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Authors: Mia Kay

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BOOK: Souvenirs
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He couldn’t help the question. He wanted to learn about her life, even though he knew what would follow.

“I’m a consultant. What about you?”

This was his chance to be honest, to share himself as she deserved. For a moment, he watched their reflections, visible in the window. They looked peaceful. A secret that made you peaceful couldn’t be bad. Could it?

“Media and communications,” he finally replied. The quiet surrounded them, and his heart hammered in his chest so hard he was surprised she didn’t feel it shake her spine.

“About this arrangement,” he began, “we don’t have to sleep together. I mean there are two beds, and, well . . .” His words strangled to a stop as he tried to give her an out he prayed she didn’t want.

She took his hand and Ben quit staring at the ceiling and looked her in the eyes. The teasing glint he’d come to expect made it easier for him to continue.

“I don’t want to push you into anything.” As he relaxed, his sense of humor returned. “I won’t lie, sex would be great. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because your mother thinks it’s a good idea.”

Grace’s laughter sputtered to life, shaking his free. The chain reaction built until they were wiping gleeful tears from their eyes as the train pulled into the station.

That sudden burst of humor faded as Ben stood with her in a secluded corner of the Hotel Salzburg’s small lobby, both staring at the room keys they’d been given. Their mothers had walked to the other end of the lobby, out of earshot, to look at a tourist map the desk clerk had provided.

“Your place or mine?” Ben asked as he looked over his shoulder. This was weird enough without an audience.

Grace pulled a coin from her pocket. “Heads, it’s yours.”

He won the coin toss.

The ride to the correct floor was quiet, the walk down the hallway worse. Grace unlocked the door and they both jumped as it slammed shut behind them. It was a hotel room just like ones in cities around the world. A closet to one side, the bathroom to the other, a wall of windows opposite the door, and two beds in between.
Were the rooms always this small
?

Ben gulped. “Okay, this is—”

“Bizarre,” Grace finished.

Her gaze flitted around the room, as if she were looking for a hiding place or an escape route, and her grip tightened on her case until her knuckles were white. Dropping his bag, he gave her what he hoped was a winning smile. “Why don’t we check out the view?”

After a long moment, Grace released her luggage and quick-stepped to the curtains. The hardware rattled against the rod as she yanked them open. Salzburg spread in front of them.

“Wow.”

She flinched when he slipped his arms around her waist. It was slight, and he couldn’t blame her, but it worried him. “Do you think this means our mothers are looking at a dumpster in an alley?”

“Well, we won fair and square.” She inhaled a deep shaky breath before she stepped away and explored the rest of the room. As she kept putting space between them, his worry increased. “How about some music?” she called over her shoulder.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Ben retreated to the ritual of unpacking to calm his nerves.

After he stored the suitcases in the closet, he carried his toiletries to the vanity. “Did you want to change before we leave?”

Pop music blared into the room. Peering around the corner, he saw Grace begin a free-form sort of jitterbug. As the song played, her dance became more of a head-banging fit. She spun, and her unselfconscious joy invited him to play along. They bounced around the room in a punk frenzy until they collapsed on the bed, grinning stupidly at each other.

“That’s much better.” Ben levered himself over her and leaned forward until his lips met hers. As usual, his body overrode his brain. Sliding his tongue into her mouth, he relished the sweet flavor unique to her and the agile play of her tongue.

He combed his fingers through her hair then continued to explore, tracing her ears, down the column of her throat, around the curve of her shoulders. Hungry for more, he left off kissing her to trail his lips to her ear and catch the tender lobe in his teeth.

She surrendered with a sound between a gasp and a sigh, tilting her head to allow him access to more skin, and he took advantage—tasting her as he soaked in the scent of her perfume.

Her hands moved from his shoulders to his chest, and he slowed, giving her the chance to stop. Instead, she curled her arms around him and tugged him closer.

