mouth to keep her misery from coming out in a long, mournful howl. What the hell was going on? Her favorite flowers. The same champagne she and Alec had shared, down to the freakin’ year it was bottled. And now strawberries. And canned whipped topping. The first items written into their erotic menu choices.
“Girl, what is wrong with you? You look like somebody stuffed a body in there.” Miss Martha hurried around Sadie and yanked open the refrigerator. “There’s all kinds of food in here. I don’t see anything gross. What’s got you all upset?”
“Strawberries,” Sadie choked out. “I…hate strawberries.” She spotted one of her suitcases inside a partially open door leading into a bedroom. “I’m going to bed. I’m too tired to eat.”
Without risking another word, Sadie shot across the suite into the room, closed the door, and leaned back against it. She stared up at the ceiling, biting her lip to remain silent as hot tears streamed down her face. She’d been such a fool, thinking the trip to New York would get her mind off Alec. She should’ve known it was futile. Sheer stupidity. She’d never be free of her feelings for Alec as long as she lived.
Chapter 30
Alec slid lower in the seat, watching Jarvis help Sadie and Miss Martha emerge from the limo parked beside the sidewalk. He held his breath when Sadie glanced in his direction. Even though the car’s windows were darkly tinted and he knew he couldn’t be seen, age-old hunting instincts were hard to overcome. “Where is he taking them now?” he murmured in a hushed tone without twitching so much as an eyelash.
Dwyn glanced down at his watch and made a face as though struggling to search his memory. “The spa—no, no. The library. Or hair salon. Maybe. Hell’s bells, I dinna remember which. We scheduled the woman at nearly every place in the city that might possibly provide her with a bit of pleasure.”
Jarvis and the two women hurried a few feet down the busy sidewalk, hugging their coats tight about their throats and cringing against the bite of the cold, windy day. Alec scooted back upright into a more natural position. “Esme outdid herself, she did.”
“Aye,” Dwyn agreed. “And if ye return home without Sadie, ye’ll have hell t’pay with that one, ye will. That wee lass worried the livin’ daylights out of me, what with all her blasted internet searches of New York City and where Sadie might like to go.”
“Sadie needs every last bit of the pamperin’ my little sister has planned.” Alec watched Jarvis hold open a door for the ladies. He read the fancy lettering on the door. Ahh…the spa. “Did ye see the dark circles ’neath her eyes? She doesna look well at all.”
“Mistress Martha says she cries every night.” Dwyn scowled as he propped his arms atop the steering wheel and stared out the windshield.
“Then why the hell could I no’ go talk to her in Brady and end this foolish sufferin’ for us both? Why the blazes did she avoid me like I carried the plague?” That was one thing he never understood. Sadie refused to speak with him—wouldn’t even stay in the same building if she thought he was in one of the rooms. All he needed was a long enough moment of her time to convince her that none of what happened was her fault and the only way she’d find one person in the entire world who blamed her would be if she looked in the mirror. He grabbed the latch of the door and popped it open.
Dwyn stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Nay. Ye’ll not toss all aside and thwart this grand plan we’ve put into play.” He nodded toward the partially ajar car door. “Pull the door to and lock it, fool. We’re easy targets sitting here in the street.”
Alec slammed the door shut and clicked the lock. “Then explain this to me—why?” He clamped his arms across his chest, fighting the urge to tell Dwyn to head straight to hell, then stomp his way into that damnable spa and find Sadie. He ached for her. Body and soul. He needed the feel of her, the sound of her laugh. He needed the very scent of her just as badly as he needed air to breathe.
“For one thing,” Dwyn started with an impatient growl, “ye’d ne’er get the woman t’stop dodgin’ ye long enough t’hear what ye had t’say. Ye told me yerself that whene’er something has her upset, she pretends it doesna exist and changes the subject rather than facing it.” He shook his head, scowling at the closed door of the spa. “Ne’er in all the history that I’ve walked among humans have I e’er seen a female as hard-headed about shoulderin’ blame and stickin’ her head in the sand as yer woman.”
