“You do realize you’re challenging me,” Troy said

“Mmm-hmm.” Miranda stepped toward him, closing the mere inches between them. His bold wife knew just what he wanted then. He recognized the flare of desire in her eyes, sensed in that moment he’d accomplished his goal by distracting her big-time.

There was nothing between them except a growing erotic challenge. She wanted him to beg. He wanted her to beg. It was a potent combination. And with the variety of sex toys around them, he thought they both stood a good chance of getting what they wanted.

Miranda slipped out of his arms in a playful move he hadn’t been prepared for, leaving him feeling the sudden distance between them, but he didn’t complain.

Not when she slipped her curly mane over her shoulder and reached for her zipper…then Troy braced himself for the show that was about to begin.

Dear Reader,

The FALLING INN BED… miniseries has been all about exploring how falling in bed leads to falling in love. So far we’ve savored the sweetness of finally giving in to long-term lust. We’ve grown breathless with sparks-at-first-sight. Now let me introduce my already-in-progress couple (a phrase borrowed from talented Harlequin Temptation author Tanya Michaels—thanks, Tanya!).

Miranda and Troy have known what they wanted from each other from the moment they met—to be together in and out of bed. But saying “I do!” isn’t always enough to ensure a happily ever after. Luckily for these two, love forms a solid foundation for marriage and lust proves an effective tool for tackling even daunting obstacles.

I hope Pillow Chase brings you to happily ever after. Let me know. Drop me a line in care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario Canada M3B 3K9, or visit my Web site at www.jeanielondon.com.

Very truly yours,

Jeanie London

Pillow Chase
Jeanie London

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Quinta and Edward Flood, a very special couple who are living proof that love can conquer anything. You’ve shared your lives for more than sixty years, and I thank you for sharing the past twenty-two with me. Love you both!

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Prologue

IF EVER A WOMAN had been born to make a man think of sex, that woman was his wife, Miranda. And if ever a hotel had been designed to make Lieutenant Commander Troy Knight imagine the variety of ways to make love to his bride of barely two years, it was Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast.

This hotel had won the Most Romantic Getaway Award with good reason. Ever since they’d visited during the planning stages of their wedding, Troy had been impressed by how this hotel’s amenities focused on couples. Shops offered everything from sex toys to lingerie, and the brand-new Wedding Wing kicked off its grand opening with a large-scale promotional campaign called the Naughty Nuptials.

And then there were all these romance-themed suites.

The one spreading out before him now was an aphrodisiac of sight and sound, so exotic that Troy could only stand beside Miranda in the doorway and take it all in.

Purple silk veils draped gold furnishings. Statues of couples in erotic poses doubled as columns to separate the living and dining areas. Vases and screens made of colored stones. Sultry flute and cymbal music. Swaying rattan fans.

The Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid.

Whoever named this suite hadn’t been kidding.

A domed wall and ceiling of glass made up the far end of the room. Beyond lay a courtyard of foliage and flowers and bright summer sky. A garden oasis in the middle of gilded opulence. And this would be their home for the next three weeks.

Troy couldn’t stop smiling and didn’t bother to try. He pushed the door wide and motioned Miranda inside, appreciating the sight of her from this vantage. Slim and feminine, she moved with a sensual grace that always caught him hard. Even the black curls tumbling down her back made him think about how all that silky hair felt on his skin.

When he’d married her in an elaborate ceremony in this very hotel nearly two years ago, Troy hadn’t realized that his desire for her could grow any stronger. He’d guessed marriage would satisfy his hunger and make them more comfortable together.

In some ways it had, but marriage hadn’t dulled the ache inside that pushed him to shut this door and keep her all to himself until they had to return to the real world.

That ache still took him by surprise. The feeling was potent, urgent, as if he couldn’t get enough time with his wife and wanted to make the most of every second together.

Troy knew this feeling intimately. As a career naval officer, he’d experienced his share of situations where urgency kept him alive. To return to Miranda.

“So what do you think of our suite, Mrs. Knight?” He closed the door and shut out the world.

“I’m not sure what to think.”

Her silky voice started his pulse humming, and he covered the distance to where she stood inspecting their surroundings, eyes wide and kissable lips parted. Plucking the purse from her hand, Troy hung it on the back of a chair. “This suite looks like the Web site.”

“Only in real-time.”

Her voice gave no clue whether she thought real-time was a good thing, so he lifted her stylish hat away to free up his view. Just a glimpse, and Troy recognized the distance in her expression, the shadows in her gaze.

Real-time should have been a great thing. Three weeks together in a romance resort after months spent apart during his latest deployment should have been better than great.

But Miranda’s closed expression suggested otherwise. He recognized the look—one she wore in public—a beautiful, perfect mask that showed no hint what she felt inside.

Miranda excelled at dealing socially with his commanding officers. She was the envy of his peers, and Troy enjoyed having her on his arm during the many functions that were as much a part of his career as his special operations missions. He’d been reared military and understood the game. To others, his wife was an extension of him, half of the whole. He was very proud of her.

But Troy loved Miranda best when she let her hair down and looked eager. She didn’t look eager now. She looked…unreadable. Her public persona was firmly in place, her expression so remote he’d have needed a nuclear sub to maneuver the distance to his wife. The wife he knew was in there. Somewhere.

He had three weeks to find her.

“Who knew they could come up with a suite wilder than the Roman Bagnio?” he said, a reminder of the romance-themed suite they’d enjoyed on their wedding night not so long ago.

“Those baths were definitely wild.”

Folding her in his arms, he drank in the feel of her smooth curves, warm and familiar and inviting. “Definitely wild. This time we’ll be around here long enough to put these facilities to good use.”

“Our wedding night wasn’t enough for you last time, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Not even close.”

They’d been the last couple to be married at Falling Inn Bed before construction had started on the new Wedding Wing. Now that the addition to the historic hotel was finally complete, they’d been invited back to participate in the inaugural events as the featured honeymoon couple.

Troy had been all for this vacation. The ongoing war against terrorism had been demanding his attention through most of their marriage. While separation was a normal part of their life together—he’d been stationed in Norfolk pre-9/11 when they’d met—regular deployment into the action had been keeping him away more than usual.

A lot more than was healthy for any relationship.

Troy couldn’t say if the separation was a problem. He and Miranda didn’t argue. They weren’t angry with each other or disappointed with anything but the length of time they spent apart. Yet lately whenever he returned from a mission, it took longer and longer to find her behind that perfect wife persona she wore in public.

He thought she might be dealing with some wartime anxiety issues, but she’d assured him that his e-mail posts and phone calls kept her stress manageable. As far as she was concerned, they’d always dealt with separation. She pointed out how his mother had a husband and two children serving various functions in the armed forces right now. If he wasn’t worried about how his mother coped, he shouldn’t be worried about her.

Troy could only take her at her word. No stranger to a demanding lifestyle, Miranda was part of a politically active family, which came with a set of demands as unique as his own. She could maneuver the territory.

Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman who meant everything to him was quietly retreating behind an invisible wall. Or that the intimacy, which had always been such an amazing part of their relationship, was slipping away. Troy might not be sure what the problem was, but there was a problem. He felt it down deep.

He had three weeks to get Miranda to share whatever was bothering her.

And Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast happened to be the perfect place to carry out that mission objective. This hotel specialized in couples, and when they were together, the rest of the world ceased to exist, which was exactly what needed to happen so they could focus on what was really important.

Each other.

1

WHO KNEW A BLINDFOLD would make such a difference?

Miranda Knight hadn’t, but with one silk scarf throwing the world into shadow, her remaining senses were heightened, lending the oncoming sexual encounter an unfamiliar thrill.

Since arriving for their stint as the Hottest Honeymoon Couple at the Wedding Wing’s grand opening, she’d made lots of discoveries, both in her sexual fantasies and otherwise. With Troy, the fantasies were always well worth the effort.

Regrettably the otherwise hadn’t been so accommodating.

But right now Miranda wasn’t going to think about anything but her fantasies. The otherwise had no place intruding in her thoughts when she sat on a chaise in the Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid oasis, blindfolded, with a whole morning ahead to enjoy her husband.

Troy was an early bird who opened his eyes fully awake. She had to work harder to face the day, always worth facing whenever Troy twined his arms around hers and kissed her until pleasure made her gladly swap dreams for reality.

Lovemaking in the afternoon could be equally gratifying. Sometimes they wore themselves out and wound up napping in each other’s arms. Other times they worked up such an appetite that dinner became a meal best served in bed, where they didn’t have to dress or make polite conversation with Troy’s commanding officers or the other men on his team.

