7. Ecco

7

ECCO

" W hat kind of surprise?" I ask cautiously, trying not to panic.

Minx chirrups inquisitively, her little head cocked. I stroke a soothing hand between her ears.

"I thought it would be hilarious to put you in one of the special enchanted rooms for old times' sake. You know, like when we were kids." Mariah's smile turns even more sheepish. "And with all the last-minute wedding craziness, I kind of… gave away all the other rooms already."

Special enchanted rooms. Oh no.

I have an awful, dawning suspicion about where this is headed.

"Mariah," I say slowly, pitching my voice low, though I'm sure Graeme can still hear me. Damn those heightened gargoyle senses. "Which room did you put me in?"

Mariah bites her lip. "Uhh. The honeymoon suite?" Her voice lilts up at the end, like it's a question.

I stare at her, jaw slack.

She didn't.

She couldn't have.

But the barely contained glee dancing across her face tells me that oh yes, she absolutely could have. And did.

Beside me, Graeme shifts, clearing his throat.

"The honeymoon suite," he repeats, voice a low rumble. "Is that… will that be a problem? Sounds like it should be spacious enough for both of us?"

Heat floods my cheeks. "Yes! I mean no! No, no problem at all," I assure him, voice pitched a bit too high. "It's just, um. Very… themed."

Mariah snorts, not even trying to hide her amusement now. I shoot her a glare before turning back to Graeme, making my best attempt to school my features.

"But hey, yeah, plenty of room, right? Shall we?"

I don't wait for his response, just snatch the antique room key from Mariah's hand and march toward the stairs. Graeme's heavy footfalls thump behind me, and I can practically sense his stony disapproval boring into my back.

This is fine , I tell myself as we climb.

Totally fine. So what if I'm about to be trapped in a wildly inappropriate, romance-drenched room with my insanely hot, infuriatingly grumpy bodyguard?

Who I absolutely do not have a crush on.

At all.

We reach the top floor, the honeymoon suite looming at the end of the hall. Facing the door, I take a deep breath, slot the key into the lock, and push it open.

Graeme and I stand frozen in the doorway, both trying very hard to look anywhere but at each other or the massive, heart-shaped bed dominating the room.

Enchanted rose petals drift from the ceiling, vanishing in puffs of glittering smoke when they touch the ground. A cheerful magical fire crackles in the totally unnecessary fireplace, casting the room in a warm, intimate glow without adding any heat to the already-warm summer air.

A bottle of shimmering champagne chills itself in a bucket of never-melting ice, flanked by an ever-full box of rich chocolates.

Best of all, in the corner, a gigantic heart-shaped jacuzzi tub bubbles invitingly, tendrils of fragrant steam curling into the air.

It's like a romance novel exploded in here. When Mariah and I would sneak in as teens, we thought it was the height of hilarity. Now, the over-the-top decor makes me want to melt into the plush carpet and disappear.

I steal a glance at Graeme from the corner of my eye. His jaw is clenched tight, his expression unreadable as always.

Great. Just great.

I clear my throat and head in, unsure what else to do. "Well! This is… cozy."

Graeme just grunts in response, moving to set his bag down. I let Minx out of her carrier and watch as she happily chases the enchanted rose petals, which have slowed slightly but are still very much falling from above.

The silence stretches between us, thick with tension and awkwardness. I open a few drawers and busy myself with unpacking, trying to ignore the way my heart races every time Graeme brushes past me.

As I'm hanging up a dress, I catch Graeme moving towards an ornate wooden chest in the corner. My eyes widen with sudden realization.

"Stop!" I yelp, whirling around. "Not that chest!"

But it's too late. Graeme has already flipped open the lid, revealing the chest's contents. An exotic array of sex toys is artfully displayed, including a massive jar of shimmering magical lube, handcuffs, nipple clamps, and condoms in every color of the rainbow.

My face flames with embarrassment as Graeme and I exchange a mortified look. He slams the chest shut with a resounding thud, the tips of his pointed ears burning crimson.

I didn't even know his skin could get that color. I blush even more at where that thought takes me.

"Not that chest," he agrees gruffly, hastily moving to the other side of the room.

I want to dissolve into giggles.