Again, he explored. Her breast, hidden beneath her blouse, filled his hand, and he rolled her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She tugged his shirt from his waistband, her warm hands seeking his skin.

This was exactly what he’d promised not to do. This morning while shaving, he’d lectured his reflection on taking his time with her. He wanted to show her Europe, to watch her eyes light up with each new city. That wouldn’t happen if she didn’t see anything but the ceilings of hotel rooms. He’d vowed not to fall on her like a sex-starved lunatic and here he was, doing just that.

He stopped and moved his hands to the mattress. They lay there, foreheads pressing together, sharing gulps of air.

“If I touch you again, we’ll never leave this room,” Ben groaned, then shuddered as she lightly raked her nails on his back, tickling instead of hurting and making him second-guess his commitment to sightseeing. “That’s not making it easier to let you go.”

She smoothed his shirt down, settling the light cotton between them. “I did say I wanted to see the Fortress.”

“You did. And we need to get moving if we’re going to catch the bus.”

Yet she remained still. So did Ben, taking in the sight of her flushed skin, her hair in disarray, the points of her breasts clearly visible under her disheveled shirt.
Maybe we could see the Fortress on another trip.

Her body was ready, but worry lurked in her eyes. That stopped him more than any promise he’d made to himself.

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned about the speed of all this?” Her voice shook, as did her deep breath. “About
me
being okay with the speed of this?”

“No.” He sat and pulled her upright to face him. “I’ve learned to spot women who are casual about sex. You’re not one of them. Are
you
worried?”

Her head tilted as she frowned in thought. After a few seconds, her features smoothed into a smile. “No. You don’t strike me as the wanton orgy type.”

Relieved, Ben released a laughing breath. “Trust me, doll, if I’d wanted an orgy, I’d have booked a different tour.” He pulled her to her feet and kissed her quickly. “Chivvy on, then.”

They stood side-by-side at the bathroom mirror rearranging their clothes and combing their hair, as if they did it every day.

Hand in hand, Ben and Grace strolled from their room and started on their new adventure. And for the rest of the afternoon, they hung with the group and explored until neck cricks and foot blisters made them seek out a resting place.

Ben found his mother on a bench in the walled courtyard.

“Mozart’s home is open for tours this evening,” she said. “We’re getting up a group to go after dinner.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” The offer was half-hearted, but he
had
promised to have a vacation with her and he
was
responsible for her safety.

“Not if you’ve made other plans.” She eyed him with motherly keenness. “Is your room all right?”

He rubbed the skin under his collar. He’d never get used to talking about sex with his mother. “Everything is great, Mum. What about yours?”

“Perfect. Sunny’s going to be a wonderful roommate.” She looped her arm through his. “Don’t worry about me, Bennett. I know where you are.”

“Then I’ll skip Mozart and see if Grace wants to gander through the city.”

They reached the bus as Grace and her mother rejoined the group. Sunny patted his arm in greeting as she continued to address her daughter. “Are you two joining us for dinner?”

“I think so.” Grace somehow managed to respond to her mother and telegraph the question to him.

“Yes,” he said as he wound his arm around her waist. If he thought about the newness of her, it still shocked him. So he did his best to quit thinking about it.

“We’re going for coffee when we get back to the hotel.” Sunny continued the conversation as they climbed onto the bus.

“Nora and I are going shopping,” Grace said.

“I thought you’d want to do that.” Sunny dropped into the window seat, and waved. “Have a good time.”

“Is shopping with Nora okay?” Grace asked as they found seats. “It won’t take long.”

“We don’t have to be inseparable. Take all the time you’d like. I need to get a few things myself.”

“Can I save you a trip?”

He felt like someone had set his skin aflame. “No.”

Grace clapped a hand over her mouth. The giggle leaked out anyway. “No, probably not.”

Ben tugged her close, resenting the seat belt holding her in place. They shared the gentle laugh. This was getting easier.

“What are
you
shopping for?” he whispered.

She flashed a wicked grin. “I didn’t bring any lingerie.”