She liked making love with him late at night, too. When the lights went out, she used her hands to see, to take control and drive Troy wild. His throaty growls would echo in the darkness, and that was her favorite way to fall asleep, feeling adored and satisfied and so very pleased with herself.

When Miranda really got down to it, she liked making love with her handsome husband anytime, anywhere.

Good thing, too, because right now she needed a good diversion. The otherwise had been stressful in ways she hadn’t expected. She’d meant for this vacation to be a break from reality, a chance to reacquaint themselves after so many months apart. Coming back to Falling Inn Bed was supposed to help her focus on them as a couple and forget all about the stresses of their everyday lives.

Not to mention that Niagara Falls was home, and Miranda had been counting on feeling better once back on familiar turf.

Unfortunately geography didn’t seem to be making the difference. They were two weeks into their trip—the grand opening’s official Hottest Honeymoon week would begin tomorrow—and she was sitting here half-naked, blindfolded and thinking.

Thankfully the beep of the microwave distracted her, and Miranda frowned into her dark world, wondering what Troy was up to. He’d seemed interested in a lot more than food this morning. She hadn’t heard him sneak up behind her while she’d been dressing. He’d scooped her into his arms and brought her out to this oasis then left her sitting here, waiting.

Stretching back on the chaise, Miranda let her hair spread around her in a pose she hoped would entice the man from his meal. She wasn’t going to think about food while basking in this unfamiliar awareness of her senses.

In her mind’s eye she could see the oasis, alive with blossoms and lush foliage, smells that grew thick in the warmth of the morning sun. Gardenia, jasmine, rose, lily and, beneath others she couldn’t name, the rich scent of earth.

The garden fanned out around a small tiled piazza. A fountain with whimsical sculptures of a naked couple filled this oasis with the steady bubbling of water. Hidden audio speakers piped music through the suite, the soft strains of a tambourine, cymbals and flute weaving an exotic tune that lent to the fantasy of the place.

Rattan fans circulated air over her bare skin and, combined with the blindfold, she felt aroused in a way she’d never felt before, vulnerable almost to the point of breathlessness. And curious, too, especially when the refrigerator door opened.

What was Troy doing? Her husband was an adventurer in bed on a normal day, always cherishing and challenging her, but with him so caught up in the spirit of the Naughty Nuptials and all the erotic events…

Miranda heard the scuff of movement across the thick oriental rugs in the living room, and suddenly her whole body felt attuned to the sounds, to the soft stir of branches as he passed into the courtyard, to the careful clatter of something—a tray perhaps—on the tiled tabletop. And then the quiet hush of his breaths when he came to stand beside her.

She could sense his presence. Chemistry connected them, an awareness on some elemental level that not even this blindfold diminished. Miranda could feel him, could feel his gaze sweep over her. She knew he stood beside her, most likely smiling at the sight she made spreading out on the chaise.

Marriage had only deepened their connection. She’d learned to sense Troy’s moods, to guess at his thoughts behind those striking green eyes. And the phenomenon worked both ways. They didn’t always need words and could often communicate with a glance or a touch. She liked that about their relationship.

Well, she usually liked it… She suspected Troy could sense something was off with her now, despite her best efforts to leave her worries back in San Diego. She wouldn’t let anything spoil their time together, not when they had a fantasy vacation to enjoy and he’d been gone for so long.

Stretching out, she hoped to entice him, to prove how determined she was to have fun. He claimed they were soul mates, and while she honestly hadn’t given much thought to her stance on traveling through lifetimes to find each other, Miranda knew only Troy had ever made her feel so aroused by simply knowing he wanted her.

And she knew he did. Even with the blindfold.

She felt him taking his time to peruse her, drawing out the silence, comfortable with it. Her insides grew fluttery, her breath poised in her throat as she awaited his next move.

“I like watching your body respond to me.” His voice was hard-edged and strong with no hint of an accent. “I don’t even have to touch you.”

Troy had been reared all over the world, a typical military brat, and the only sound that came through in his voice right now was the sound of stimulated male.

Who needed to see when she could hear how much he wanted her?

“I try to be an accommodating wife.”

“You are that, Mrs. Knight. No question.” Slipping his hand under her ankles, he maneuvered himself beneath her and placed her feet in his lap. “You don’t know how many times I’ve been in my barracks falling asleep, trying to figure out what I’ve done to deserve you. Why are you willing to wait for me to come home when you could have a husband who’s always with you?”

Troy wasn’t shy about sharing how he felt, and she’d always appreciated his honesty, relied on his ability to steer them through emotional waters because she didn’t find it so easy.

“You love me,” she said simply.

“I do.”

And he seemed committed to proving how much he loved every little part of her when he massaged her feet. Miranda inhaled deeply, a sound of pure contentment as his touch melted her muscles, and she reveled in the simple joy of togetherness. For some couples time together was a given, for them it was a gift.

Easing her foot in a circle, Troy worked the muscles along her calves then began the process over again with the other. His fingers glided along her hose, his strong hands touching her in all the right places.

“So what have I done to deserve this special treatment?” Miranda asked.

“You love me.” He dragged his mouth along her in-step and warmed the silk with a kiss.

She trembled as he nibbled his way along her anklebone, an area of her body she’d never realized was so sensitive. And this wasn’t the only erotic discovery she’d made since becoming involved with her husband.

Troy’s sense of adventure was one of the things that had attracted her to then-Lieutenant Knight. He’d seemed larger than life, more exciting than any man she’d ever known, and it was much more than his career and his uniform. Much more than his piercing green eyes and striking blond looks. Much more than his aura of powerful male.

It was simply him, and his wonderful zest for living.

He made her reach beyond herself and the world she knew. He didn’t have any trouble handling the visibility that came along with her family, with having a father and grandfather who were both politicians. Troy performed beautifully in public but managed to live life as if no one was watching.

It was a skill she hoped to learn.

As far as Miranda was concerned, Troy was a good influence. He’d even turned their wedding into a celebration. Scoffing at the traditional, he’d talked her into a fantasy wedding at this romance resort. Then he’d whisked her away from Niagara Falls for a life filled with travel and excitement and challenges she’d never dreamed of.

Challenges she’d never dreamed she couldn’t live up to.

Squelching the thought brutally, Miranda slid her fingers through his hair. The familiar feel of the brushed short strands helped chase away her thoughts with a burst of tenderness for how much she loved this man. And how much she would do to be with him.

Like stop thinking. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking.

Tracing the curl of his ear, Miranda trailed her fingers along his hairline, along the curve of his jaw beneath smoothly sculpted cheeks. She searched for the pulse beating there.

And she found it, strong and steady. Like Troy himself.

Pressing her fingers into his throat, she counted the beats, her own heart speeding its pace when he ran his tongue through that responsive hollow between ankle-bone and heel. He swirled his tongue over her foot, a lush stroke, before gusting a warm breath between her toes.

He made the simplest touch erotic, made her respond to him as easily. It was his gift, one that bore out his belief about soul mates.

And made her so very glad they’d found each other.

When she heard a thunk against the tabletop, she tried to distinguish the sound, but couldn’t. Letting her fingers drift away from his skin, she waited.

An unexpected warmth touched the bottom of her foot, and she started, earning a throaty chuckle from Troy as he pressed the solid heat to her skin, that solid cylindrical heat…and she realized what he’d been nuking in the microwave.

“And I thought you were making breakfast.”

He rolled the warm sex toy over the ball of her foot, over muscles he’d massaged into supple compliance. “I’m making a meal out of you. Hungry?”

“Only for you.”

“Good.”

“So what is this, Lieutenant Commander? The glass dildo or the see-through vibrator?” He’d obviously helped himself to some goodies from one of the more unique features of this suite.

The sexy sheet sets.

Each day housekeeping outfitted the gold-framed bed in specialty sheets with names like the Kama Sutra Sports Set and the Incredible Edible. Each set came equipped with a surplus of sexy toys for couples to play with.

“You tell me, Mrs. Knight.”

“Oh, so you want to play games?”

He didn’t reply, just eased the device up her calf, a two-handed move that made her sigh. But content didn’t seem to be the reaction he wanted because he grazed the device lightly behind her knee.

“That tickles.” She scrambled away, but didn’t get far. With this blindfold, she wasn’t sure where the chaise ended and didn’t want to overbalance and land on the floor.

Not that Troy wouldn’t save her. He’d catch her before she could go over the side, but she much preferred to look enticing in her blindfold rather than clumsy.

But her vanity came with a price, and choosing the path of least risk meant exposing the insides of her thighs. Troy zeroed in on the target, skimming that warmth along her skin, tickling her until her muscles quivered with her efforts to resist.

But he wasn’t having any part of resistance.

