by Mia Kay
“It’s a pleasure.” His voice was as warm as his hand in hers under the table and the smile he turned back to her. “I thought I’d run into you at the gym this morning.”
“Mom got up at the butt crack of dawn.” She blushed as he choked on his tea. “Sorry. Family expression. I had to get out of the room early to avoid the gleeful drill instructor she turns into when she’s packing.”
Nora stood and pulled Adam’s elbow. “I’m starving, Adam.”
Grace went in the opposite direction, gazing into Ben’s confused frown. “I need to take care of something,” she explained as she squeezed his fingers. “Don’t eat all the bacon.”
Certain he was at the buffet, Grace hurried to the tour office. Knocking on the door, she entered to face a friendly young woman behind a clean desk with everything at right angles. She’d have a heart attack in my office.
Grace sat and pulled her passport from her purse. “I’m Ella Grace Donnelley, and I have a favor to ask.”
A few minutes later, after going through a much shorter buffet line and winking at her mother, Grace carried her full plate to the table where Ben was holding her chair. She could relax and enjoy the rest of her vacation.
After breakfast, they boarded the bus in a gaggle, following their tour guide and her little white flag. Sunny and Camille surrounded themselves with the Greer cousins and the rest of their group, gaily waving at their children and not leaving empty seats.
Ben took the seat next to her, one row behind the Cains. “It’s a good thing we get on,” he teased as he stretched his legs into the aisle.
“If I can have your attention, please?” The announcement over the loudspeaker indicated their tour of the Ringstrasse had begun in earnest.
A few hours later, they descended into the Hofburg plaza and followed the crowd toward the Spanish Riding School. Adam and Nora took in the sights. Grace stared at the library.
“You want to go back in there, don’t you?” Ben teased.
She nodded. It would be great to find her books on the shelves, their spines cracked and pliable from being opened and read often. Hopefully they were cracked. She’d enjoy seeing them rubbed soft with creased spines, loved to pieces.
He lifted her face for his kiss. It was brief, but warm and firm. “I have wanted to do that all morning,” he murmured.
“Next time don’t wait so long.”
His lashes dropped, shading his eyes, while he darted his tongue across his bottom lip. She wanted him to kiss her again.
The breeze caught her hair and he combed it out of her face, his fingers stroking her skin and tugging the strands.
The people behind them cleared their throats in a pointed hint that the line was moving. Grace ducked her head and faced forward.
“Why does your mother call you Idgie?” he asked.
They crossed the threshold of the Riding School. Sawdust tickled her nose and the mammoth arena spread out before them. Her fuzzy brain kicked into gear. One innocent answer, in this crowd, risked more than she was willing to lose.
“It’s a long story. Let’s find a good place to watch. I read about the Lipizzaner Stallions in grade school, and I never thought I’d get to see them live.”
When they reached the rail, Ben stood behind her so as to not block anyone else’s view. He’d ridden for several roles, and he knew the skill required for displays such as this. It was like a ballet, with nearly half-ton ballerinas. Watching Grace’s enthusiastic response was more fun. She bounced on her toes and stretched to see every movement in the arena. Every time she turned her head, her wide smile was dazzling.
As she leaned forward to snap a picture, her foot slipped and she flailed for a handhold. He grabbed her hips, pulling her back against him as his heart hammered.
“Mind your feet, bampot.” He freed the camera from her tight grip. “Let me. I’ve got to be this tall for some reason.”
She stayed close to him, making it difficult to pay attention to the camera. She was curvy in all the right spots and the musk from her perfume filled his senses. But she wasn’t talking. She might not have been breathing.
The performance ended to wild applause, but Grace stayed still and quiet. When everyone descended into the arena to meet the horses and their riders, she dithered at the back of the line.
Ben put a hand on her waist, turning her to him. “Are you okay?”
She met his gaze and blinked. “No.”
“Me neither.” He stroked her hip. They fit together in the most tantalizing places, and he wished they were anywhere but in public.
She gulped and then whispered, “What the hell are we doing?”
God, no. Not already. Out of self-preservation, he guided her down the stairs and into the arena. Horses and riders were queued in a parade, and admirers surrounded each pair. As they passed their mothers, Grace slowed.
“Ben . . .”
No. I know I promised, but please don’t exile me to the other side of the train. I’ll go mad before we reach Rome.
He tucked her under his arm and kept walking. Grace continued staring until she was looking over her shoulder.
“Don’t panic,” he whispered as he strode toward Adam and Nora, alone with the last horse in the row. “We’ll be out of here in a few minutes, and we’ll get it sorted. Please?”
Realizing she was almost running to keep up with him, he slowed and finally stopped. He stared into her eyes. They were full of apprehension, doubt, regret. Secrets.
What was she hiding? Part of him wanted to know, but a larger part shrank away. If it took her from him, he didn’t want to hear it.
Please give me a chance.