Or maybe scream. This cannot be happening.

I calm my breath, trying to center myself. Minx chooses that moment to jump up on the massive bed, mewing curiously.

"Don't you dare," I whisper to her, my eyes flicking to the mated pair of lovebirds cooing in the eaves above the bed.

The bed. Oh gods, the bed. I'd forgotten about its… special features.

My cheeks burn hotter as I recall the way it would start vibrating whenever it sensed arousal. Mariah and I used to dare each other to lay on it, dissolving into shrieks of scandalized laughter if the spell was ever triggered.

Now, the thought of that bed reading my body's reactions, with Graeme mere feet away...

I shake my head firmly, banishing the mental image. I will not think about Graeme and beds and vibrating all in the same context. Nope.

Professional, Waverly. You're a professional.

Graeme coughs a little, the sound unnaturally loud in the charged quiet. "I'll take the floor, like I said," he says, already reaching for a spare pillow.

I paste on a bright smile, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach at the thought of him stretched out beside the bed. "Are you sure? The bed is huge, I'm sure we could easily share it."

What the fuck is wrong with me?!

The look he shoots me is inscrutable. I catch him glancing at the pleasure chest and we both flush again, embarrassment prickling under my skin.

"Yes, I'm sure," he tells me tersely, grabbing his bag and heading into the bathroom.

I let out a breath, my shoulders slumping.

I should be relieved he's keeping his distance. This is already awkward enough.

Still, I can't help but imagine what it would be like to have all that solid muscle and rough-hewn stone pressed against me...

I'm jolted out of my entirely inappropriate thoughts by the bathroom door opening. Graeme emerges, clad in only a pair of low-slung sweatpants.

Oh. Oh wow.

I try hard not to stare at the hard planes of his bare chest, the moonlight playing over the gray tones of his skin. I can see his wings for only the second time, huge and dark and unfurling powerfully behind him. They're gorgeous and intimidating.

Graeme is magnificent, like a statue of the perfect male, come to life.

My mouth is suddenly dry. Shit, he's so hot. It's easy to forget that when he's being an insufferable grump.

The tension in the air is like an invisible barrier that seems to push us together as the enchanted rose petals drift down around us.

Graeme arranges his pillow on the floor and lays down, the corded muscles of his arms flexing as he arranges his makeshift bed. His wings spread out across the floor. I have to literally tear my gaze away. I can hear my pulse thundering in my ears—I hope Graeme can't hear it, with his tuned-up gargoyle senses.

I'm in so much trouble.

Minx, as if sensing my inner turmoil, jumps up onto the bed and nuzzles against me, purring consolingly. I cuddle her close, forcing my breathing to slow, my mind to clear.

I'm here for Mariah. For my best friend. I can definitely, totally get through this week, and this impossible rooming situation, with my sanity and dignity intact.

I settle back against the pillows, trying to relax, as Minx trots down to the end of the bed and curls up into a tiny ball.

I will not think about Graeme's sculpted chest, or what his wings might feel like, or the insanely deep V on his hips, leading to gods-knows-what he's packing in those sweatpants…

And that's when it happens.

A telltale vibration underneath me.

Oh no. No, no, no.

I curse under my breath, kicking at the bed like that will make it stop. Quick, think of something unsexy . The forest. The rain. Rocks.

...Rocks the color of Graeme's skin. Graeme's bare skin, his arms that could probably lift me with ease, flip me over and...

The bed starts vibrating harder, the magic pulsing in time with my racing heart.

"Everything okay up there?" Graeme asks from the floor, his voice rough with sleep and possibly a tinge of amusement.

"Fine!" I yelp, sounding strangled. "Everything's fine!"

Minx chooses that moment to dig her claws into the bed, hissing at the aggressive lovebirds now swooping curiously over our heads.

I have a vivid mental image of her leaping up and tearing into the little puffballs with her teeth.

Feathers and tiny bird bones everywhere. Pure chaos.

...That does it. The vibrations stop.

I let out a shaky exhale and pull the pillow over my head, cocooning myself in darkness.

Four more nights. Four more nights of sharing this space with the most insufferably irresistible male I've ever met.

I don't know if my willpower can take it. But I have to try. For Mariah.