He turned to Alec, shaking a finger as he spoke. “And even if ye had managed t’convince her t’wed ye, she’d e’er be filled with doubts. Mistress Martha told me she overheard Sadie tell Harold that she knew in her heart that ye hated her for destroyin’ the Heartstone and doomin’ the world to certain darkness.”
“But the stone is safe,” Alec argued. “The chamber and the tunnels withstood the blast well. She saw us with the weapons that day. How does she think we managed to retrieve them?”
Dwyn shook his head and shrugged. “I dinna ken. All I ken for certain is what Mistress Martha said she overheard Sadie tell that infernal cat.”
“Then what the devil makes ye so certain this plan will work?” Alec’s hope sank like a rock, desperation taking its place.
“When she sees what lengths ye’d take to help her achieve her dreams, she’ll ken for certain how much ye really love her and wish her to come back. She’ll also see ye dinna hate her—nor blame her for the actions of her idiot sister. And when my agency presents the deal they’ve obtained for her, she’ll also ken for certain that she’s no’ the only one who enjoys her writing.” Dwyn shook his finger faster. “There’ll be no doubts in her mind about anythin’.”
Alec blew out a strained breath, hoping like hell Dwyn was right. He jerked his chin in the general direction of the spa. “What sort of things do they do in there? Esme didna say.”
“Smear strange-colored mud on their faces and put sliced vegetables on their eyes.”
“Ye lie.”
“The hell I do.” Dwyn fished his phone out of his pocket, tapped on the screen a few times, then shoved it under Alec’s nose. “What does that picture look like t’ye?”
A smiling woman—Alec supposed ’twas a woman—wore a thick white robe and was lying back in a chair with a towel wrapped about her head. Her face was covered with greenish-brown muck that looked like horse shit he’d scrape off his boots. And damned if she didna have a thick slice of a cucumber covering each of her eyes.
Alec looked up from the picture. “Why?”
Dwyn held up his hands and made a hell if I know face as though to claim no responsibility whatsoever for the strange customs invented by humans.
Scrolling down the screen, Alec stopped and stared at another picture a few pages down. “This woman’s no’ wearin’ a stitch a clothes.” He shoved the phone into Dwyn’s hands. “Look at that. There’s naught coverin’ her but a towel across her arse and that man has his hands upon her.”
Dwyn studied the picture, his brows knotted together. “Esme said that’s a deep-tissue massage.” He went to hand the phone back to Alec. “We’ve arranged for Sadie t’have one of those as well. Esme said they’re verra good for stress.”
“Like hell she is!” Alec felt a slow burn kindle in his gut. “I’ll no’ have another man touchin’ my woman.” He pushed the phone back to Dwyn. “Ye call that place this verra minute and tell them she’s no’ t’have that done.”
“She may already be havin’ it done. ’Tis well past two.”
“Then I’ll end this m’self.” Alec grabbed the door handle to exit the car, quickly releasing it when Dwyn grabbed hold of his shirt and yanked him back. He whirled around, one hand knotting into a fist. “What the hell are ye doin’?”
“Ye ken damn well ye canna go inside. Sadie will see ye and this will all be for naught. Everything wil
l be ruined.” Dwyn’s face suddenly brightened and he shook his phone at Alec. The demigod smiled like a man who’d just been told he’d won the lottery. “I’ve an idea and if it works, I believe ye’ll like it.”
It had better be a damn good idea or Seven Serenities Spa was about to be introduced to the MacDara battle cry. Alec jerked his chin down with a stiff nod, bending the handle of the car door in his crushing grip.
Dwyn tapped on the screen of the phone, then placed it to his ear, his eyes narrowing as he waited for someone to answer. “Yes—this is Dwyn MacKay. Yes, I’m the owner of the agency who booked your entire facility for this afternoon.” A knowing grin spread across his face. “Aye. That would be me and I’ve called t’ask a favor of ye. The CEO of my agency wishes t’surprise his future wife and is countin’ on ye t’help him.”
