Julie Kenner - Undercover Lovers

“It’s lovely,” Tori said, apparently getting into their roles.

The woman’s gaze dipped first to Tori’s fingers, then his, and Carter cringed, realizing what was coming. “Did you decide not to exchange rings?”

Damn it. He’d left the rings in his suitcase. It hadn’t occurred to him to pull them out just to run into the tourist office.

“Can you believe his brother lost them?” Tori said, jumping in to cover for him. She leaned forward, bringing this stranger into her confidence. “I was furious, of course.” Then she turned and aimed a smile so wide and sweet in Carter’s direction that it was all he could do to not crack up right there. “But I don’t need a ring. Just my husband.”

“Oh, wow. That’s so sweet. I would have been spitting mad.”

“She was,” Carter said.

“True enough,” Tori agreed. “And I’ve got one heck of a temper.” Again, that innocent look. Only this time he detected a hint of warning. “Don’t I, sweetie?”

“She certainly does.”

“Still,” the woman continued, “I never would have—”

“About those hotels…” Carter interrupted. He stroked Tori’s shoulder with a fingertip, amused when she shivered under his touch. Probably holding back a wave of that infamous temper.

“Sure thing.” The woman pulled out a binder about three inches thick, then flipped to a tab marked Lodging. “I think a bed-and-breakfast would be the most romantic, don’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“Perfect,” Carter said.

Ten minutes later they were registered for the honeymoon package at a five room B and B on the beach. Carter even had a card for a local jeweler tucked into his back pocket. “So you can buy replacement rings,” the woman had said.

“I think that went well,” Carter said, as he unlocked the car and opened the door for Tori.

“Sure. Just like arranging your own execution.” She slipped inside, frowning at him all the while. “Why on earth did you agree to a B and B? Do you have any idea how intimate those places are?”

“Of course I do. That’s why we’re there. Dress rehearsal.” He didn’t give her time to answer. Just shut the door and headed toward his side of the car, stopping at the trunk to rummage for their rings.

When he got inside, she was glaring at him.

He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, it was your idea.”

“You’re right. It was. And I hope you’re memorizing your new litany—you’re right, Tori. Everything you say is right.” She grinned. “But you know this means you sleep on the couch.”

He held back a chuckle as he started the car. “Damn. Just barely a newlywed and already I’m kicked out of the marital bed.”

THEY FOUND the place easily enough. A hacienda with faded pink stucco tucked into a hill overlooking a secluded bit of the ocean.

The setting sun gave the building a warm, sensual glow, and Carter felt a twinge of regret that he wasn’t really there on a honeymoon, because surely this place was made for lovers.

“Wow.” Her soft whisper startled him, and Carter realized she was having much the same reaction. “It’s beautiful.”

He nodded, curt and firm, not wanting to reveal that his mind was already conjuring images of the two of them on the beach, in their room, in bed….

“Come on.” He yanked open the door even as he yanked himself away from his sordid thoughts.

They headed into the building and were checked in by the owner’s son, a lanky teenage boy who showed them to the top floor and their room.

“It’s the honeymoon suite,” he said, stopping outside the closed door. “Best in the house. You’re lucky. Usually it’s booked up, but the couple who was supposed to have it decided to come only for the weekend.”

He pulled an old-fashioned skeleton key out of the front pocket of his khakis, then pushed open the door. Tori stepped through first, and he heard her gasp. She turned to face him, and he saw something unrecognizable reflected in her eyes. Wonder? Fear? He didn’t know, so he followed her into the room.

As soon as he saw the layout, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

The cozy room was absolutely beautiful. A perfect lovers’ paradise with one wall of windows that overlooked the ocean, a connecting bathroom featuring a claw-foot tub, a stiff-looking wing chair and, right there in the middle of the room, the one thing that had brought the gasp to Tori’s lips.

A bed.

One queen-size bed draped with white netting.

An ice bucket and a bottle of champagne finished the décor.

“It’s perfect,” Carter said to the kid, even as his eyes continued to scan the room.

“Absolutely,” Tori agreed. Her eyes caught his, and he imagined a deer caught in the headlights. He knew exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking the exact same thing.

The room might be perfect for real newlyweds, but for them, it was anything but.

Because the room lacked one very important essential.

The room had no couch.

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