Love in Maine (19 page)

Damn. Did she call in a favor and get the suite at the Ritz or stick to the bet and
only use the money she’d made at Phil’s? She had saved nearly four thousand dollars
over the past twelve weeks. She clicked on the hotel Web site to see what it would
cost if she didn’t call her father’s secretary the way she usually did.

“Holy hell!” Maddie cried out.

Hank laughed. “What’s the matter?”

“An executive suite at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston is $745 . . . a night! If we spend
Labor Day weekend there it would be . . .”

“Two thousand, two hundred and thirty-five dollars,” Hank said.

“And that’s not even including taxes and parking and meals. I mean . . . who stays
there?”

“You.”

She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Well?” he asked. “Have you ever stayed there?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t going to lie about it.

“In a suite?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her spine stiffened involuntarily. Hank got up off the couch. Of course,
now
he would lose interest in his diving magazine, because he saw an opportunity to give
her a hard time.

The photos of the suite were up on his big, flat-panel computer screen. “Have you
stayed in that one?” He began caressing the tender skin at the base of her neck, under
her pony tail.

She began melting into him. “
Mm-hmmm
.”

“Go to the next one up . . . we’re not executives. Go to the Park View Suite . . .”

Maddie used the wireless mouse to click on the pictures and the floor plan. Her fingers
were shaky because he kept up that sexy touching the whole time.

“That’s the one,” Hank said. “I want to sleep with you in that bed.”

The groan that escaped Maddie was completely his doing. “Let me see how much it is
. . .” Her voice was raspy. She had to bite her teeth together to hold her concentration.
She clicked away from the photo section to the reservation section. “Yeah, that’s
not going to work,” Maddie muttered.

“How much?” Hank had begun kissing her neck as well as touching her.

“Three thousand . . . six hundred . . . a night . . .” She was starting to slither
off the stool. “I can’t afford that.”

“My treat,” Hank whispered as he reached his hand up under her T-shirt and pulled
her back into him, his strong hand flat against the quivering muscles across her stomach.

“That’s over ten thousand dollars, Hank,” she said, thinking he must have misheard.

“You’re worth it, beautiful.” He pulled her up into his arms and had her naked and
flat out on the sofa in under a minute.

So they spent Labor Day weekend at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston. For the rest of her
life, Maddie would look back on that weekend as the last weekend they were together
in their innocence. Before everything else happened.

Maddie packed up all of her measly possessions and said good-bye to Janet and Phil
and Sharon on Friday morning. The drive from Blake to Boston took about three hours.
As Hank’s big, silver-gray pickup truck pulled up in front of the modern glamour of
the Ritz, Maddie’s heart started pounding. She had thought it might be odd to see
Hank so far out of his element, but it turned out she was the one going through some
sort of weird urban reentry. She’d thought the Ritz would feel like coming home. Not
like she had been Eloise or anything, but it was sort of a family tradition that the
Posts would go into Boston a week or two before Christmas and shop and see a show
and spend the night at the Ritz. In Maddie’s mind, it was always the original Ritz,
over on Arlington, which had changed hands years ago, but the feeling was the same
at the new, modern building across the park. Checking into a hotel always felt . . .
promising.

“Ready?” Hank asked. He reached across the front seat and pulled her hand into his.
The valet car-parker had already pulled open the large truck door and was waiting
at attention for Hank to step out.

“Yes,” Maddie said. “I’m so excited.”

Hank leaned in closer and whispered so his lips touched the curve of her ear. “Good,
because I love it when you’re excited.”

He might as well have put his hand between her thighs: that was how much it turned
her on. Before she could gather her scattered thoughts, Hank had hopped out of the
car with a jovial, “Thanks!” to the car-parker. He talked to the guy for a few seconds
while Maddie tried to become a little less flustered.

“Just the two bags in the backseat,” Hank was saying. “I’ll grab the backpack.” He
reached into the backseat and pulled out his canvas rucksack, then winked at Maddie.
“Hustle up, I want you in that bed, pronto,” he said from the backseat.

