13. Ecco

13

ECCO

T he lobby of the inn buzzes with anxious voices as I absorb the bombshell Mariah just dropped. A magical blizzard, trapping us all indefinitely? This is awful timing; I'm still in the throes of album promotion and I have more press starting up again tomorrow.

Not to mention my security situation…

Before I know it, I'm leaning into Graeme's rock-solid arm. The hard mass of his muscles against my arm is a reassurance. My body lights up again with the contact, and I realize this snowstorm won't just be a challenge for my busy pre-tour schedule.

It'll also be a challenge being cooped up with this infuriating gargoyle who has made it very clear he does not want to kiss me.

"Graeme, I think I… I need a minute." My words tumble out in a breathy rush. I'm desperate to be away from the crowd, to have a beat with my thoughts. "Let's go upstairs."

We weave through the crowd toward the grand staircase. The normally soothing cinnamon and woodsmoke scents cloy in my nose. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other until we reach the sanctuary of our suite.

Once inside, I turn to my towering gargoyle bodyguard. "I need to take a shower. Alone. Can you wait out in the hallway please til I'm dressed?" I'm proud of how steady I keep my voice.

His thick brows draw together. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Ecco. With all the chaos…"

Irritation flares through me, and I cut him off. "It's a shower, Graeme, not a black ops mission! I just need ten freaking minutes to myself to process… all this." I wave my hand vaguely.

"Your safety is my responsibility. I can't protect you if?—"

"Oh my god, are you planning to follow me into the bathroom? I don't think so, buddy." I plant my hands on my hips, glaring up at him.

We lock eyes, both refusing to back down. I'm suddenly viscerally aware of how close we're standing, of Graeme's hulking frame.

Images from last night, from our dance and charged moment after, flash unbidden through my mind.

My cheeks heat, and I hope he assumes it's anger.

After a long, weighted moment, Graeme exhales harshly. "Fine. Ten minutes." He clenches his chiseled jaw. "But I'll be right there in the hall. Anything seems off, even a little, you shout for me. Understood?"

I nod, not trusting my voice, and dart into the bathroom before he can change his mind. The door clicks shut behind me.

A few minutes later, steam billows around me as I stand under the rainfall showerhead, the heat and pressure divine against the stress-induced tension in my back. I tip my head back, letting the water sluice over my face and down my body.

Breathing deeply, I will my racing thoughts to slow.

It's fine. Everything is going to be fine.

So there's a freak blizzard. So what?

I'm safe and warm. I've got food and shelter. There's no proof it has anything to do with my stalker—it's probably just poor Velda's errant magic, like Mariah said. And I'm not alone...

Graeme's face swims in my mind's eye.

Graeme, who held me so securely on the dance floor last night, his hand splayed possessively across my lower back.

Graeme, whose ice-blue eyes seemed to burn right through me as we swayed, his gaze dipping to my lips again and again.

I was so sure he wanted me, too. But then the storm started, and the moment was gone, and he's barely made eye contact with me since.

Oh god. Being cooped up with Graeme indefinitely will be torture. Especially after I was a drunken asshole last night, practically throwing myself at a man who was clearly trying to turn me down gently.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but it does nothing to dispel the sudden fantasy of Graeme crowding me against the tile wall, water sluicing over his gray skin and gray-black wings, his large hands mapping my curves.

What would that chiseled mouth feel like on my throat, on my breasts? I shiver despite the heat.

Stop it , I scold myself. He works for you. And he doesn't want this. You're only torturing yourself more .

Still, I can't ignore how my body responds to even just the fantasy of him.

My hand drifts lower, almost of its own accord. If I just… take the edge off… I can keep a clear head around him.

Yeah. Totally sound logic. Just this once.

I trail my fingers over my slick skin, slipping fingers down into my wet heat, circling my clit, picking up the pace as my body responds. I try to keep my breathy sighs quiet over the noise of the falling water. Heat builds low in my belly as my touch grows bolder.

The hot steam from the shower envelops me as I close my eyes, imagining Graeme's presence. My mind conjures up his strong, muscular frame stalking into the shower with determined steps.

He presses me against the slick tile wall, trapping my hands with one big hand while his other hand takes control, exploring and commanding as he claims every inch of my skin.

Graeme grabs my shoulders and grunts, turning me to face the wall. His hard body presses against me from behind, his hands roaming down my sides and over my hips. His arousal pushes into the small of my back as he leans in closer…

I let out an involuntary moan at the image.

I imagine him moving one hand up to cup my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple until it hardens under his touch. The other hand tugs at my hair, pulling me back slightly so his warm breath hits my neck.

"Kneel," he growls in my ear. I remain standing, a smirk on my face as I relish in the thrill of my defiance. I turn to face him, challenging him with a look that only seems to excite him more. Our eyes lock in a battle of wills, but we both know how this game ends—with me on my knees and him victorious.

He tightens his hold on my hair, using it as leverage to pull me closer. My breast is still firmly within his grasp, and I arch into his touch as pleasure builds within me.

"Kneel," he commands again, while a rough hand drifts lower, teasing me with a few light strokes. This time I comply, kneeling before him, wrapping one hand around his massive length...

The fantasy fades as I sink down onto the cool tile floor, gasping for breath. The rush of water from the shower drowns out my cry as I give in and fall over the edge. Graeme's name falls from my lips in what I hope is nothing but a whisper.

