I grunted. “Harrison didn’t tell me this was a sex retreat. The whole tent was full of roses and candles.”
My brain chose that moment to picture Ellie in the lingerie Lovejoy had left for her, and I flexed my fingers.
Ellie picked up another petal with a laugh. “It makes sense. Connecting sexually probably plays a big role in Dr. Lovejoy’s therapy.”
“She’s not a real therapist,” I reminded her.
Ellie only rolled her eyes, then climbed onto the mattress and got under the covers.
I fed the fire before joining her.
“No chocolate on our pillows tonight,” she observed, sounding disappointed.
“You’ve had more than enough chocolate today.”
She huffed softly, gazing up at the stars. “No such thing.”
We lay a foot apart, just like we had last night. But it didn’t last long this time.
I blamed the cooler breeze for why I didn’t push Ellie away when she cuddled up to my side. It only made sense for me to wrap an arm behind her head then.
Again, because of the breeze.
Ellie had a gift for falling asleep quickly. One minute she was watching the stars like she wanted to commit them to memory, then the next her breathing had evened out—aside from the occasional little snore.
She cuddled even closer to me in her sleep, hooking her ankle over mine and burying her face in my side.
But when she started scratching her leg in her sleep, I held on to her wrist until she stopped.
Damn hives.
Sleep didn’t find me as easily. I had a staring contest with the sky, taking in all the tiny little stars and the magnitude of space. I enjoyed the peace. The hush. I couldn’t remember the last time it’d been this quiet.
The city never slept like this island. Never stopped. Never slowed.
I was different here, too. In Westport, I was a tycoon. I lived and worked on the highest floors and had a reputation that preceded me in life and the boardroom.
I’d never felt smaller than under the vastness of that night’s sky.
It was… enlightening.
By the time I finally drifted off, both my arms were wrapped around Ellie, and I’d pulled her flush against my chest. Our legs tangled together under the blankets.
And I could still taste hints of chocolate on my tongue.
new heights
. . .
Ellie
Ellie’s Guide toProfessional CuddlingBeing a Fake Fiancée, Tip #12: Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is trust.
Apparently, Dr. Lovejoy’s idea of “trust building” was a terrifying ropes course.
She’d waited for the group to finish a fancy brunch filled with pancakes, omelettes, pastries—including my favorite chocolate croissants—and mimosas, before leading us blindly into the rainforest part of the island. The crew had constructed a giant rope jungle gym way high up in the trees.
It looked like something out of an elven fairy tale. Narrow wooden platforms clung to thick tree trunks, connected by swaying rope bridges that made my knees knock together. Four courses were woven through the canopy of trees—a web of ropes and obstacles.