Maddie jumped out of the car, her door also held open by a uniformed attendant, and
followed Hank into the soaring glass-and-marble lobby. He took her hand, and they
walked together to the check-in desk.

“Hello, may I help you?” The days of checking the Social Register to see if someone
was of a high enough quality to stay at the Ritz-Carlton were long gone. Maddie was
in her usual tight black T-shirt and shorts, and Hank was in a . . .

Hank looked like a frigging movie star. Maddie sized him up from a first-glance perspective
and she smiled and turned to the smiling attendant. Maddie’s look of smug satisfaction
pretty much exuded,
Yeah, I’m with him.
She hadn’t really noticed anything different about his appearance. Sometimes he wore
the white-collared shirt and trim khakis that he had on today, instead of his usual
uniform of gray T-shirt and cargo shorts. So what? But with his aviator sunglasses
and backpack slung easily over one shoulder, Maddie realized, he looked exactly like
a younger, hotter James eff-ing Bond checking into one of those tropical resorts after
spending the morning chasing bad guys in his Aston Martin.

“Gilbertson,” Hank said. “The Park View Suite.”

Maddie gazed up at him like a silly teenager. He looked like a rock star, so she might
as well swoon a little.

“Excellent,” the professional attendant said. “Will you be using the credit card that
you used to reserve the room?” She looked from Hank to Maddie without a blink. Clearly
there was no snobbery. Despite the glamorous surroundings, it all felt particularly
egalitarian. All who could afford to stay here were quite equal to one another.

“Yes, here’s the card and my ID.” Hank passed his cards across the cool marble, and
the woman took them and put the information into the computer. A couple of minutes
later, she passed him a small gray packet holding the room cards. “You have access
to our club level, so please feel free to join us for a complimentary cocktail after
five. The gym and the pool are open until midnight. If you need anything at all, my
name is Jane,” she said, then gestured behind Maddie and Hank to the valet. “And this
is Vince, who will show you to your suite.”

“Great. Thanks, Jane.”

The woman smiled at Maddie, then back at Hank. “Have a great weekend.”

Hank pulled Maddie along as she called over her shoulder, “I think we will!”

They rode up in the elevator in a simmering silence. The bellman looked up at the
digital numbers. Up. Up. Up. Every passing level cranked up Maddie’s adrenaline until
she was set to burst when the doors finally opened at their floor.

Hank hauled her out behind the bellman’s luggage cart. Kind Vince opened the door
for them and set their luggage on the racks in the bedroom. He gave them a brief tour
of the large suite, pointing out the safe and the refrigerator, and asking if there
was anything else they needed.

Hank handed him a twenty-dollar bill and the man (
finally
, thought Maddie) left.

When Hank came back into the living room from the darkness of the small hallway that
led to the door, he said, “Get undressed, Maddie.” He kicked off his shoes and pulled
his button-down shirt up over his head. He tossed it on the back of one of the upholstered
chairs. Maddie froze. Hank looked so predatory and delicious, she didn’t know whether
to run toward him or away. He began to unbuckle his belt, her eyes glued to his hands
and their deft movements.

“Maddie!”

She looked up into his eyes. “Uh. Yeah?”

“Take. Your. Clothes. Off. Now.”

“Oh, right.” She fumbled with the button closure of her shorts and then bent over
awkwardly, pulling off her sneakers and socks, then pulling off the shorts. She pulled
her T-shirt off and let it drop on the floor next to the shorts and shoes. She stood
there in her bra and underwear and stared at Hank’s naked form as he moved around
the space.

He looked like he was doing forward recon. Opening cabinets, looking in closets. Then
he pulled open the refrigerator and took out a bottle of champagne.

“What do we have here?”

Maddie stared at the flinch and ripple of his shoulder muscles as he popped the cork
on the champagne bottle. He pulled two glasses from the small cabinet next to the
refrigerator and poured.

He walked to where she was standing. She realized that she had foolishly thought that
Hank would be entering
her
world, or some stupid idea of the world of luxury and privilege that she had grown
up in and around. What a fool.