“Spread your legs.” Arousal made his voice a sexy command, and shifting around, he wedged his hips between her knees to force her to comply.

Miranda didn’t need her eyesight to know hunger had sharpened the lines of his face, made him look focused, predatory. She’d burned that expression into her memory to carry her through the times when they were apart.

But they were together now, and using his ruthlessly toned body to best effect, Troy crowded her against the sloping back of the chaise, filled her senses with the feel of him, the familiar male scent of his freshly scrubbed skin.

He never slowed those achingly teasing touches, but worked his way toward the juncture between her thighs until his sexy device warmed the panty hose against her aroused sex.

Sliding her hands along his chest, she used touch to anchor herself as that invading heat melted her insides. She traced the broad hollows of his smooth skin, but before she could slip her arms around him, that heat between her legs burst into motion, an electronic vibration that pulsated against her most private places and made her gasp in surprise.

“Does that answer your question, Mrs. Knight?”

He pressed his mouth against her ear, breathed a sultry breath, another sensual assault that sent that surge of moist fire straight to her core.

The sensation was too unexpected, too direct, too potent, and she writhed against it, found her attempts to escape only heightened the intensity. Her stomach gathered against the pleasure. Her breasts grew heavy and tight.

“The see-through vibrator.” She exhaled the words on a breath.

His low chuckle radiated against her ear, another reverberation that throbbed low in her belly. “Surprise. It’s more than just a see-through vibrator.”

“What is it?”

He upped the speed a notch and the humming grew louder.

“Oh, Troy.” She didn’t give him a chance to answer when that pulsation caught the bundle of nerve endings hidden in the folds of her sex. A shock wave ran through her.

“I’m keeping that part a surprise so you’ll have something to look forward to.”

“More games.” The protest was pure bravado because Miranda wasn’t sure she wanted another surprise, not when she couldn’t decide whether to ride the palpating sensation or attempt an escape.

Troy loved doing this to her, too. He loved seeing how far he could push until she dissolved into an incoherent puddle of impulses that would do anything for satisfaction.

He also knew about paybacks. In fact, she thought he looked forward to them… But right now he was at his highly trained finest, trailing wet kisses down her jaw and neck, sucking gently at the pulse in the base of her throat, making her whole body tingle under such a sexy assault.

Her breasts had grown heavy with desire. Pulling him closer, she rasped her nipples against his chest for some relief. But her bra interfered with the friction of skin against skin, and he wouldn’t shift forward enough to make a difference.

Then again, why should he move? His growing erection had inched against her thigh, and all he had to do was arch his hips to ease his own ache.

No, Troy was having a good time exactly where he was, teasing her with openmouthed kisses along her shoulder. He used the vibrator to awaken every nerve ending between her head and toes and her panty hose eased his journey between her thighs. Slipping the tip slightly inside, he explored her most intimate places, and the feel of silk-covered tip gently probing aroused her until she could only surrender to the sensation, feeling the promise of a climax lingering in the distance. Swelling, waning and there, just out of reach.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of his sexy game, either. Troy’s kisses grew demanding. He trailed his mouth down her chest, toward her breasts, and for a breathless moment she thought he might grant her wish and remove her bra, but he only speared his tongue beneath the lace, barely reaching her nipple with a teasing wet stroke.

She would have removed the thing herself, but their position hindered her mobility. He kneeled over her, all warm, hard muscle and bare skin, and she could only trace the strong hollows of his chest, reveling in the tightness that was a result of his rigorous training.

Miranda could ride his erection, though. Every arch of her hips dragged her silk-clad thigh against him. She wanted him to share this urgency she felt, but Troy obviously recognized her game because the vibrator suddenly stopped.

Sucking in a deep breath, she protested with a gasp as the intense arousal ebbed its frenzied pace.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Propping himself up, he maneuvered out of the tangle of arms and legs they’d become. “I’m coming right back.”

The gravelly rough sound of his voice made her smile. “I’m a captive audience, Lieutenant Commander. Even if you weren’t sitting on my legs, I can’t see to get up and leave.”

He chuckled and eased off her, and Miranda blindly loosened her hair from where it had caught in her bra strap, wondering what her handsome husband had in store for her next.

She didn’t wonder long. A dragging sound suddenly drowned out the throb of her heartbeat.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Rearranging the furniture?”

“Just a chair so I can reach the next part of my surprise.”

“More surprises.” He hadn’t finished the job from his first surprise. Her heartbeat hadn’t slowed to a normal pace yet, and her bottom ached with pulsing little bursts. “Can I handle it?”

The question slipped out, proving her thoughts were still lingering too close to the surface. But Troy didn’t seem to notice. He placed his hands on her waist, his cold hands.

With a yelp, she tried to scramble out of his reach only to find herself cornered by the back of the chaise. “Troy, I don’t want a surprise that involves ice.”

Laughing, he snagged the waistband of her panty hose and worked the jumble over her hips and down her legs, warming his fingers on her skin along the way. Then he disappeared again.

The blindfold that had started out adding a thrill had become problematic. She was half tempted to remove it to prepare herself for his icy surprise, but the scent of male suddenly filled her senses. The velvet soft head of a very impressive erection brushed her cheek as Troy leaned over her.

Miranda found herself face-to-face with a perfect chance to turn the tables. Since chances this opportune didn’t come along often, she struck out with her tongue and dragged a wet stroke along his hot length.

Troy exhaled hard, and that steely erection bobbed against her mouth. With a laugh, and exceptional aim for a blindfolded woman, she drew him inside in a hard pull.

His body jolted in surprise, and he slid his hand into her hair, suddenly needing to hang on.

“Miranda.” A warning that she tested his restraint.

Exactly what she wanted. To test him. To tempt him. To take the upper hand. With an inspired move, she drew back and glided down his erection again.

And again.

She didn’t care how hard his legs shook. He shouldn’t have stuck this greedy thing anywhere near her mouth if he didn’t want to deal with the consequences. Remaining on his feet was his concern, not hers, so Miranda threaded her arms around him, sank her fingers into his butt and urged him forward for a deeper stroke.

That one almost choked her, but she managed to dodge her gag reflex just in time to hear him groan. Loud.

He seemed undecided whether to let her take control or make a break for it, but as long as his hand was on her head she couldn’t go anywhere. So with her mouth against his crotch, Miranda took him for a ride with long deep pulls and some lingering wet swirls of her tongue for good measure.

He lasted longer than she’d expected. Then again, Troy had been making up for lost time ever since their arrival at this hotel. His control should be well in place after that much sex, but she couldn’t help laughing when he broke away, a desperate move that proved she’d almost had him.

“I’m not ready to be over,” he said.

“Are you sure? I was having a good time.”

“I noticed.” Urging her forward, he slid onto the chaise behind her, cradling her between his spread thighs.

He was all hard muscle and warm skin as he nestled her in the curve of his body. She felt surrounded by him, that hot erection pressing against her lower back, and she savored the feel of skin against skin, appreciated being together.

Miranda missed Troy when he was away, but somehow never so much as when he came home again. Only then could she allow herself the luxury of remembering how his strong arms felt around her, how his body sheltered her in its heat, how she felt loved and cherished and so glad they were together again.

She gave a sigh, and the sound turned into a purr as he slid a hand between her legs to coax the sensitive bundle of nerve endings from its hiding place. With her panty hose gone, Miranda enjoyed the full potency of his touch as Troy idly fondled her, coiling the tension inside until she parted her thighs to increase that drive-me-wild friction that was swiftly driving her wild.

He’d always had this sort of power over her, the ability to shoot her from zero to sixty with the perfect combination of intimacy and exploration. He knew what aroused her because he’d taken the time to learn, continued to learn, continued to share his likes and explore new pleasures with her.

Each time he returned from a mission, the process began over again. They reveled in being together. They appreciated the contrast of newness and familiarity. They pleased each other in ways only they could. And right now, with this blindfold, Miranda became more aware of his touches than ever before.

That tension wound tighter as he dragged his fingers through her damp heat, and she nestled back against him, feeling the solid warmth of him surround her. She was content in the knowledge that they still had another week to play out this fantasy together. Another week to enjoy the pleasures of being together again.

“Trust me?” he whispered close to her ear as he rested his chin on her shoulder, pressed a kiss into her hair.

“With all my heart.”

She’d been so preoccupied with her arousal that she hadn’t felt him move, so when the first icy droplet trickled between her legs, she gasped and tried to pull away.

“Surprise.” He nudged the tip against her aroused skin, a quick touch to test her response. “The see-through vibrator turned out to be a lot more.”

“What—” she sucked in another hard breath, eyelids blinking against the blindfold in a rebellious attempt to see “—is this? A water torture device?”