It wasn’t easy any longer. As he imagined her in various slips of next-to-nothing, the blood drained from his head to other parts of his anatomy. His throat refused to work, but he finally managed to strangle out, “Oh.”

The door to the bus slid open before he realized they’d reached the hotel. Ben undid her seat belt, then allowed his body to brush hers before he kissed her cheek and whispered, “Don’t let me keep you.”

Chapter 7

Every shade on the color wheel splashed across tables, racks, and walls of the lingerie boutique, somehow complimenting each other rather than clashing. Soft carpet muffled Grace’s footsteps, and sultry background music encouraged her to sway with the beat.

Textures tickled her fingers as she shopped. The lace was soft and sensuous rather than stiff and scratchy, and the silk made her feel like she touched nothing at all.

She’d never felt so sexy in her life. She might never buy department store underwear again.

Her pulse jumped. She was buying underwear someone else was going to see—
Ben
was going to see—in a few hours. It was surreal. She glanced at the price tag and gasped.
As unbelievable as paying this much for underwear.

Carrying their small bags, Grace and Nora returned to the hotel and joined the men in the lounge. Ben’s arm across the back of her chair, his easy laughter, worked with the cocktails and comfort food to drain away the rest of her apprehension.

They left Adam and Nora in the lobby. Once the elevator doors closed, Ben reached for her bag. “Do I get to see what you bought?”

She swatted his long, elegant finger from the edge of the tissue paper. “Patience, sweetheart. Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“Doll, I’ve lived in a constant state of surprise for the last four days.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Ben’s fingers flexed on her waist to keep her close until the doors opened on their floor.

“Then a few more hours won’t hurt you,” she teased in a whisper.

He fumbled with the key, getting them into their room on the second try. The click of the lock echoed as he pulled her to him. Her bag dropped to the floor.

She gave up tempering her reaction to him. They shared a hungry kiss, and she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest and abdomen, around to his back, feeling his trembling, quaking muscles and strong bones. His groans and gasps encouraged her to continue, and her hand ventured below his waist to his thigh, then up to his erection straining for freedom.

“We don’t have enough time,” he panted as he shaped his hands around her ribs.

“We have . . .” She checked her watch and groaned in agreement. “Twenty minutes.”

“Which means we have ten.” He stole another kiss and stepped away. “And I’m not going to rush this.”

She regretted the distance between them as they searched for dinner clothes. “Are you sure?”

“No.” He waggled his eyebrows as he turned toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go stand in a cold shower while you get dressed.”

“Let me get my makeup.”

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged fully clothed except for the tie dangling around his neck. From her spot in front of the dresser mirror, Grace could watch his reflection as he repacked from earlier and then worked on the knot in his tie. A slight frown creased his brow.

She put the finishing touches on her makeup as he pulled his jacket from the closet. With it hanging from his fingers, his gaze traveled up her back, starting at her ankles and ending at the sweep of her hair over her shoulders.

She talked to him in the mirror. “You look nice.”

“So do you.” He shrugged into his jacket as she reached for her purse. “Are you ready?”

Grace double-checked her reflection. “Do you see something I missed?”

He shook his head. “Hillary would have skipped sightseeing to shop, spent all afternoon faffing about, made us late, and she still wouldn’t have looked as smart as you do. Plus, she never wore shoes fit for walking. We saw every city from the window of a car. I have much more fun with you.”

He kissed her fingers before grasping her hand. “And that’s the only time I’ll think about my ex-girlfriend with you in the room. Let’s go.”

They climbed onto the bus to go on a date with fifty other people. Though the small groups shifted at meals and during tour stops, on the bus and the train everyone had their spots. Saul Goldstein liked to be up front so he could see the road. Sunny and Camille were halfway back, and they alternated the window seat every time they boarded. Across the aisle were the Greer cousins and their party. Ava Greer had the seat by the window and a book in her lap. Dee Armstrong sat directly behind her, flipping through the guidebook to make sure they weren’t missing something.

