“I believe you opened your present last night.”Allie smiled as she squirmed out of his grasp. “More than once.”
Hudson groaned and ran a hand through his dark waves. He knew he had the look of being freshly fucked, although without the benefits it appeared. “Remind me again why we hosted a godforsaken slumber party.”
“Because,” Allie said as she retied the string on her borrowed pajamas and rolled the waist, “Lake Shore Drive was a parking lot, that’s why.”
“Well, if it’s not clear this morning I’ll shovel the damn thing myself.”
“Pants.” She reached for his hand and tugged him out of bed.
“This is not at all how I pictured the morning playing out,” he grumbled as he shuffled to the closet.
“And how did your version go?”
Hudson emerged from the walk-in tying his drawstring pants. Allie took one look at the expression on his face and began backing toward the double doors of the master suite. He caught up with her in three strides and planted his palms against the rich wood on either side of her head. “I envisioned,” he purred, his mouth hovering over hers, “diving under the sheets and fucking you with my tongue.”
The noise she made was practically a whimper. “Breakfast,” she breathed, “then you can have me all day.”
That promise clogged his mind as he reluctantly opened the door. He followed her down the hall, his arms wrapped around her waist and his lips pressed to her neck as he murmured all the ways he planned to have her naked. To punctuate the way he wanted to take her from behind, he swatted her ass. She yelped and covered herself, then came to an abrupt halt.
Hudson crashed into her.
“What the . . .” His voice intruded upon the scene in front of him: Harper and Nick looking warm and cozy in front of a fire crackling with its last breath of life. Jesus-H-Christ, they’d turned his living room into their own private campground. Thank fuck they were still wearing their clothes from the night before.
Allie composed herself quickly, a hell of a lot faster than he had, and greeted their guests with a wide smile. “Good morning, you two.”
“Hey, morning.” Nick quickly pushed to his feet. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas. How did . . .” Allie stumbled in the most marvelous way. He knew without a doubt that she was about to ask how they’d slept, but judging from their attire they hadn’t gotten one wink of shut-eye. “Ready for some bacon and eggs?” she recovered.
“The Alessandra Sinclair breakfast special?” Harper stood and ran a hand through her disheveled red curls.
“Hey, my breakfast-cooking skills have had rave reviews.” Allie glanced over her shoulder at Hudson, nearly knocking him flat on the ass with her knowing smile.
He was so shoveling that road.
She started toward the kitchen but stopped short at the sight of one last present he’d managed to sneak under the tree while she slept. Stealthy SOB that he was.
“What’s that?”
“If I tell you it defeats the purpose of wrapping.” An almost childlike grin curved his lips. “Open it and find out.”
Allie retrieved the box from under the tree and read the tag. Her eyes met his. “But you already gave me my gift last night.” She pulled one leg of the pajama bottoms up to reveal the diamond anklet he’d fastened to her at some point during their lovemaking. His cock nearly swore out loud thinking about it.
“Open it.”
Allie tugged at the black-and-silver ribbon, then lifted the glossy white lid revealing two tickets to . . . “The Orient Express?”
Hudson nodded. “We leave for Venice on Sunday and the train will have us in London by New Year’s Eve.”
“Are you serious?”
“You, me, and the mysteries of the Orient Express.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips, completely unconcerned by their audience.
And Hudson was so on board with it.
He slipped his arms around her and his shoulders rolled as he bent down to kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
“Wait.” She pulled back and her face fell. “Will the airports be back to normal by then?”
His smile widened. “Private plane, baby.” He placed his lips softly over hers, kissing her once, twice . . .
“Don’t you two ever quit?” Nick’s voice sucked the mood right out of the room.
Hudson groaned. At the moment he wasn’t feeling very down with the host-with-the-most gig, and hoped like hell that when breakfast was over the roads would be clear.
Chapter Twenty-three
Allie had flown on private planes countless times. Ingram Media had had a corporate jet for as long as she could remember. And although it was mainly used for business, over the years her mother had no problem commandeering it for vacations or last-minute shopping excursions to New York. But she’d never taken a private flight with the man she loved, and certainly not as part of a ridiculously romantic trip through Europe.
She reached across the limo bench and gave Hudson’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“Are you excited?” he asked.
“Very.” The same goofy grin she’d worn for the past few days stretched across her face. “I still can’t believe you were able to arrange this so quickly.” They’d only been back together for a little over two weeks, and yet during that time he’d somehow managed to plan a whirlwind trip aboard the Orient Express while simultaneously running two multibillion-dollar corporations. Not to mention indulging her every holiday whim.
“I’m a very resourceful man, Alessandra. Especially when there’s something I want.”
They pulled onto the tarmac, and after presenting their passports, boarded a white Gulfstream with the Chase Industries logo emblazoned on the tail. A flight attendant greeted them the moment they stepped onto the plane. She was a pretty girl in her midtwenties with jet-black hair pulled back in a scarf that matched her navy suit.
“Good evening, Mr. Chase, Miss Sinclair,” she said with a wide smile.
Hudson greeted her with a curt nod. “Evening, Natalie.”
“May I bring you something to drink before takeoff?”
“Pinot Grigio for Miss Sinclair, and I’ll have a scotch. Three fingers.”
“Right away.” She waited while Hudson helped Allie out of her coat, then shrugged off his own. He’d no sooner handed them over to Natalie when his phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen and frowned. “My brother,” he said before pressing the button. “Give me a minute.”
Hudson wandered toward the rear of the plane, allowing Allie a quiet moment to take in her surroundings. Unlike the Ingram jet, which was purchased with mainly corporate travel in mind, the Chase Industries plane was the pinnacle of sophisticated luxury. The décor was neutral with navy-blue accents and warm wood trims. A cream-colored leather sofa ran the length of the left side of the plane, while matching club chairs sat clustered around a flat-screen television on the right. Everything about the spacious interior was a statement of tasteful elegance. And whereas Ingram’s plane featured a long conference table in the back room, Allie was willing to bet the doorway Hudson had disappeared through led to a bedroom. One they’d no doubt make use of seeing as it was an overnight flight. A thrill shot through her at the thought of the two of them spending the night a mile high.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Hudson was behind her, powering off his phone.
“Just thinking about our flight plan,” she answered with a smile. “Everything okay with Nick?”