“A dual temperature vibrator.” Another quick nudge that made her sex contract wildly as the cold blasted her skin. “The extreme sensations are supposed to push you over the edge.”

“I’ll be over the edge of this chaise if you touch me with that thing again.”

“Sure you don’t want to give it a shot? You’re so hot that cooling down might feel good.” He used his cool fingers to up her temperature a few more degrees.

She might be hot, but when another droplet dripped onto her stomach and into her navel, Miranda jumped.

“How about this to help you decide?” Troy finally went for her bra, lifting the garment under her arms so her breasts tumbled free. He knew exactly how to arouse her, how to make her dissolve in his arms so she’d agree to anything.

And that was exactly what Miranda needed right now. She needed to abandon herself to arousal, wanted to drown out her thoughts with pleasure, so she couldn’t think of anything but the way he rolled her nipples into a frenzy of sensation. The way he swirled the vibrator around a tip. The way the condensation chilled her, shocking in intensity.

“How’s that?” he asked.

She took a few deep breaths, willed herself to relax enough to describe the feeling. As that ache speared through her, she realized that torture wasn’t an adequate description. “It’s…different.”

“Too much?”

She shook her head. “Just intense.”

Touching the tip to her other nipple, he shot the cold through her again, making her arch her back to press into his hands, to feed this icy ache.

With skilled fingers, Troy obliged. He warmed her skin with knowing touches, and hot pleasure radiated through her, a striking contrast to the cold, an intensity that made her realize exactly what she wanted.

Curling her fingers over his hand, Miranda guided his newest toy between her thighs. “Let’s try this.”

She started tentatively, testing the feel of that iciness, pausing to prepare herself for each touch.

“Still intense?” He glided the vibrator lightly along her in a channel of chilly condensation and warm skin.

“Mmm-hmm, but nice. In small doses.”

With the flick of a switch, he made the vibrator hum to life, the pulsation against her oh-so sensitive sex causing her to moan out loud. He rolled it against that bundle of nerves, a glancing caress that made her shiver.

“I like this.” He dragged his mouth over her throat in an openmouthed kiss and pressed the length of the vibrator between her thighs, catching her everywhere with that pulsating cold.

Miranda didn’t reply. She was too busy riding the sensation, and she wasn’t the only one. Troy ground his erection against her back, a demand that conveyed his need louder than words. Her pleasure brought him pleasure. What could be better?

Miranda could think of only one thing.

Scooting up on his lap, she arched her bottom until his erection rode forward. She didn’t have to say a word. He knew what she wanted. Slipping a hand between them, he maneuvered that hardness against her chilled skin, a hot length that sank inside with an unfamiliar force that stole her breath.

She was so tight and wet that he growled, a throaty rumble against her ear as he grasped his arms around her, gave a few driving thrusts that made her gasp. And that sexy device…he held it poised where she could feel it most, and condensation mingled chilly water with their body’s heat to create a powerful sensation that had her rocking back to meet his thrusts.

Only Troy could take her apart this way, could overwhelm her with his body, with his hunger, with his love. He indulged her, took his own enjoyment in her responses, and the simple honesty of his emotions, the overwhelming honesty urged her to reply in kind, to coax him into the same frenzy.

And Miranda could always satisfy her husband in bed. She was an accommodating wife, the perfect match to her equally accommodating husband.

So why had life become such a struggle?

The question sideswiped her, a rational thought that cut through her haze of pleasure, real. And the special connection they shared betrayed her. Troy must have sensed her hesitation, guessed she’d become distracted, because he suddenly slowed his pace to press hungry kisses along her neck.

She didn’t want anything to intrude on their time together, especially not thoughts that had no place in their bed. So arching her head back, she leaned into his touch, reassured by the feel of his mouth on her skin, the way he could turn unwanted doubts into breathless gasps.

His every stroke combined with the vibrator, so direct, so intense, so overwhelming, and she forced her focus onto the way her sex clenched in greedy reply, so close to the edge.

Holding her breath expectantly, she tried to knead her climax into breaking, wanting to lose herself in the ecstasy she knew in Troy’s arms, needing oblivion to drown out the thoughts racing inside her head.

But the sensation remained just beyond reach. Even though her body burned. Even though she wanted release so much that she clung to her husband and rode him with hard strokes. Even though she tried to crowd out the intruding thoughts by the strength of her will and the blinding force of their lovemaking.

Despite the effort, her oncoming orgasm evaporated like a mist beneath the sun. Within the space of a heartbeat, all her pleasure slipped away, leaving behind only a lingering warmth to mock her.

It was gone, and wouldn’t come back. No matter how hard Miranda willed herself to relax. No matter how far she’d already traveled toward fulfillment. No matter how she yearned to feel her husband’s hands on her. The moment was over no matter what Troy might do to arouse her again.

For one blind moment she thought about admitting her climax had gotten away. It happened. All couples faced an ebb and flow of arousal when they’d been together a while. This shouldn’t be a big deal, wouldn’t have been…

Except this wasn’t the first time.

2

TROY HAD MIRANDA on the verge of coming apart in his arms and then in an instant, he’d lost her. Bonelessness had yielded to stillness. Frenzied reactions had become deliberate.

He’d been making love to his wife for a long time and knew neither of them could always be on. Miranda knew that, too. But instead of giving him a chance to find other ways to arouse her or at least being honest about losing the mood, she’d distracted him. She’d kickstarted a rhythm he hadn’t been able to resist.

She’d pretended everything was all right.

It wasn’t. They had a problem here—more than one because she refused to acknowledge what was happening. He couldn’t be sure whether she was in denial or simply hiding the issue, but all the togetherness they were sharing on this vacation hadn’t succeeded in getting her to open up.

“Come here, Miranda.” He hoped she didn’t recognize his raw tone for the disappointment it was.

Threading his fingers around her waist, he helped her maneuver until he could pull her into his arms. She stretched out, her legs twined with his, their bodies pressed close so he could feel her smooth curves against him.

With a few tugs, he loosed the blindfold until he found himself staring into her sultry blue eyes, a gaze that could be polished and cool or so alive with pleasure. Her expression was shadowed now, unreadable, as if she shielded her thoughts behind an invisible wall. He thumbed her cheek, a touch he hoped conveyed his yearning, the pleasure he felt to be with her again.

“I love you, Miranda.” He moved in for a kiss, and his mouth caught hers, his tongue sweeping inside to prove he meant what he said.

He loved her, for better or worse, always.

Miranda snuggled close and returned his kiss with a longing that might have surprised him if he’d missed what had just happened. But he felt her restlessness now, sensed her need for reassurance, even if he didn’t know what she needed to be reassured about. He couldn’t understand what was happening with her, why she’d gone from hot to cold, unless she talked to him. She wasn’t and that bothered him. A lot.

When they finally broke their kiss, he leaned back against the chaise. “I just want to lie here and hold you for a while.”

“Your wish is my command, Lieutenant Commander.”

He wished she would tell him what was wrong. But he wasn’t going to ask again. The last time he’d tried to get her talking, she’d only given him a bunch of evasions. Then she’d retreated behind her perfect wife persona—exactly what she was doing now.

She seemed blissfully unaware of anything but this chance to snuggle. Pressing her face against his shoulder, she let her eyes flutter closed and skimmed her lips along his throat, a natural, unconscious gesture that at any other time might have made him smile.

He wasn’t smiling now, and as he held her, Troy considered his options. She’d been on edge ever since they’d started this vacation. He’d attributed her mood to logistics. Niagara Falls was her hometown, and a vacation to Falling Inn Bed meant close quarters with her estranged cousin, the woman hosting the Naughty Nuptials. Add that to watching her parents gear up for an election and dealing with the antics of her big-hearted, too-wild sister, and Troy thought he’d understood why she’d had them holing up inside the Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid instead of running all around town to visit with family and friends.

But Troy had been wrong.

Suddenly everything made sense. Miranda had been trying to reassure him that everything was okay, trying to distract him from what he knew in his gut—they were in trouble. But she’d plastered a smile on her face and pretended that everything was fine.

Like she’d just done while making love.

And when Troy thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d initiated sex. He’d been doing the honors on this vacation. He couldn’t remember back before his latest deployment. How long had this been going on?

He probably wouldn’t like the answer, but he was glad she’d chosen distraction over faking an orgasm.

That would have hurt.

Burying his face in her curls, he inhaled deeply of her scent, so feminine and all Miranda. With only a week left of their holiday, he needed to reevaluate his game plan. Once they headed home, their lives would be full of commitment and routine. It would be all too easy for her to hide, and then he’d get orders and head out again.

