‘You’re sure you’re on the right road?’ she asked.
‘I’m sure.’
He drove for another ten minutes, taking them deeper into the forest. It felt as if they were miles from anywhere—as if they were entering a forbidden paradise. All trees and birds and isolation.
It was amazing.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he asked.
She just nodded, because words simply didn’t do it justice.
All of a sudden the road broadened, then ended in a wide circle. And at the apex a beautiful building had somehow materialised before them—a tall, two-storeyed, perfectly proportioned wooden palace.
The veranda that covered the deck, encircling it, was painted a lush green that blended with the forest canopy. The hotel was perfectly positioned to soak up the late-afternoon summer sun, and even from the car she could see it wasn’t some rough-hewn, hippy-ish bed and breakfast. The finish of the woodwork was perfect, and so finely detailed it had to have been built by master craftsmen.
It was like some sumptuous, treasure-filled hideaway found in a ‘journey-to-the-forbidden’ fantasy movie.
‘This is amazing. You’d never know it was here…’ She gazed up at it.
‘Exactly. Which is why it provides such seclusion. Wait ‘til you see the private swimming pool. And it’s not far to a lovely winery. Can’t be all bad.’
All bad? It was all brilliant.
She turned to Jack, entranced by his sudden infectiously buoyant mood. He walked round the front of the car and then opened her door, leaning over it to smile at her.
‘What do you think?’
Blinking, she forced herself to turn and look at the view that for a moment had paled in comparison to the sight of him.
She hadn’t seen such a beautiful place. Ever. Not in the photos her friends sent her to populate her blog with, not on the internet, not in the movies.
She stepped out of the car and slowly followed him towards the steps.
‘Don’t you need to check in with someone?’ Wouldn’t there be people around if this was a fancy hotel?
He turned and raised his brows at her.
‘Like a receptionist or a concierge or something?’ she elaborated.
He chuckled and shook his head. ‘The apartment is open—they know I’m coming. And I’ve been here before, so I know how it works.’
Had he brought a woman with him the last time he was here? She didn’t want to know.
‘This is an apartment?’
‘Yeah, this entire building is ours for the night.’
Not for the night. Not for her.
‘How…?’ She narrowed her eyes. How had the hotel known he was coming tonight? Wasn’t he earlier than planned? He’d been supposed to have a meeting with her…
But he was already climbing the stairs to that gorgeously ornate decking area.
‘Come and see inside,’ he called lazily.
Intrigued, she couldn’t resist following. She paused in the doorway, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the interior.
‘Come on!’ he teased.
The room wasn’t huge, but the interior was cool and inviting. A luxurious rug covered part of the polished wooden floor. The walls were painted white. A large painting hung over the mantelpiece. She knew it wasn’t a print but an original. Other art works adorned smaller spaces, and there was a sculpture displayed on a small plinth in one corner. Against the farthest wall there was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase—filled.
So pretty. So beautifully designed to draw her deeper and deeper into its delights.
There was a plush sofa, large enough for two to stretch out on, and two armchairs. And through the other door she could see the bedroom. All pure white linen, wooden bed-frame and tranquillity.
‘You can see the pool from this window,’ he called to her, from the window by the sculpture.
She walked over and peered out.
The pool was a glorious green-blue, built to look like any natural pond to be found in the heart of that gorgeous forest. To the side of it there were a couple of items of furniture—but the one that caught her eye was a beautiful wicker four-poster daybed, its thick mattress and plump cushions clad also in pure white linen. White drapes hung on three sides to protect its occupants from the sun… and from prying eyes…
The romantic atmosphere couldn’t be denied.
‘This is a couples’ retreat.’ She glanced away, trying not to be impressed—or aroused. ‘This is all massage and seclusion and…’
Intimacy. Isolation. And a really, really big bed. Two beds, in fact. One indoors. One out.
‘Massage?’ he queried, not innocently.
‘Yeah—you can’t tell me they don’t do massages and facials and deep tissue rejuvenation and stuff.’