Lucien glanced at his watch and pushed his chair back.
“I have a couple of business calls to attend to first, though – I’m afraid they can’t wait.” He picked up his coffee cup and pushed back his seat. As he passed her chair he leaned down and kissed her full on the lips, unhurried and laden with desire. “Dress warm, Princess,” he murmured, and her heart softened at his solicitude.
“But don’t wear any knickers.”
“I can’t believe how beautiful it is out here.” Sophie turned her head and shaded her eyes to watch a bird of prey swoop down to catch something it had spotted in the undergrowth. They’d been walking for a little over half an hour, and already they seemed to be in a wilderness created just for them. Vibrant, autumnal russet reds and mustard golds covered the ground of the forest they walked alongside, and across the fjord the towering, grey-granite faces of the Alps donned jaunty white snow caps against the pale blue sky.
Back home in England, Sophie was accustomed to being hemmed in by the dense buildings and the bustle and traffic of city life, but out here she found she could really breathe. It was vast, and clean, and gloriously devoid of anyone but them. She snuggled her face into the soft, striped scarf she’d found in Lucien’s boot room, glad of its warmth against the chill in the air. Even under the wide, blue skies and pale, watery sunshine, there was no denying that the Arctic air held more than enough bite to turn cheeks pink and unprotected fingers cold.
She’d dressed carefully, hyper-aware of Lucien’s parting words as he’d left her after breakfast. She’d deliberated over whether to defy him and wear knickers, stepping in and out of them at least twice before making her final decision.
She’d settled on comfortable jeans with her favourite super-soft, slouchy, black sweater, then added a well-padded red ski jacket and winter woollies from Lucien’s boot room. She’d left her hair loose and gone for minimal makeup - the barest flick of mascara and lip-gloss. This environment screamed out for naturalness, and Sophie willingly complied.
Lucien was similarly attired for the elements: he even managed to make winter-wear sexy. His faded jeans clung to his lean muscles and his black windproof jacket worked to highlight his golden skin and steel eyes.
He turned to look at her. “It’s this way.” He reached for her hand and led her into the forest, leaves and twigs crackling beneath the weight of their boots.
“Are we headed somewhere particular?” she asked, as they moved deeper into the canopy of the trees.
Lucien’s mouth crinkled at the edges. “Yes.”
“Is it a secret?”
“No.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. They appeared to be playing the yes and no game.
“Is this non-secret place much further?”
In answer, Lucien put his hand on the small of her back and propelled her forward. Sophie found herself emerging from the cover of the trees into a circular clearing. Sunshine slanted down onto the glass-like surface of the pool at its centre, but it was the spectacular waterfall that stole Sophie’s breath away. Crystal clear, it streamed down the craggy rock face that towered along the side of the clearing, its splash a musical backing track in the otherwise silent afternoon.
It was the mystical cascade from all the fairy stories she’d loved as a child; a magical, secret glade.
“If Hansel and Gretel came out of the woods right now, I wouldn’t be surprised,” she murmured, enchanted. Not that there was anything childish about the man beside her, nor about the sensations happening between Sophie’s legs, thanks to the friction of jeans worn without knickers.
“Nobody here but us, Princess.”
Sophie accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand as he led her to the water’s edge, so clear that she could see the stones on the bottom of the pool and the tiny fish darting close to the surface. She reached down and trailed her fingers in the ice-cold water.
“You’re not planning on skinny dipping again, are you?” she asked. “Because gorgeous as this is, there’s no way you’re getting me in there.”
“Relax. No swimming required.”
They walked around the clearing and came to a halt near the waterfall. Sophie watched it, mesmerised, but when she turned her face up to speak to Lucien, the expression on his face stole the words from her lips.
He was somewhere far away from her, and wherever his memories had taken him, it wasn’t a happy place.
She reached a tentative hand up to touch his cool cheek and found him as graven as the rock face behind him.
“You look miles away.”
His eyes were clouded with emotion when he refocused and looked down at her.
“No, I was right here, just on a different day.”
“This is a regular haunt of yours, then? Don’t tell me… this is where you bring all the girls?” Sophie wanted to blow away the shadows from his eyes, hoping he’d smile at her teasing.
“I haven’t been up here in almost twenty years.”
“A childhood hide-out, then?”
She saw the shutters roll down on his emotions, and a predatory light replaced the dullness in his eyes.
“Too many questions, Ms. Black.”
He backed her against the nearest tree and lowered his head, his kiss hot and heavy on her lips. His tongue plunged into her mouth and flipped the kiss from sensual to sexual, and his clever fingers unwound the scarf from her neck, freeing more skin for him to stroke and kiss.
Swept up in his sudden switch from contemplative to sexy, Sophie didn’t register anything unusual about the way he linked her hands together behind the tree trunk. It was only when she felt the knotted scarf tighten around her wrists that she realised what was happening.
He’d tied her to the tree. An instinctive tug revealed that she was well and truly bound.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Would now be a good time to tell you I used to be a boy scout?” Lucien asked.
Somehow, the idea didn’t ring true.
“Why have you tied me to a tree?” she demanded. He plucked the woollen hat from her head and unzipped her jacket.
“It’s a game.”
“A game?”
He nodded. “You’ll like it.” He lifted her hair so it fell behind her shoulders and kissed her exposed neck. “It’s called Let’s show Sophie how fucking beautiful she is.”
Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. “Lucien…”
He lifted her sweater and fresh, cold air hit her midriff, then he bent and kissed her navel and all she registered was heat.