Her breath was shaky and her nod wobbled, but she squeezed his fingers before she left him in favor of the horse. The regal white animal dwarfed the women, but Grace stroked his nose while she and Nora talked in a whisper. Within minutes, the horse dropped his head, begging for Grace’s attention.
Ben knew the feeling. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her out of here, but he was stuck listening to Adam and Hans, the rider.
“Don’t you agree, Ben?” Adam asked.
“Sorry, what?”
“That the talent of the team lies mostly with the rider?”
He blinked at the other man and then looked across at Hans, whose lips were thin and his color high.
“No, actually. I’ve ridden some incredibly uncoordinated horses, and then there are a few that saved my clumsy arse.”
Hans relaxed. Together, he and Ben educated Adam about the difference between animals who performed versus those who worked. Ben let Hans tell stories from sets or discuss the skill of stunt riders.
Before he realized, Grace had walked back to him and taken his hand. Her eyes were clear and her smile was stronger. Together, they joined the conversation until their time at the Riding School ended.
Back in the plaza, their mothers were knotted amongst their new friends. Sunny looked up. “We’re going for coffee at the Palm House. Do you want to join us?”
Ben searched for his mother and found her entrenched in a conversation about Jane Austen, clearly having an excellent time without him. He turned to Grace.
“No. I think we’ll go . . .”
“To the Volksgarten.” Grace finished the sentence. “We missed that yesterday.”
Sunny bustled off with the group. “Be careful. It looks like rain. Keep her out of the library if you can.”
“I’ll do my best,” Ben promised, laughing.
The clouds darkened, but the rain held back as he and Grace wandered through the garden.
“Are you going to tell me?” he asked.
“Tell you what?”
“‘Idgie?’”
“It’s from Fried Green Tomatoes. Fannie Flagg is Mom’
s favorite author, and it’s a play on my name.”
“You can get ‘Idgie’ from Grace?”
Her eyes went wide as all the color drained from her face. She sounded like she was talking through a straw. “Grace is my middle name.”
“Really? What’s your Christian name?”
It took her a moment to speak. “Something I like less than Grace.”
“You don’t like Grace? I think it’s pretty.” Oh dear God, I sound like some adolescent boy.
At least it made her laugh. He linked her arm through his and continued on their walk, content to drop the subject for now. They fell into easy conversation, discussing everything, yet nothing in particular.
The rain came without warning. One minute they were walking along enjoying the breeze, the next they were staring open mouthed in shock as cold buckets of water poured from the heavens. They ran for the trees at the edge of the garden and reached relative dryness as they lost their breath.
“Ben!” Grace squealed as he shook the water from his hair.
“Sorry.” He grinned, not the least bit repentant.
“Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure what y’all do in Britain, but at home a tree isn’t the safest place to be in a storm.”
“Your accent has slipped, doll.” He winked as he tried his best imitation. “I like it.” He assessed their location. “This isn’t the only tree, and we’re not on a hill.” To be safe, he pulled her from the edge of the tree line.
With a disgusted sigh, she wrung the water from her hair and tied it in a knot at her nape. “I look like a drowned rat.”
Ben disagreed. She’d exposed the long column of her throat and the sweep of her jaw. Her shirt clung to her in all the right spots and emphasized her figure, especially her pebbled nipples. She shivered, and he kicked himself. Of course her nipples are stiff, you daft git. She’s freezing.
“Here.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped her face while he moved close enough to lend her his body heat. She wrapped her arms around his waist and tugged him close.
“I h-hope you don’t mind. I’m c-cold.”
He chafed both hands on her arms and back but, with her wet clothes, it wasn’t helping. Instead, he held her and listened to the thunder and the rain.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said, her words muffled against his chest. “I got scared that things are going too fast, but I don’t want to slow them down.”
She snuggled closer, and he forced himself to silence as he tried to think about anything other than the way her body curved into his. She fidgeted in his embrace. God, she smelled good, and it felt . . . right to hold her like this.
“I’m afraid of how I feel when I’m around you because it makes me worry about how I’m going to feel when I’m not around you.” She gained momentum. “And then I think that’s nonsense because I’ve only known you three days, and in two weeks we’ll go back to our own lives, and I have no idea how you feel about this whole thing.”
Ben tilted her chin so she could see his face, and ignored his quaking knees. “I woke this morning, looked in the mirror, and told myself I was not going to touch you today. I was going to stay close to you, talk to you, get to know you, let you get to know me, but I was not under any circumstances going to hold your hand, kiss you, touch you.” His hands tightened on her in evidence of his lack of willpower.
He kissed her, warming her lips, teasing and testing their softness, growing hungrier as she joined in the play. Ben curved her against him, craving the softness she offered.
Her hands left his waist, letting the cold in, only to banish it when she ran one hand up his chest and curved the other around his neck, grazing the skin under his collar. She stopped trembling and her soft hands became more confident. His breath came in gulps as she tempted his tongue into her mouth, drawing against it as her groan shook him all the way to his fingertips.
