The Honeymoon Trap Read Online Free PDF Page A

luxury of the hotel’s interior. The Italian marble floor gleamed white, with black strips radiating out from a center point like a giant wheel. Above that central focus hung a huge crystal chandelier and above that was a glass dome that bathed everything below it in light. Tall floral displays dotted side tables and the reception desk – native Australian waratah flowers in brilliant red and purest white.
    Zoey was so busy gaping that it took her a while to realize that quite a few people were gaping back. Her costume drew the eye; her costumes always commanded attention. She wouldn’t have been doing her job properly if they hadn’t.
    What she wasn’t used to was feeling all hot and bothered beneath the steady gaze of a beautiful grey-eyed man. A man whose shoulders strained the seams of his T-shirt. A man whose jeans and steel-capped work boots should have looked out of place here, only they didn’t because they were on him and he was spectacular. He needed no costume to draw the eye, there were plenty of people looking his way, though he didn’t seem to notice.
    Zoey rummaged in her reticule for her phone. The reticule was a replica of an 1880’s museum piece, the phone was pure modern convenience. One click and she’d captured him, and then – as if sensing her presence – he turned and looked her way and she caught him on camera again.
    He moved towards her and Zoey felt her breath catch. There was a physicality about Eli Jackson that spoke of action rather than words, a grace that implied perfect balance and a commanding strength.
    ‘I have our room keys,’ he said when he reached her.
    ‘I need to make you a top coat.’
    ‘You really don’t.’
    Not a big conversationalist, Eli, but she knew that of old. It had taken months of online gaming before he’d even ventured a hey, Fuzzy, you there? by way of greeting. Eli was shy. Zoey was not. That they complemented each other when gaming online didn’t necessarily mean that putting them together in person would produce similar results.
    The man was uncomfortable in her presence, and maybe it was the costume, and maybe it was his innate shyness winning out, or maybe, just maybe it was because he sensed her sexual interest in him and he didn’t like it. Maybe it was time to stop looking at him and wondering what it might be like to have him lean a little closer and put his big hand to her waist and smile just for her.
    There were twenty-nine floors to this hotel and their suite was on the top one. The recessed entry area and motion sensor chandelier promised good things to come.
    And then they were in and there was more marble, and ornately carved wooden furniture and the fabrics, oh, the fabrics. Zoey took one look at the plum-colored velvet drapes and started peeling her gloves off, draping them over the back of the nearest chair as she crossed the room and reached out to touch luscious looking velvet. One stroke, and then another, and then she was gathering up the fabric and draping it across her body, reveling in the thickness of the pile and the softness beneath her fingers. ‘I think it’s silk. Do you think they’d miss it?’
    He laughed as if he couldn’t help it and she hid her delighted response behind a swathe of velvet curtain as she looked around and spotted a table for two, groaning with silverware, fine linen and candles. A bottle of champagne stood on ice next to a silver bowl full of strawberries. Her grin widened. ‘We should get married more often. Where’s the bedroom?’ Not that she’d be sleeping in it. The day bed over by the other window would sleep her easily, but the fabrics in here were amazing and she wanted to see what the bed was wearing.
    Eli looked around and headed for the louvered panels that ran the length of one wall. He slid the middle pair apart and then the next, and then the next, and there stood a huge four poster bed covered with silks and cushions in every bold color imaginable. Behind the bed, on the