Pillow Chase

“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.