She waited a beat, but nothing came. “So…” Feeling flustered, she scratched the back of her neck. “Um, I just, I didn’t know—”

“Annika.”

She looked back up at him.

“I’m going to my room.”

“Right,” she said finally, nodding briskly. “Good idea. We have an early start tomorrow, and I can’t sleep in hotels, so … yeah. Good.” Ugh. She sounded completely unconvincing and defensive. Blinking, she looked at the harpist playing her happy little song, entirely oblivious.

“Annika.”

She forced herself to look at him again, rearranging her expression so it was not at all hurt, not at all vulnerable. When their eyes met, though, her mouth went dry at his intensity—the deep desire, the laser focus.

“I’m going up to my room, and I’d very much like it if you would join me.” He took her hand.

Oh. Oh. Annika felt her hands begin to tremble. “I’d—I’d love to,” she said, unable to breathe.

Smiling faintly, Hudson laced his confident fingers around hers, stilling them. They walked to the elevators together in silence, her hand practically singing at his touch.

chapter nineteen

His room was extravagant—twice as big as hers, and on the top floor, with a sweeping view of the vineyards and fields that were now bathed in ribbons of moonlight and shadow. The walls were wallpapered in textured white linen shot through with silver threads.

As her eyes swept over the gold sofa by the window, Annika suddenly remembered their time in Vegas, when they were draped over each other on the couch in her room.

Well, to be fair, she’d been the one to drape herself over Hudson.

“It’s going to be about second chances,” she told him, sitting so close their thighs were touching. She leaned over in a way she knew exposed her breasts in a very flattering way. “Maybe bringing exes back together or something. Happily ever after, redux.”

“Right.” His eyes dropped to her cleavage, as she knew they would, but unlike most guys, he made a valiant and successful effort to look back at her face. “That’s a really good idea,” he said, sounding like he meant it.

“And maybe it’ll monitor their vitals to read their comfort level,” Annika continued. “Maybe via their smartwatch.” She caressed his wrist lightly, her fingers moving to the underside of his arm, finding his pulse. “It would read an elevated heart rate. Things like that.”

Hudson looked at her, his eyes drifting to her lips. “Really? What’s my heart rate like right now?”

She smiled and moved in closer. “Pretty high, Mr. Craft. I think you’re in dire straits.”

His hand found the edge of her pencil skirt and began sliding up her thigh. “Mm,” he said, placing his lips over hers. “I think you might be right.”