The seats in the back went to Grace, Ben, and the Cains. The men took the aisle seats so they weren’t folded up and uncomfortable. Tonight their dress shoes and long legs crowded the narrow space.

“It reminds me of the school bus at home,” Nora chuckled. “Just in reverse, with the younger kids in the back.”

“The kids in back always snogged in the dark,” Ben teased.

“It’s not dark,” Grace reminded him.

“Dang it,” Adam grumbled. “I always wanted to do that.”

When the bus stopped, the group filed down the steps and into a reception room. Round tables formed neat rows, reminding Grace of a Twister board made only of blue circles with bouquets of alpine flowers in the center. Several tables on one side were already crowded with what appeared to be another tour group. Wait staff in traditional dress bustled between the dining room and the kitchen.

Their group sat and the servers descended. Efficient and friendly, they chatted as they delivered family-style platters of local food. They explained every custom, each dish, answered all questions, then disappeared as the lights dimmed and the local theater group took the stage.

When the lights came up for intermission, everyone milled around to stretch their legs and visit. Professor Goldstein saw another Mets cap across the room and crossed the invisible line between tour groups. Soon, the travelers had formed one large party.

Across the table, Ben laughed at Alice Greer’s story. Dee Armstrong had jumped in to tell another tale. Camille and Mrs. Goldstein were discussing recipes, while Sunny visited with Nora about modern art. Grace was happy to listen, thrilled Ben seemed content acting on his own.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect. Ryan had hated to be left alone in unfamiliar spots. He’d gone with her to a few conventions and had sulked in the room the whole time. However, he’d also sulked in public. Until Vegas, when he’d skipped her acceptance speech at the World Fantasy Awards to spend the evening in the bar with
what’s-her-name
.

She didn’t see Ben as a source of worry. Instead, he was comfortable on his own, happy to visit with the group, or sit near the back of the table in the darkest part of the room.

The lie she’d told bothered her. Technically, she wasn’t being deceptive. She
was
the story consultant, though it was of small comfort.

“Would you mind?”

She looked up to see Adam Cain with his hand on the chair next to her. “No, please sit.”

She followed the minister’s gaze, but it wasn’t difficult to guess who he was watching. His wife always had his full attention.

“She’s really special, Adam.”

“I’m never really sure if I’m supposed to say ‘Thank you’ or ‘I know.’ I didn’t have anything to do with it, but the other sounds ungracious.”

“What was dating like?”

“She was a pain in the butt.”

“Really?”

“She’d been hurt.” When Grace nodded, he shook his head. “More than the scars. She’d been neglected and ignored. Everyone wants to give me the credit for making her softer, but the softness was there. She just needed somewhere safe so she could be honest with herself.” Adam was back at the beginning of their courtship. “She helped me, too.”

“How?”

“I lost my first wife, and I let my calling become a job. At thirty-five, I’d become a dogmatic, sour old man. Nora shook me out of it with good, old-fashioned common sense. But she worried for months. Her muses strike whenever they want. Paint, clay, charcoal, sketches on every piece of paper she finds. She worried about me living in the mess. And she’s not your normal minister’s wife.”

Laughter pealed from across the table. Blushing under the stubble of his five o’clock shadow, Ben was the center of attention as his mother told a story. Grace itched to hear the details.

“He really likes you, you know.”

She jerked her attention to Adam with a guilty grimace. His expression was equally guilty.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” he explained. “I wanted to make sure this wasn’t a one-time event for either of you.”

“You asked him that?” Grace hissed. Why couldn’t everyone stay out of her love life?

“I didn’t have to. This afternoon, every woman in the bar was giving him the eye. He didn’t see any of them.” Adam smiled. “And you probably haven’t seen anyone but him since you got off the plane.”

“Adam—”

“I’ve read your work,” he whispered. “Brilliant doesn’t really cover it. Why hide it?”