Leaving her lips, Ben trailed his mouth along her jaw and down her neck, savoring the taste and texture of her skin and her whimpers of pleasure. The path back to her ear was just as torturous.
“Christ, Grace. You scare the hell out of me.”
She pulled away, need glazing her eyes as she shared his labored breaths. He couldn’t resist rolling his hips against her, proving exactly what she did to him. Her corresponding moan almost unwound his good intentions. He gave her one more thorough kiss. “We might as well be frightened together, don’t you think?”
“Okay,” she whispered. A slow smile spread across her face.
“Thank God.” He stepped behind her so they could watch it rain. Anchoring his arms around her waist, he resisted the temptation to push her against a tree, and . . . Careful, Ben. You can’t continue down that trail. “What’s your safe word?”
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. The thoughts filling his head tightened his skin. Wrong, so, so wrong. “You know what I mean.”
“Sod off, Bennett.” Her laughter ruined her attempted impersonation. “That’ll make you disappear like a demon dipped in holy water.”
“Brilliant. No more thoughts of scarpering unless you can’t stand the sight of me.”
As the rain fell, her shivers stopped. Her hips relaxed before her spine sagged. Her head dropped to his shoulder and curved into his neck. The rain dripped from the leaves while the lightning created a fabulous show across the darkened sky. The moisture called forward a musky, not unpleasant, smell of wet vegetation and dirt. Tucked away as they were, he could pretend they were the only two people in Vienna.
“What’s your Christian name, Idgie?”
She shook her head, her hair tickling his chin.
“Gra-ace.”
“It won’t help to whine, sweetheart,” she said.
“A hint?”
“Let’s just say you’re not the only person named after a fictional character.” She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “It’s stopped raining. We’d better make a run for the bus.”
Once on board, they found seats facing the Cains. Nora shivered in Adam’s arms, and Ben battled the seat belt to pull Grace closer. “I could ask them to shut off the air,” he offered.
She shook her head, pulling her hair loose. “No sense for everyone else to suffer.”
Her hair smelled like apples and her skin held the scent of rain. Her nipples were stiff again, and her makeup was gone. Wet hair, clean skin, as if she’d freshly showered. Trembling, like she needed him to warm her. Ben unhooked her seat belt and pulled her close. Her sigh both chilled his skin and heated it.
Sunny came to his side, standing in the aisle. “Grace, we’re joining the Greers and their group tonight. Would you like to go with us?”
Grace snuggled deeper into his side and pulled his arm tighter around her shoulders. “I’ll be up to shower and change, but I think Ben and I are going to dinner.”
Sunny patted his shoulder as she walked away. “You make sure she’s warm.”
Adam stared down the aisle. “I’ll bet she’s a handful.”
“She keeps me on my toes,” Grace confirmed.
Ben stroked her shoulder, earning another shiver on top of all the others, and making him think of kissing her. They were starting down a dangerous path. Maybe he could head them off.
“Would you two like to join us for dinner?” he asked Adam and Nora.
“Please do,” Grace encouraged.
The Cains accepted, and they spent the rest of the drive making plans. Once at the hotel, Ben kept Grace close until they reached her floor. She patted his hand with icy fingers as she stepped off the elevator. “Go get warm. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few hours.”
He walked to his room, his feet squishing in his shoes and cold water trailing from his shirt collar down his spine. Without her distraction, he was fr
eezing. Warm shower, dry towels, dry clothes. Heaven.
His mother was perched on the edge of the bed, waiting on him.
“Get your shower dear, then we need to talk.”
Chapter 5
In warm sweats and a soft t-shirt, Ben rubbed the rough towel over his still-cold head, hoping to get dried before the room A/C kicked on. He walked around the corner, wincing as he banged his elbow on the doorframe. “What’s up, Mum?”
“Why don’t Sunny and I room together?”
He dragged the towel to his shoulders. “Huh?”
“We’ve discussed it, and we think it would be a great solution.”
She’d always surprised him, but this was too much. “Do you know what you’re suggesting?”
“Bennett,” she laughed, “you’re almost forty years old. I don’t believe you’re celibate.”
“What about our vacation?”
“We can still have a lovely time together,” she assured him, “but you have to admit you’d rather be with Grace. And I’m having an excellent adventure with Sunny.”
“Can you imagine what my life would do to her?”
“You aren’t an international spy. She’s not in mortal danger.”
“No. It’s just putting up with me while I prepare for a role, followed by months alone while I’m on location. Then there are interrupted dinners, photographers, and an occasional unruly horde on a red carpet. Oh, and let’s not forget the knickers in the post.”
“You’re not doing any of that in the next two weeks, and I don’t see why it’s a problem in the first place.”
“Mother, you can’t tell her.”