He needed to get Miranda to share what was on her mind now, while they had only each other to focus on, so they could figure out what was happening and how to deal with it.

He wouldn’t let this go on any longer.

She’d had her chance to fess up. He was done with evasions, done watching his wife retreat behind that persona she wore in public.

He wouldn’t let her get away with it anymore. Confrontation would be a tactical error that would only put her on the defensive. No, he had to start pushing, but he had to push purposefully, quietly.

As if sensing his resolve, Miranda nestled closer and gave a small sigh, her mouth parting around the soft sound. She had a kissing mouth, a mouth that smiled with such dazzling perfection that he always wanted to tease her until she couldn’t resist brushing those moist lips against him.

Her mouth had been the first thing he’d noticed about her. Miranda was the kind of beautiful that made men stupid. He vividly recalled how his fellow officers who had toured her college group through their naval base had made asses of themselves over her.

Troy might have gotten stupid, too, had it not been for her too-cool composure that had challenged him. He could still remember how her self-possessed smiles had dared him to make her laugh, or frown. He’d wondered what it would take to get her to let her hair down.

And make her sigh with pleasure.

Troy had sensed they were a pair. Two people with adventurous souls. He’d been raised without limits while Miranda had been taught to keep her sense of adventure reined tight. With her high-power family, she’d honed her public persona to a sharp edge, but beneath that composure beat a light heart. He’d wanted to be the man to help her discover that part of herself, and he’d always tried to be supportive.

But no more.

He wouldn’t sit around and wait for Miranda to come clean. She’d had her chance. Too many chances. He wouldn’t let her slip away without a fight.

He wouldn’t let her slip away. Period.

MIRANDA HAD STARTED the morning off with high hopes of enjoying a relaxing day with Troy. No Naughty Nuptials events. No visits with family or friends.

She should have known better.

Crashing and burning on the way to an orgasm clearly wasn’t enough to deal with this morning. Now a phone call from her sister pitched her day from bad to worse, and she was this close to declaring mutiny and abandoning ship on this whole vacation.

Settling the telephone back on the cradle, she cocked a hip against the desk and stared out into the courtyard, flooded with sunlight from the glass ceiling. What appeared to be a bright day in the Egyptian Pleasure Pyramid’s oasis didn’t feel anything but gloomy and dismal.

Troy emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate. “Lunch. I made enough for us both.”

His man-size sandwich surrounded by a mound of pickles and tortilla chips almost made her smile. “Thanks. But I’m not hungry just now.” Her appetite had gone the way of her orgasm.

“So what’s up with your sister?” He arranged his meal on the table.

“Victoria wants me to meet her in the photojournalist’s room so she can talk to me. Laura Granger will be there.”

“Laura, why?” He sounded surprised, and she wasn’t sure why. They were dealing with her younger sister here, a woman who lived life to throw monkey wrenches in situations just to see what happened.

“She didn’t say.”

Meeting with the photojournalist wasn’t a problem. But Laura Granger? Her estranged cousin was about the last person Miranda wanted to meet with any day—especially a day that had taken such a downhill turn. She was already scrambling not to let her vanishing orgasm spoil her mood.

Maybe Victoria could ignore the longtime rift between their family and Laura’s. She was the only one, though. People in this town always paid close attention whenever Fords and Grangers came together, and personally, Miranda couldn’t see what was so fascinating.

Their mothers were sisters. So what if Laura was the daughter of a rebel socialite who had abandoned her family to run off with an artist? That only proved Laura’s mother cared more about herself than the needs of her family.

Good riddance, as far as Miranda was concerned.

“Well, I suppose it’s to be expected,” she said. “I knew I’d have to deal with the whole family issue when I let you talk me into getting married at Laura Granger’s hotel.”

She couldn’t lament that choice now. If she hadn’t agreed to have the wedding here, then they’d never have been invited back as the Hottest Honeymoon Couple. She’d wanted a fantasy wedding and vacation. Now she would pay the price.

“You let me talk you into getting married here because you knew this place would be fun.” Troy dropped a pickle back onto the plate, leaned back and shot her a sober look. “And you knew if you went along, I’d make it worth your while. I’ve held up my end of the deal.”

That wasn’t a question, and Miranda’s heart sighed at the memory of the easier time in their lives and how well he’d held up his end of the deal. A wedding night in the exotic Roman Bagnio suite where they’d soaked naked in the baths. Three weeks touring the Hawaiian Islands where they’d made love on their own private beach during sunrises and sunsets.

He’d been living up to his end of the deal. No question.

“Perhaps the Naughty Nuptials wasn’t such a great idea,” she admitted. “Maybe we should have gone someplace where we didn’t know anyone for our vacation.”

“Done deal. Besides, we’ve been so busy with these events that you haven’t had much time to spend with anyone but me. I’m surprised your family and friends haven’t beaten down the door.”

“Everyone knows we’re here for the grand opening. And we deserve some time together.”

“Agreed, but I expected to do some sharing. You haven’t been home in six months. People want to see you.”

“Like Victoria and Laura Granger,” she said dryly. “I would assume this has something to do with Hottest Honeymoons, but if so, why would she only invite me? I wonder if this has something to do with her engagement.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“What else can I be, Troy? My sister’s involved with Laura Granger and engaged to a man she just met. This is even more insane than her usual insanity.”

“Could be worse. She could have run off to Vegas to live with Adam.”

No argument there. But the whole situation was so classic Victoria that it was hard to be objective. “Who knows if that wedding will ever take place? They might decide they don’t like each other once they become acquainted.”

“Maybe, maybe not. They know they’re in love. What more do they need to know?”

There was a soft quality to his voice, a sound that implied he’d be equally insane for her. Not so long ago that admission would have melted her heart, but now…now it reminded her she hadn’t been living up to her end of the deal.

“I guess I should get this over with.” She had better things to expend her energy on—like figuring out how to keep her worries out of the bedroom for the rest of their vacation.

“I’ll come with you,” Troy said.

She turned to find him leaving the table. “I appreciate it, but finish your lunch. I won’t be long.”

“I’ve been waiting four months to be with you. I don’t want to waste more time if I can help it.”

“I like when we’re together.”

“Me, too, Mrs. Knight. Me, too.”

And as she watched him cross the room to return his plate to the kitchen, she saw the determination in his long strides, knew he wanted to be with her because he recognized that she dreaded this visit.

That was Troy, solid, there. Even when they were physically apart, he tried to stay involved and supportive. She appreciated the effort. But lately that closeness let him sense she was off, despite her best efforts to reassure him.

She simply had to pull herself together so she could get on with the important things in life…like enjoying together time with her husband on a fantasy vacation that most couples only dreamed of.

Making her way into the bedroom, Miranda refreshed her makeup, and Troy soon followed, heading into the bathroom with the promise, “I’ll take a fast shower.”

“Fine.” She glanced into the mirror where she found a stranger staring back.

Who was this woman who had let worry chase away another orgasm?

Miranda didn’t know.

She’d always been a capable, accomplished woman who had no trouble achieving what she put her mind to. Public speaking. Spearheading a variety of volunteer fund-raisers. Graduating from college cum laude. Whenever she set a goal, she learned the skills necessary to accomplish the job then did it. No problem.

She’d fallen in love, gotten married and planned to be the perfect wife. She’d intended to accompany Troy on his tours, support his career and keep the home fires burning while he was on duty.

She’d understood the responsibilities involved, knew what it would take to support a man with a power career, and was willing to do the job. She’d learned from the best—her mother handled the demanding role of politician’s wife with grace and ease. Miranda had felt eager and ready for her future as Troy’s wife.

It had never occurred to her that she couldn’t transition her skills into military life.

But that’s exactly what was happening.

Dropping the lipstick into her purse, she glanced down at the dresser where Troy’s wallet sat neatly beside his watch and the suite’s keycard. His organizational skills were a side effect of his upbringing, a tangible reminder of how different he was from any man she’d ever known.

If Miranda didn’t love him so much, she might not feel so badly right now. But she did love him enough that she desperately needed to figure out how to deal with the situation before he found out life was exploding in her face back home.

The memory of her latest failure hit her fast and hard, and humiliation came as white-hot and excruciating as it had during her latest attempt to make a place for herself with the wives of Troy’s peers. Closing her eyes, Miranda couldn’t face herself in the mirror when she remembered taking her turn as hostess for their monthly tea.

I want the event to be special, she’d told the local florist. So let’s go with a springtime theme to celebrate April showers and May flowers.

She remembered standing in the doorway of the clubhouse to survey the effect, found herself pleased with the result. Tables had been decorated with colorful floral arrangements, sparkling glassware and a variety of goodies catered by a well-known teahouse she’d heard many of the women rave over.