Hank was a total master of his surroundings. Of course he had some secret huge bank
account that he never touched. Of course he could stroll into one of the most expensive
rooms in one of the most expensive hotels in the world, and it would belong to him.

“Drink.” He put the cold glass against Maddie’s lower lip and tilted it into her mouth.
He poured slowly but he didn’t stop. Maddie nearly lost the rhythm of swallowing,
then closed her eyes and relished the spark and
ping
of the bubbles as they slid down her throat. “That’s my girl.” When he pulled the
empty glass away from her lips, Maddie opened her shining eyes, and Hank filled her
entire field of vision. His face, his smiling lips, his broad naked shoulders. His
chest.

“I am, you know,” she whispered.

“What are you?” He put both of the glasses on the dining room table behind Maddie
and then began touching her . . . lightly along her shoulders, down the length of
her bare arms, dragging his knuckles across the lace of her bra.

“I’m your girl. I’m yours.” Her voice was so quiet she almost hoped he wouldn’t really
hear her.

“I know.” He dipped his head to hers and began kissing her, so slowly, with light
tenderness, and then his hands gripped her waist and pulled her against him. She cried
a low moan into his mouth. That set him off. Almost angry, he plunged deeper into
her mouth, then lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom.

“Did you bring a sexy dress?”

Maddie was like a loose pile of useless muscle and bone. They’d been in that luxurious
bedroom for over two hours, and she wasn’t sure she could stand, much less put on
a dress and go out to dinner. Hank was in the huge marble bathroom, freshly showered,
naked and shaving. Back to business as usual. How was that even possible?

“Maddie?” He was pulling at his jaw to get a closer shave.

“
Mm-hmm?
”

He smiled into the mirror. “Get out of bed and into the shower. I need to see you
against skyscrapers, remember?”

Maddie carefully peeled herself off the mattress, then sat at the end of the bed until
she was certain her legs would carry her the short distance to the bathroom.

She let her fingertips drag across Hank’s lower back when she passed behind him on
the way toward the shower. “Yes. I brought a dress. I don’t know how sexy it is.”
She turned on the hot spray and stepped into the steaming glass shower enclosure.

He finished shaving and turned to watch her in the cascading water.

“Cut that out,” Maddie said. “Go get ready and wait for me in the living room. Let
me get all pretty and surprise you.”

“Okay, okay.” He tossed the hand towel on the marble counter next to the sink and
left the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

Maddie had never been one for extensive makeup to begin with, but she only had the
bare minimum with her, in any case. After she got out of the shower and had twisted
her hair up into a towel, she opened up her small cosmetics bag and set about making
herself up. She took her time with the mascara and eye shadow and put a little bit
of powder on her forehead and under her eyes. She didn’t need to add any color to
her cheeks, seeing as Hank kept her in a perpetual flush. She added some sexy, dark
red lipstick.

She took the towel off her head and flipped her head over. She didn’t have any hair
gel or mousse, so she decided to go with a loose-curled look. Her hair was dry and
shimmering down past her shoulders a few minutes later.

“Can I come out now?” Maddie called.

“I’m in the living room,” came Hank’s muffled reply. “You’re all good.”

She stepped out into the empty bedroom and went over to her duffle bag. She pulled
out a little black dress that was made of that stretchy material that never wrinkled.
Maddie laid it on the bed. She reached back into her bag and pulled out her favorite
red bra and underwear set, then slipped them on and pulled the dress over her head.
She wished she had a pair of killer heels for once in her life, but settled on the
shiny silver sandals she’d worn that first day in Blake, and hadn’t had on since.

As she put on a pair of silver hoop earrings and her wide silver cuff, she was overcome
with a strange melancholy, imagining how good it would feel to get ready like this,
for Hank, for the rest of her life. She gathered her disintegrating feelings and took
a good long look at herself in the full-length mirror that was leaning against the
far wall. Good enough.

She walked out into the living room.

“Not a lot to work with, I’m afraid.” Maddie gestured down at herself, feeling prettier
than she had all summer, but still rather plain compared to what she could have looked
like with open access to her full arsenal of clothes and shoes.