Alec released the door handle and straightened in the seat. Dwyn’s idea sounded promising already.
Chapter 31
“This is so romantic,” the massage therapist said. The buxom blonde was nearly as tall as Alec and her shoulders were almost as broad. The large but by no means unattractive woman reminded him of the muscular, battle-honed wives of the rampaging men of the North. She excitedly patted her hands together, bouncing up on tiptoe to peer over the opaque screen dividing the candlelit room. The cozy den of dark walls and soothing aromas was filled with the relaxing sounds of trickling water and softly melodic chimes. The girl leaned closer to him and winked as she whispered, “I think I heard the outer door. She should be ready for you any minute.”
Aye, and he was ready for Sadie. The cooperative masseuse who had gladly agreed to play along with their scheme had no idea what was at stake here. Alec detected the quiet squeak of door hinges. Anticipation tingled across his flesh like the brush of a ghostly hand.
“I don’t know about this. I’m not too wild about having a total stranger rub on me.”
“It’ll be fine,” Miss Martha said. “And I’ll be over here on a table right next to you.”
Sadie. The sound of her voice almost triggered a mournful groan. Alec bit the inside of his cheek. He had t’remain silent. Sadie must no’ figure out that it was truly him massaging the tension from her body. Alec had jumped at the chance to feel Sadie beneath his hands again—even though he’d no’ be able to speak to her or let her know it was him. At least he could be in the same room with her—touch her—smell her.
The masseuse tapped him on the shoulder, then pressed a cautioning finger across her smiling mouth.
Alec nodded and shooed her around the screen. Get on with it, woman.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” the therapist said as she hurried around the room divider. “My associate will join us shortly. He has to finish up with another client.”
“He?” Miss Martha commented. “I call dibs on he.”
“You don’t even know what he looks like.”
“I’m seventy years old, Sadie. When I can get a man to rub on me, I don’t care what he looks like as long as he’s skilled with his hands and whatever else he’s rubbing me with.” Miss Martha paused for a hair’s breadth, then continued with a wicked chuckle, “And wherever he’s rubbing.”
“Miss Martha!”
The Seven Serenities’ massage therapist cleared her throat. “All right, ladies. My name’s Rachel, and by the time you leave here, you’ll be relaxed and feeling better than you have in years. Please remove your robes and lie facedown on the tables. Close your eyes and place your faces in the cushioned face cradles. That’s right. Just put your face in that hole and I’ll cover your derrieres with a towel.”
Alec strained to listen closer. He couldna see through the paper-thin screen and he dare not look over it. He couldna risk the possibility of Sadie spotting him.
The masseuse’s voice traveled back to him loud and clear. “There’s my assistant. I told you he wouldn’t be long.”
Quietly, Alec came around the screen, nearly cringing at the sight of Miss Martha lying on the padded table with nothing but a towel across her skinny arse.
The old woman shimmied and wiggled her pale, bony body from side to side, her knobby blue-veined legs spread dangerously far apart considering the shortness of her towel and Alec’s current angle in the room. Some things were ne’er meant for him t’see. Liver-colored age spots and patches of dry red skin spread across her back and arms like a topographical map of the world. Alec swallowed hard and held his breath.
Without lifting her face from the headrest, Miss Martha excitedly patted the sides of the table. “Over here, big boy. This old Cadillac is ready for a good rubdown.”
Alec shuddered and shied away, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from Miss Martha.
The masseuse gave him a dirty look and hurried over to Miss Martha’s table. “Actually, I’m going to work on you, Miss Higgins.” She jerked her head toward Sadie and widened her eyes at Alec as though asking him what the hell he was waiting for. “My…uhm…Todd is going to take care of Miss Williams today because I think you’d benefit more from a warm stone massage, and that’s my particular specialty.”
“How hard is it to rub somebody with rocks? You’re tellin’ me that he can’t figure that out?”
“Stop your grumbling,” Sadie said, her voice muffled from the depths of the padded face cradle. Strained exasperation was apparent in her tone. “Behave yourself or we’ll leave right now.”