She wanted to make a good impression—the officers’ wives were a tight network on this naval base, a support system through the steady rounds of “hails and farewells,” bosses’ nights and unaccompanied tours. Through them, she could learn the social dos and don’ts to help further Troy’s career.

For some reason, her infiltration into their ranks hadn’t been smooth, and she’d wanted this tea to bridge the distance. She remembered smiling while gazing around that beautifully decorated room.

And she’d still been smiling when she’d donated every last finger sandwich to a local ministry because none of her guests had shown up. Not one. The women had made their point that day—they wouldn’t accept her no matter what she did to fit in.

Opening her eyes, Miranda forced herself to meet her reflection, to acknowledge that this hadn’t been her first failure, though it definitely qualified as her most spectacular. She’d dubbed those women the witchy wives that day, and refused, absolutely refused, to let them make her life miserable. But despite that vow, she’d begun dreading the orders that took Troy away. When he left, she felt stranded across the country from friends and family.

And from Troy.

Even worse was that she couldn’t discuss the problem with Troy. Wouldn’t discuss it. Early in their marriage he’d made it clear he expected her to handle what came up while he was gone, trusted her to deal with their domestic life.

Funny, but she remembered that debacle almost as clearly as hosting the officers’ wives tea.

Things had seemed pretty simple and straightforward at the time. Her car had needed some expensive repairs, and the dealer had recommended trading it in on a newer model rather than pouring money into hers. She agreed but had wanted Troy’s input before signing off on a three-year loan.

She’d tried to contact him for several days via their usual lines of communications, but when she didn’t hear back from him, she’d assumed he was out of touch on a mission. Since the situation hadn’t been an emergency, she’d done the next best thing and sent him a telegram.

What she hadn’t realized was that her telegram would be handled by a lot of people on its way to Troy.

Everyone from the telegram messenger and the chaplain to his unit commander and team members had learned the details of her transportation situation. Troy’s response had been equally simple and straightforward—deal with it.

She’d never meant to embarrass him and had learned a valuable lesson. Her husband was in special operations and didn’t need to be distracted with minutiae. Distractions risked a lot more than a disgruntled client or a lost account. Troy’s life hung in the balance of his job performance, along with the lives of his teammates and their mission objectives.

If Troy had any idea how badly the situation had degenerated at home, he’d be worrying about her while trying to work. She refused to let that happen. Not for a bunch of witchy women who shouldn’t be bothering her.

But they were. For some reason their rejection had made her doubt herself. She should be above their petty rudeness, but she’d started questioning whether she was cut out for the military, if her upbringing and family name had paved her way by making life too easy.

She’d been a big fish in the little pond of Niagara Falls. She’d never considered the obstacles she might encounter as a little fish in a big pond. But she was facing them now.

And had vowed to overcome them.

She would keep the home fires burning so Troy could look forward to returning home to a wife who couldn’t wait for him to get there. She would keep her worries out of their bed while on this fantasy vacation.

She just wished the job didn’t feel quite so big.

3

MIRANDA WOULD SAY one thing—Laura Granger had created a fantasy with her Wedding Wing. As she and Troy headed toward the elevator to take them down to the third floor, she couldn’t help but marvel at the grandeur of this new addition.

She would never have guessed the oddball girl who’d been a constant irritation during school would be responsible for breathing life back into this old hotel.

As Laura had always been the one lurking in the shadows, Miranda couldn’t help but think how life had reversed their positions. Laura stood in the spotlight of her grand opening, while Miranda had come on this vacation to escape.

Slipping her fingers through Troy’s, she took comfort in his touch and tried to shake this contemplative mood.

She was thinking again.

As always, Troy proved a great distraction. When the elevator deposited them on the third floor, he slipped his arm around her and pulled her close for a quick kiss before directing her to the room where the photojournalist had set up headquarters during the grand opening.

Miranda couldn’t imagine what the man had cooked up with her sister and Laura Granger. Tyler Tripp might be acclaimed for his work, but he was also thoroughly disreputable looking, exactly the sort of more-tattoos-than-college-credits type of man her sister typically got involved with. Given their shared interest in journalism, Miranda couldn’t believe Victoria had hooked up with ultraprofessional Adam Grant instead.

“All set?” Troy asked when they arrived at the room.

“Showtime.”

He knocked. Taking a deep breath, Miranda steeled herself as the door opened, but to her surprise, Tyler wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Only Victoria.

“Thanks for coming.” Her sister resembled their mother in appearance with her bright red hair and fair skin, but the similarities ended there. Victoria’s enthusiasm was all her own.

“Not a problem that I came, too, is it?” Troy asked.

Wrapping her arms around Troy’s neck, Victoria gave him a hug. “Of course not. You’re my favorite bro-in-law.”

He was Victoria’s only brother-in-law, as they all well knew, but Troy clearly appreciated the welcome. So did Miranda. She forced a smile.

Laura Granger waited inside, and she didn’t look nearly as enthusiastic to see them. They’d grown up disliking each other. Laura was everything Miranda wasn’t—tall and slim with white-blond hair, pale blue eyes and luminous skin. Given the way their families led separate lives, comparisons were inevitable. Given their differences, disliking those comparisons was also inevitable.

And people in their town were fascinated by a prominent family that had split down the middle. While Miranda had the benefit of hailing from the still respectable and affluent side of the family, Laura had suffered her family’s fall from grace with not much to define her but her stunning looks and ambitious academic marks. She’d been out of her league with the other students at prestigious Westfalls Academy.

Add Victoria to the mix now, with her glorious hair and come-hither smiles, and it might explain why Miranda suddenly felt like the runt of the litter.

“Nice to see you both.” With her smile firmly in place, Laura was in full hospitality management mode. “Thanks for meeting with us on your day off.”

“So what’s up?” Miranda directed her question to her sister, eager to get this ball rolling. The sooner they got to the point, the sooner she could deal with the fallout and get on with her day. And there would be fallout. After a lifetime of dealing with Victoria, she knew there was always fallout.

“I’m here to sell you on an idea, big sis.” She gestured them to the sofa while heading toward the desk and Laura. “Sit. Would you like anything to drink?”

Shaking her head, Miranda sat beside Troy, who nudged his knee against hers as if to say, “This should be interesting.”

No doubt. “Might I ask why you invited me to Tyler’s room when he doesn’t seem to be around? Is this about Hottest Honeymoons?”

“Not exactly,” Victoria said. “We wanted neutral turf. When you came to the Wedding Knight Suite, I thought you were going to have a heart attack.” She glanced back at Laura. “The rack. She thinks I’m a closet dominatrix.”

Laura only inclined her head, but her amused expression irked Miranda. Yes, the pornographic sex device that comprised a whole wall in Victoria’s suite had surprised her, but when had these two become such good friends that they discussed her?

Miranda refused to ask. What they did on their own time wasn’t her concern—unless their actions started the town talking again. Her mother didn’t need the stress right now. Not while dealing with Victoria’s unexpected engagement.

“We could have used Laura’s office,” Victoria explained. “But I wasn’t sure I could get you there. So we begged a favor from Tyler—” she swept an arm around to encompass the tastefully decorated guestroom “—and here we are.”

“There’s a method to our madness, too,” Laura added. “What we want to show you is on Tyler’s computer.”

“Really? Now I’m curious.”

“Me, too,” Troy said. “Why don’t you start the show?”

Laura sat down behind the desk and slanted the monitor toward them. She clicked the mouse to bring up an image of formally dressed guests in what could have been one of many grand opening functions that had taken place over the past two weeks.

“All right,” Victoria said. “But give me a chance to explain everything before you blast our idea out of the water, would you, big sis?”

Our idea?

The thought of Victoria and Laura Granger colluding over anything was enough to send a cold chill up Miranda’s spine. But she nodded, willing to agree to just about anything if her sister—who was dragging out the suspense as usual—would get a move on. “Why are you even making the effort if you’re so sure I’m going to disapprove?”

“You know me. Hope springs eternal.” Her sister gave a laugh, which transformed Laura’s hospitality-perfect veneer into a worried frown.

Curiouser and curiouser. There was a lot going on between these two if she read the signals right.

Cocking a hip against the desk, Victoria folded her arms. “When I was first assigned to cover the Naughty Nuptials, I put all the family history on the table to get any questions of bias out of the way. This got me and Laura talking about what really happened to cause the trouble between her mother and Grandfather all those years ago.”

That trouble, as Victoria called it, had caused their grandfather to disown his oldest daughter and had instigated a family rift that had lasted decades.

Leaning back against Troy, Miranda settled in for the long haul. Judging by her sister’s excitement, she intended to play this for all it was worth.