“My life is a snarl of meetings, projects, and paper. The movie is going to make it worse. I’m going to have to do publicity.” The last word caused an involuntary shudder. “What if he can’t see a place for himself in that? What if he doesn’t want to?”

The lights blinked, signaling the end of intermission. As he stood, Adam squeezed her shoulder. “He might handle it better than you think.”

After dessert and the end of the performance, the group departed to explore Mozart’s home. Ben and Grace waved their respective mothers off, the two women eager for the tour. A few more adventurous seniors ignored the bus for taxis to other destinations. Nora and Adam chose to walk.

Ben watched to see where they went and then aimed Grace in an opposite direction, down a path adjacent to the river. He avoided charging back to the hotel because he didn’t want to feel like this whole day had been an experiment in foreplay. Their day together, enjoying each other’s company, was about more than anticipation. However, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to sex—because it was sex with
her
.

His already racing heart now thudded and skipped. How had she come to mean this much to him in less than a week?

Grace squeezed his hand, bringing him out of his thoughts. The sunset tinted the river orange and pink, the colors splashed on every building lining the shore.

“I didn’t think it could get much prettier,” she whispered. “This is like a fairytale.”

They strolled as the breeze ruffled their hair and clothing. The trees sighed overhead as the scents coming from nearby cafes tried to tempt them back inside.

He found a bench with a view of the river but with enough shadow to be private, close enough they could smell coffee and pastries but far enough to muffle conversation. He draped his jacket over her shoulders. “Stay right here. I’m going for coffee.”

On his return, Ben refused to be distracted by the glow of the sunset on her skin or the sight of her draped in his clothing. She took her first sip and gazed at him in shock.

“You got it just the way I like it.”

Two creams, real sugar. It was a doddle.
“Yeah?”

“I lived with Ryan for three years, and he always brought me black coffee.” She shrugged one shoulder free of his coat. “Here. You’ll get cold.”

Ben snuggled her against him. “I have you in one hand and coffee in the other. I’m fine, doll, but thanks for worrying. Tell me about Ryan.” The other man’s name was bitter on his tongue, giving him another reason to worry.

Her deep breath jostled both of them on the bench and ended on a sigh as she expelled the memory. “I remember when he was fun and easy to talk to. His friends will tell you he’s a nice guy. He works hard. But he was prickly. He liked to be right. He hated it when I knew more than him, and he was surly if I was the center of attention.” Her lips formed a hard, grim line. “So he found someone who didn’t have those problems.”

“And you stayed with this arse for three years?”

“I didn’t catch him until the end. It wasn’t as if I put up with it. Before that, I thought I could love him enough to make him secure, but you can’t fix another person.”

“How was your break-up?”

“Surprisingly calm. He’d disappointed me so much already.”

“Bastard.” Ben’s coffee churned in his gut and his knuckles whitened around the disposable cup, threatening it with collapse. That someone would choose to hurt
his
Grace. He gulped in a convulsive attempt to block those feelings and his escalating panic at his possessive thoughts.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Her laugh was humorless. “But enough about me. What about you and Hillary?”

“She’d expected life with me would be different from what it was. She couldn’t handle the reality of it.”

“Do you miss her?”

“No. Never have.” His skin heated with the admission. “I know it sounds awful. Being with her was pleasant at first, but then it got to be trying. Then it became a chore. She wanted things I couldn’t deliver.”

“Like what?”

“She wanted a career. I have a lot of connections.”

“She wanted to use you?”

“More or less, and those sorts of things are out of my control. People either like you or they don’t. They want to work with you or they don’t. Who you’re involved with shouldn’t matter.” He stared across the river at the city. “And I’m gone a lot. She got bored.”

“She cheated?”

“No.” He wished she would have. “Her habits were more destructive.” He shrugged. “So she was using me and I knew it, but I put off the confrontation because I was gone so much, which left her to her own devices. I’d had enough. That’s it.”

“How long ago?”

BOOK: Souvenirs
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