“Fine,” Miss Martha grumbled. “Get to rockin’ and rubbin’, girly.”
Alec edged over to Sadie’s table, thankful that it was high enough to hide his already rock-hard erection. Even with the partially naked Miss Martha in the room, the sight of Sadie lying there waiting for his touch nearly undid him. It’s been so damn long.
He rested his hands on her shoulders, tenderly working his thumbs in circles through the tension knotting her back. Closing his eyes, he silently inhaled, breathing in the very essence of her. His body reacted with a starving vengeance. Hell’s bells and damn the demons. He managed to halt the painfully exquisite shudder before it vibrated out to his fingertips.
Take me, her body seemed to whisper. The warm silk of her skin beckoned him to bend and kiss his way down her spine. Sadie barely stirred beneath his touch, releasing a soft sigh as she moved. Alec locked his arms, stiffening as he bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
“Are you all right…Todd? Your name’s Todd, right?” Sadie’s body tensed under his hands.
“Todd’s unable to speak today,” Rachel supplied. “He’s a singer and a wannabe Broadway actor. Had to have throat surgery for some kind of polyps. Too soon for him to strain his tender vocal cords just yet.”
Sadie relaxed slightly beneath his touch but was still more tensed than when he’d first placed his hands upon her. “Oh my. I am sorry. I hope everything turns out okay for you.”
He gently patted a silent thank you on her shoulder, then pulled in a steadying breath and continued running his fingers and thumbs in tiny circles down the taut ridges of muscle on either side of Sadie’s backbone. His poor love’s body was one large, overly tightened knot. Her pain and worry pulsated up into his fingertips, nearly breaking his heart.
’Twill be better verra soon, dearest love. I swear it, he silently assured her. Just one more day until all was to be revealed. And only one more night alone in my cold bed, he promised to himself.
“Speakin’ of Broadway—what time are we supposed to meet with those Broadway folks tomorrow?” Miss Martha asked.
Sadie pushed up onto her elbows, then folded her arms in front of her and propped her chin atop them. “Bright and early. Jarvis said ‘eightish.’ ”
Alec froze, standing with Sadie’s left foot and calf in his hands, afraid to breathe for fear she’d turn around and see him.
Rachel noticed his reaction and hurried over to Sadie’s table, placing her body in front of Alec to hide him as best she could. “Face back down in the cradle, Miss Williams. You’re going to undo all the good that
Todd’s doing.”
“Oh, sorry.” Sadie complied with Rachel’s orders, shifting with another big sigh. “I still think this is a big mistake. Once they read the rest of my stuff, they’re gonna look at me and say, ‘We don’t know what the hell we were thinking. Get out! You suck!’ ”
“Oh, they are not. Now you just stop. Not another word of that nonsense.”
Alec heartily agreed with Miss Martha. He flinched and held back a gag, averting his eyes as Rachel slid away the towel shielding Miss Martha’s more private parts to balance a heated stone at the end of her tailbone.
That which has been seen canna be unseen. Especially no’ that.
Chapter 32
I am so going to throw up. Sadie clutched her hands in her lap, concentrating on pulling in slow, deep breaths, then just as slowly releasing them. Today had to go well. It just had to. Now that she’d finally accepted that this unbelievably wonderful fairy tale was really happening, she was terrified she was going to screw it up. Maybe she could just send Miss Martha up to talk to them while she waited in the limo. Miss Martha could convince them that Sadie was one of those eccentric artsy-fartsy types that avoided contact with everyone except her select inner circle. There was only one problem with this grandiose plan. Miss Martha had already refused to do it the first time Sadie had asked. Maybe if I sound even more pitiful, I can get her to change her mind.
“Miss Martha—”
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish—”
“And I’m not going to let you finish. That was a preposterous idea the first time you asked me and it hasn’t improved.” Miss Martha gave her a pinch-faced look. If the old woman had a ruler, she probably would’ve rapped Sadie across the knuckles with it.
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