As the waves of pleasure ebb, I take a deep, shuddering breath and let the hot water wash over me. My limbs are languid and heavy. For a moment, I just lay there, palms pressed against the tile floor, trying to gather my scattered thoughts.

Okay. Okay, I got that out of my system.

Fantasy indulged, itch scratched.

Now I can focus on the actual situation at hand without… distractions. Time to compartmentalize, Ecco.

I snort softly and shake my head, droplets flying from my hair. I quickly finish my shower, refusing to let my mind drift back to heated blue eyes and flexing gray muscles. Nope, not going there again.

Quickly, I pull my clothes on and try not to think about anything, steamy or scary. Unfortunately, thoughts of my upcoming schedule and the chaos this storm is creating keep intruding.

"I need ten more minutes to call Natalie and fill her in," I shout through the room's door. "I promise I am fine in here without a babysitter." From the hallway, I can hear Graeme grunt in assent.

Then I take out my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen. The weight of responsibility settles heavily on my shoulders as I steel myself to make the call I've been dreading.

Ring. Ring.

"Ecco? Oh my god, are you okay?" Natalie's voice is tight, barely concealing her panic. "I read about the magical blizzard online. Please tell me you're alright."

"I'm fine, Natalie. Really," I assure her, trying to keep my tone light even as my stomach tightens with uncertainty. "But the situation here is definitely not ideal."

I launch into an explanation of Elderberry Falls' magical predicament, how it's not clear when the storm will lift and we'll be able to leave. With each word, I can practically hear Natalie's stress levels rising through the phone.

"I know, it's a disaster," I tell her, trying not to panic. I hate letting other people down, and I'm so grateful for what Natalie and my entire team have done for me. "All my media commitments, the interviews and appearances…"

There's a long silence and I can practically hear Natalie thinking. She takes a deep breath and says, in a clipped tone that I know belies her true feelings, "It's fine! We'll pivot to virtual appearances. Phone interviews, video call-ins, anything to keep the momentum going."

"Are you sure?" I ask her, knowing that we don't really have any other options.

"It's not perfect, but it could work," she concedes, her voice regaining some of its usual confidence. "I'll start rearranging your schedule, see what we can salvage."

Relief washes over me. Natalie and I brainstorm solutions, deciding which appearances would work well from afar, and which we should try to reschedule if possible. It feels good to get things organized.

But a small lick of guilt flickers inside me as we talk.

I haven't told Natalie about what I saw at the rehearsal dinner. The memory of that shadowy figure, the icy fear that gripped me in that moment, sends a spike of anxiety through me.

I bite my lip, debating whether to tell Natalie about it, that the stalker could be here in Elderberry Falls, or even worse, have the power to transport between places, from what we've seen. But she's already so stressed, so worried about my career.

Do I really need to add to her burdens without any concrete proof? After all, I only saw the figure for a second…

In the end, I decide against it. Natalie has enough on her plate; there's no need to pile on more worries, especially when I'm not even sure what I saw was real.

"Ecco, I need you to promise me something," Natalie says, her tone deadly serious. "Be safe. I mean it. Don't take any unnecessary risks."

"I promise, Natalie. I'll be careful," I reply, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know they ring hollow.

I end the call with Natalie, tossing my phone onto the bed with a sigh.

When I emerge from the room, Graeme's piercing gaze locks onto me. His nostrils flare slightly, and I flush, remembering his heightened senses.

Can he tell what I was doing in the shower? The thought sends a forbidden thrill through me.

"Feeling better?" he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

I smile brightly. "Much. Nothing like a hot shower to clear your head."

Graeme grunts noncommittally, his eyes still studying me intently. I resist the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.

"So, I was thinking," I say, moving toward the stairs. "Since we're stuck here anyway, maybe we could?—"

"No." Graeme cuts me off, his tone brooking no argument.

I stop and blink at him, taken aback. "You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"Doesn't matter." He crosses his arms over his broad chest. "Whatever harebrained scheme you're cooking up, the answer is no. We need to lie low until this blizzard lets up and it's safe to leave."

Irritation flickers through me, chasing away the last lingering tendrils of arousal. "Newsflash, Graeme: I don't take orders from you. If I want to go out and explore the winter wonderland out there, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Graeme's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Damn it, Ecco, I'm trying to keep you safe. Why do you have to fight me on everything?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm an adult who can make her own decisions?" I snap, standing up to face him directly.

We glare at each other, the air crackling with a different kind of tension than before. I can't believe I ever found this male attractive.

Aggravating is more like it.

Just as I'm gearing up for a full-blown argument, a thought occurs to me. I tilt my head, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"You know what? You're right, Graeme. We should definitely stay put. In fact," I say, taking a few steps back toward our room and throwing open the door, "I think I'll take this opportunity to go through the pleasure chest. Fully explore its contents, if you know what I mean."

I saunter back into our suite, Graeme automatically following me in before my words register. I gesture to the ornate chest at the foot of the bed, watching with satisfaction as Graeme's eyes widen in obvious discomfort.

Serves him right for trying to boss me around.

"You won't have to worry about me." I shrug, all innocence. "I can entertain myself just fine."

For a long moment, Graeme just stares at me, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face too fast to decipher. Then, abruptly, he turns on his heel and strides towards the door.

"Fine, we can go outside," he tosses over his shoulder, his voice tight. "But I'm sticking close."

The door slams behind him, leaving me alone in the suddenly too-quiet room. I sink back down onto the bed, my brief surge of triumph fading.

This is going to be a long, long day.