“Got it,” Miranda prompted. “So you two rehashed past history. I won’t ask why.”

“It’s irrelevant, anyway. What is relevant is that we decided we needed to find out what really happened. So we’ve been talking to Aunt Suzanne and Mother.”

Aunt Suzanne? When had Laura Granger’s mother become Aunt Suzanne?

“I’ll have you know that Mother was very forthcoming with me,” Victoria continued. “Aunt Suzanne, too. And in getting both sides of the story, Laura and I learned that there are some really big questions about our family history.”

“What sort of questions?” she asked.

“Like how come we were told our grandmother was English.”

From the corner of her eye, Miranda caught sight of Troy’s frown and supplied the reason. “Because she was English. Mother said she came to America from England after they married.”

“She told me the same thing.”

“So did my mom,” Laura added.

“And you’re saying she didn’t?” These two had to be off their rockers. She couldn’t vouch for Aunt Suzanne, but Miranda knew her mother would never mislead them about the parent she’d lost in a car accident while still a very young child.

“As far as they’re concerned, our grandmother did come from England,” Laura explained. “Tori and I haven’t told them what we’ve found out yet.”

“What’s that?” Troy threaded his fingers through Miranda’s, a silent show of support.

“Grandfather said he’d met our grandmother during the war and married her before they came back to the United States. Well, I’ve been doing some investigating and couldn’t find a thing about his marriage to Laura Russell. I got curious, so I looked into her immigration records. If she was a British citizen, she had to have papers to get into this country.”

Victoria met her gaze with an expression positively alive with excitement. “Laura Russell doesn’t seem to have existed until she appeared in the good old U.S. of A, fully grown and married to our grandfather.”

“I should add that Tori had to dig for this information.” Laura gave a tight laugh. “I’m still waiting for Interpol to show up in the lobby.”

“Pshaw.” Her sister waved a dismissive hand. “Have a little faith, please. We’re talking immigration here. I didn’t have to dig that deep. Besides, I happen to be good at what I do. No problems, trust me.”

Trusting Victoria was enough to strike terror in the bravest of souls, and Miranda was surprised Laura recognized it. “Exactly what did you learn? Our grandmother must have existed or the three of us wouldn’t be here right now. Will you please tell us before you wind up in prison?”

“Oh, our grandmother existed, all right,” Victoria said. “Only she wasn’t English. She was a French citizen. Her name was Laure Roussell not Laura Russell.”

Miranda wasn’t at all sure what to make of this revelation, except that she could tell by her sister’s expression that she was serious. “Victoria, that’s crazy.”

“I have documentation to prove it.”

“Can you possibly be mistaken?”

“Not a chance. Grandfather’s name is on the marriage certificate.”

“And you don’t think Mother knows?”

She shook her head and Laura agreed. “My mom, either. She named me after our grandmother. I’m Laura. No question there.”

Troy looked as puzzled as Miranda felt. “If your information is accurate, then the question here would be why. Why would your grandmother hide her French ancestry? And why wouldn’t the senator tell his daughters?”

“That’s the mystery,” Laura said. “And since we’re pretty sure our moms don’t know, we didn’t want to start asking questions. Not until we have some idea of what this is about.”

Miranda tried to digest this information. Their grandfather had been an Army commander during World War II, had even been decorated after being captured by the enemy and leading many of his men in a daring escape.

She knew he rarely, if ever, discussed the war, and any media inquiries were always met with a stony “No comment.” His handlers had spun his silence to make him look like a humble man who’d done his job and didn’t feel comfortable with accolades.

“If Grandfather kept our grandmother’s heritage a secret, then it must be a secret that needs to be kept,” Miranda said. “Victoria, you know as well as I do that Grandfather would never sidestep this kind of information without good reason.”

“I agree,” Troy said. “The senator wouldn’t risk the publicity if word ever leaked out. If you were able to uncover the information, no doubt other reporters could, too.”

“Laura and I discussed that,” Victoria said. “We believe everything looks nice and neat on the surface so no one will have any reason to dig into our grandmother’s past. She died a long time ago. Before Grandfather became a senator.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” Miranda meant it. “What if all this investigating raises unnecessary interest? You’re a reporter. You know better than anyone how this could blow up in our faces. With Father up for reelection, the media would have a field day with this. And if Mother doesn’t know…”

“It’s a chance we’ll have to take.” Victoria’s frown made the hair on the back of Miranda’s neck prickle.

Laura nodded. “If we want to fix things.”

“What do you want to fix?” Troy eyed them curiously as he slipped his arm around her.

“Our family,” Victoria said. “We need to find out what happened so we can figure out how to solve the problem and bring our families back together again.”

Why was Miranda even surprised? This was her sister they were talking about here, with Laura Granger tossed into the mix. A crazy combination no matter how she came at it. “What do you mean fix our family? What makes you think anyone wants to be fixed? I mean, if you two want to play nice, then have at it—”

“Not us, big sis.”

Miranda barely got a chance to brace herself before Laura said, “Our mothers.”

“They haven’t talked for decades and seem content with the arrangement.” She tried to sound reasonable, but didn’t quite manage. These two had lost their minds. “What on earth makes you think that’s likely to change?”

“Take a look at this.” With a few maneuvers of the mouse and some blips and beeps, Laura enlarged the pImages** on the computer monitor to reveal two familiar faces.

Miranda had honestly never realized how much her mother and Laura’s looked alike. Her brief interactions with Aunt Suzanne, mostly at Westfalls Academy where the woman had once worked, had left Miranda with the memory of long dark hair and a wardrobe that favored comfort over style.

But while the woman wore long skirts and a minimum of makeup, a closer examination revealed Laura’s mother to be as striking as Miranda’s own.

The hair was different. The features were different, yet so much about the fine-boned face was the same…the soft full mouth…the deep blue eyes…the aching look that made her face seem raw.

And her own mother…Miranda barely recognized her anguish. She’d watched her mother conduct press conferences filled with rabid reporters and not flinch, but here her expression openly wore the weight of too many years.

“Guess what they were looking at,” Laura said.

“Each other.” Victoria’s voice was soft, affected in a way Miranda had never heard her before. “Tyler caught them on film. Can anything be worth this sort of heartache?”

Miranda didn’t know what to say. Seeing this only drove home how right she’d been to worry about her mother.

When Miranda had married, Troy had been stationed in Virginia, close enough for her to return home for frequent visits. But not long into their marriage, he’d received orders to the naval base in San Diego. She simply couldn’t make it home as often, and her mother had lost an important part of her support system.

Miranda knew because she’d felt the loss, too.

Victoria was more concerned with her own life than she’d ever been with their family. And given their prominence around town, her mother simply didn’t have many friends she could trust or confide in. Certainly not many who understood the stresses of her position in a political family.

But even more concerning was what could happen if the reason for their grandfather’s secrecy turned out to be some scandal. Miranda disliked airing personal business in front of Laura Granger, but as Victoria had chosen to collude with the woman…

“Mother doesn’t need this sort of stress right now. Neither does Father. His opponents will be looking for anything they can find to crucify him with. Even some old mystery. If Mother wanted to talk to Aunt Suzanne, don’t you think she’d pick up the phone and call her?”

Laura shook her head, her hospitality-perfect expression fading behind a thoughtful look. “I don’t. I think our moms are behaving exactly like they’ve been expected to behave.”

“As who’s expecting them to behave?” Troy didn’t give Miranda a chance to ask as he leaned in close.

“The senator,” Laura said. “When he and my mom had it out all those years ago, he told her to choose between her family and my father. She made her choice, and he disowned her. They were very young and the situation was cut-and-dried. He expected my mom to stay away and Miranda and Tori’s mom not have any contact. That’s exactly what they’ve been doing.”

Victoria finally lifted her gaze from the monitor where their mother’s face stared back with that haunted expression. “I’m not convinced that’s what they want. Look at Mother, Miranda. If this is really what she wanted, would she hurt like this after so many years?”

“You’re not a mind-reader, Victoria. You can’t know that’s what’s happening here.”

“No, I can’t,” she agreed. “But I don’t need to be inside her head to know she’s lonely and sad. Isn’t it worth at least a shot? With you living across the country, and me moving to Las Vegas, wouldn’t you feel better knowing she has someone she cares about in her life again?”

Miranda wasn’t sure what surprised her more—her sister’s conviction or her insight into their mother’s situation. She’d honestly thought Victoria didn’t pay attention to what went on in their family. But looking at her sister now…well, she could see that Victoria cared.

Unfortunately caring didn’t mean her sister would act in a fashion that wouldn’t stir up talk about the family, and getting a Ford and a Granger together would stir up talk. “Do you think Grandfather will just smile and wish them well?”

“I don’t know what Grandfather will do. But I’m willing to bet if this family bands together, Mother and Aunt Suzanne won’t have to spend the rest of their lives pretending they don’t want to see each other to please a selfish old man.”

Her vehemence left Miranda momentarily speechless, giving Laura a chance to stand and circle the desk. “I don’t want to see your family in an awkward position. But I think Tori’s right about this. If we pull together, we can change things. We’ve all been acting how we were expected to act. You and I are living proof.”

Troy squeezed her hand and she knew he was gauging her reaction, but she wouldn’t give any of them a reaction.

Trying to bridge the rift between their families could only stir up trouble, and that’s not what she wanted for her mother right now. This craziness would only wind up ticking off their grandfather once and for all, getting Victoria disowned, and then her mother would have to contend with splitting her loyalties between her father and daughter. And Miranda would be clear across the country and not much help.

“What are you talking about, Laura?” she asked. “We’re proof of what?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately.” Laura sounded thoughtful. “When I think about our years at Westfalls, I realize I didn’t dislike you because of who you were. I honestly never made an effort to know you. But I hated being compared to you and always coming out on the short end.”

As much as Miranda hated to admit it, she could relate. Their families were as different as caviar and peanut butter, and being from the caviar side might have afforded her the benefits of wealth and privilege, but along with those benefits came some responsibilities. Public visibility and living up to the standards that generations before her had established were only two of them. Another was pleasing her grandfather.

She sensed Troy drinking this all in. Aside from an overview of family history, she’d never explained the details of her relationship with Laura Granger. As far as she was concerned, Laura was past history, but he couldn’t miss there was more water under this bridge than he knew.

“What is it you want from Miranda?” he asked.

“This is the first time we’re all together since Westfalls Academy,” Victoria said earnestly. “The first time Mother and Aunt Suzanne have been in the same room in years. Come the end of the week, Naughty Nuptials will be over. We’ll all go back to living our separate lives. We won’t get this chance again, and if there’s any way we can solve this problem, I think we should try. Since Miranda’s a part of the family, she should be involved.”

“What about talking to the senator?” he said. “Because Miranda’s right, you don’t want to raise any red flags with your investigation. Who knows what might crop up.”

Victoria gave a huff of exasperation. “I agree with you, bro-in-law, but do you honestly think he’ll tell us what we want to know when he hasn’t even told his daughters?”

In a normal family, Troy’s suggestion would have been a good one. In the Knight family, simple communication would have done the trick. But Miranda didn’t come from a normal family. Her grandfather was a very strong-willed, very stern man. In fact, she had a really hard time imagining any of them—for all their bravado—confronting him about secrets from his past.

Miranda met Troy’s gaze and squeezed his hand to let him know how much she appreciated his efforts to run interference with these two schemers.

“Why don’t we just talk to our respective mothers and encourage them to get together,” she suggested. “If they want to, they will. If not, no harm no foul. They’ll think we’ve all lost our minds, but no one will wind up in an awkward position. You’re right in one regard, Laura. I don’t really know you, but I assume you don’t want this town to start gossiping about your parents again.”

“Of course not,” she said. “But I do think we need to put the past behind us if we can.”

“You’re looking for a miracle.”

A slow, easy smile spread across her face. “It so happens that we specialize in miracles at Falling Inn Bed.”

“Forgive me, Laura, but you specialize in sex,” Miranda said, squelching her impatience. “You might pretty it up like you did in my suite, but I saw the dungeon Victoria’s staying in.”

Her sister laughed. “It was the rack. I told you.”

Miranda only stared at the two of them, uncomfortable with being the object of their amusement.

“Ladies, would you mind explaining how you plan to avoid raising red flags?” Troy asked.

Victoria launched into a breathless account of how they would delve into their grandparents’ lives, and if anyone got interested—which she was sure they wouldn’t—then they’d just pretend to be tracing their genealogy.

As Miranda listened to her sister and Laura, she agreed their plan might yield the answers they were looking for without inviting any interest from the press. But she wasn’t willing to take that chance. Not when they had no idea what they might find.

Before she had a chance to make her argument, though, Troy said, “I can help out with the records. It’s going to be tough to find out about the senator’s orders during his military career, but I’ve got some access. I should be able to get basic information.”

For a space of a heartbeat, Miranda could only stare up at her husband.

He was offering to help?

She recognized his determination to assist in this plan, despite her attempts to convince these two otherwise.

“This is a family situation, Miranda,” he said. “And I’m family. I don’t mind helping if it will get us some answers without cluing anyone in to what we’re doing.”

She still couldn’t manage anything more than a stare, so he leaned close and whispered for her alone, “Damage control.”

“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite bro-in-law.” Victoria launched forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re hired. So what about you, big sis? Are you on board, too?”

All gazes turned to her, and it was then that she finally realized what was happening.

She was getting dragged into this madness whether she wanted to or not.

4

MIRANDA WILLED HERSELF to smile graciously as Laura suggested they meet in her suite later for dinner to officially begin their investigation.

“We’ll make my room headquarters and discuss how best to proceed,” she said.

“Good idea,” Victoria agreed. “You’ll like the Castaway Honeymoon Isle, Miranda. No perverted sex toys in there. It’s tasteful, like your suite.”

Right. Tasteful seemed sort of irrelevant when they were about to cross long-drawn lines with this scheme to bring the Fords and the Grangers together. All the nuances of the situation hadn’t hit her yet, but they would as soon as she had a chance to think about what they were about to do. At the moment, the whole situation just felt strange.

Even her husband felt like a stranger. He’d leaped feetfirst into this investigation even as she tried to dissuade her sister from investigating. He must have thought he was helping, but it wouldn’t be the first time he expected her to handle her family the way he would have handled his own.

But the Fords were nothing like the rambunctious Knights. The six Knight siblings always made holiday get-togethers feel like the inside of a hurricane tunnel. Her mother-in-law reveled in having family around and encouraged her children to have fun and make memories.

Miranda loved her in-laws, but she couldn’t deny the activity level sometimes overwhelmed her. Those times she sought out her father-in-law, an admiral, who always seemed like the calm in the middle of a storm.

She couldn’t deal with her family the same way she and Troy dealt with his, and most of the time, he understood that.

But how could she argue his point now?

Victoria plus Laura Granger equaled trouble and the situation required damage control. Like it or not. And yet…had Troy backed her up when it counted, she might have put a stop to this craziness.

After they said their goodbyes, she and Troy left the photojournalist’s room, but once inside the elevator, she brushed his hand from the control panel and depressed the lobby button.

“We’re not going back to our suite?” he asked.

“No, the spa.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel the need for a relaxing soak in the whirlpool. Or the sauna, if you prefer.” She needed to clear her head and make some sense of what had just happened.

Troy narrowed his gaze. “You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“No?” He arched a brow, a skeptical look that at any other time might have earned a smile from her. His striking green eyes contrasted sharply with his blond hair and tanned skin, making even a glance potent. “If you’re not angry, what are you?”

Miranda considered her answer as the elevator came to a stop and unloaded them in the Wedding Wing lobby, in full view of the Mireille Marceaux painting showcased in a display. “I’m amazed Laura managed the loan of this painting from Westfalls.”

He frowned.

“I’m not discussing your defection here in the lobby, Troy.” She wouldn’t discuss it at all until she’d had a chance to gather her thoughts.

“My defection?”

She ignored him and looked up at The Falling Woman. The stunning redhead and the surrounding forest gleamed in mist from the falls. The sheer veil she draped over her body poured over her like a waterfall, enhancing rather than covering the curves below. Miranda could make out a hint of blush-colored nipples, the triangle of glossy hair between her thighs.

“Laura told us her mother pulled some strings to arrange the loan,” Troy finally said. “Since her mother worked at your school, I don’t see what’s so amazing.”

“Laura’s shown considerable business savvy by using this painting to generate local interest in her grand opening.”

Troy led her across the lobby, staring up at the painting as if he couldn’t figure out what the fuss was all about. “Because of the mystery surrounding the artist?”

“Her mystery has become legend around here.”

A French painter from the middle of the last century, Mireille Marceaux had been known for her erotic oil paintings and sketches, although posthumously her landscapes had earned renown as well. After her unexpected death, she’d bequeathed the bulk of her estate to Westfalls Academy. The legend involved her mysterious connection to the academy and the Niagara Falls area.

“The Falling Woman is erotic art,” Miranda explained. “When my mother was in school, Westfalls administration wouldn’t acknowledge the existence of anything but the landscapes.”

“Understandable for the time. But I don’t think this painting is considered too risqué by today’s standards.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.