Stolen, page 10
“Oh yes,” said the host with dead seriousness.
Janie’s eyes flew opened. That was not the expected answer.
“Oh good,” mused Harry. “Can you make sure ours is a haunted room?”
“It is,” said the host. “I am placing you in our Room No. 5. One of the Vallejo brothers is said to have stayed there after the great fire. You might see him pacing, but he’s a harmless presence…now.”
“Lovely,” muttered Janie, half afraid.
“Don’t worry baby,” teased Harry. “We’ll go drink wine and make you forget about ghosts.”
Janie snickered against the lid of her To-Go coffee as Harry carried collected both their bags in one hand as he took her hand with his, leading her upstairs. She could almost not believe that, when just a week or so ago, she was hating her job because of him, she was being led to a hotel room that they shared. By Wyler standards, the room was small. Janie grinned.
“What?” he asked, his face lit with mischief.
“You almost don’t fit in this room,” she said.
“Oh, it accommodates me just fine, horizontally,” he said with smoldering tone that knocked the stiffness from her spine.
And just like that moment changed. He cupped her face with his strong hands and pushed his fingers through her hair. She had not brushed it since she showered and the wind from the convertible gently tangled it. The least little tension combined with his touch unfurled currents, lighting up her arousal.
“Mmm,” she moaned as their mouths came together.
His hand slid down her back, to buttocks, lifting, guiding her as they pivoted and fell onto the bed. It was more cush than it appeared but it was not the lush, decadent ultra-expensive mattresses that she grew accustomed to while working for the Wylers.
“Oops,” he said. “Best not break the antiques.”
She giggled. She rolled onto her back, opening herself up to him. The hem of her light dress, lifted with their tumble and was scrunched up to her midriff. His palm found her flat, taut belly. He traced it with his fingers, studying it in the brighter light of day.
“Perfection,” he murmured.
Janie was a fool for his compliments; they went straight to her head, then washed through her on a molten path throughout her body. He slipped his fingers beneath her panties. She parted her thighs for him so that he could slip his fingers inside of her. She was slick with need.
He was fueled by the feel of her wetness. Harry furiously unfastened his jeans, kicking them down around his ankles. He slipped his hardness into her in a quick and urgent joining. Janie craved him as much as he craved her. Her body was sensitive from the night before and as intense and satisfying as that was, her senses raged as though it had been forever for her.
Her hips bucked against his rhythm which was which boisterous immediately. Harry seemed out of his mind with need. Janie locked her ankles around the small of his back and rode him through to a quick finish.
His powerful, hard body pushed into her with such a swift and steady pace, not letting up until she was spasming around him. Janie felt her core clutch and then roll against his length with thunderous clenching.
As she climaxed, Harry threw his head ceiling ward, trying his best to hold off and prolong the sweetness for as long as possible. Her passion triggered his and she felt his body cave to their delicious moment of passion. He sputtered and jerked and moaned as he was overcome.
Finally, he sank onto the mattress beside her. They both were paralyzed with their quick and furious pleasure, half gazing to the ceiling as their bodies hummed. After the only noise in the room was that of their heavy breathing, Harry laughed.
“Mm,” he declared. “Did we just have a quickie in front of General Vallejo?”
“I hope he had the decency to give us our privacy,” replied Janie.
She glanced at both their bodies and saw that they were still half-clad in their clothes. She grabbed her bag and dashed into the bathroom to freshen up.
“No fair,” he proclaimed. “You didn’t call dibs.”
“You snooze you lose, Wyler,” she replied through the closed door.
In not more than a moment, she emerged, her hair brushed of the tangles of sex and his expensive convertible. She touched up the slightest bit of makeup that she wore and she was ready to go taste wine with him.
“All yours,” she said as he was up and about to brush past her in the door way.
His eyes flared with alarm.
“Hey,” he said sharply and quickly turned to grope the bed. “Your earring.”
She touched her ear and felt one earring was not where it should be. Janie was flooded with adrenaline. Having done paperwork for the insurance company for Wyler valuables, she had a general idea of the earrings’ worth. Luckily Harry soon held up the missing earring so that the daylight streaming into the hotel window captured it dangling from his fingers.
“Man, that was close,” he said and he gently replaced it in her ear.
“Do you think it’s a good idea for me to wear these since we might get snockered tasting wine?” she said.
He stooped to her level so that his gorgeous face was directly from hers.
“They look beautiful,” he assured her. “Let’s enjoy them.”
He kissed her again with slow sensuality that could have easily led to more sex. Instead he broke the kiss and freshened up in the empty bathroom.
Chapter Fifteen
Janie didn’t know what possessed her but because she was able to, she checked in on a few of the Wyler credit card accounts that carried a card for Harry. It only took a second for Janie to confirm, Mrs. Wyler surprisingly followed through and canceled cards as threatened. As far as she could see, Harry didn’t have access to Wyler money.
As soon as Harry emerged from the bathroom, Janie tucked her phone face down onto the bed as though she had been caught red-handed. Harry didn’t miss it. His face was momentarily stern, as though he found her behavior suspicious.
“Ready?” he asked, studying her.
“Yeah,” she answered sweetly.
Janie felt guilty and she knew she wasn’t good at hiding that. She suddenly couldn’t shake the belief that he could somehow read her mind, but he never said anything.
“We don’t need to bring our phones with us, do we?” he asked.
She thought for a second and she couldn’t think of a reason. She powered her phone off.
“Nope,” she said.
He did the same and they each parked their devices on the nightstands on either side of the bed.
“Just bring your ID,” he said.
“Got it,” she said, patting her purse.
It already felt like days since Janie had been at the Woodside estate. The day was half gone. She technically running on fumes; she felt remarkably fresh. She knew sooner rather than later, she was going to hit a wall.
There were a couple of wineries within walking distance. They decided to stroll rather than take a car. Though the unfiltered California sun was constant, the temperatures were milder there in the north. The air was pleasant and the daylight was spectacular and vivid. The walk gave them the chance to see some of the historic tourist spot.
A mild breeze toyed with Janie’s light dress and lifted strands of her hair as she and Harry crossed the couple of blocks to the Cabot Winery. She wore her Louis Vuitton sunglasses which were a present from Mrs. Wyler. Janie didn’t want to love them but she did. She felt like she was in costume with the designer lenses and the exorbitant jewelry dangling from her ears. Every so often as she checked out the shadow that Harry and she cast on the sidewalk, she spied the shadow of the earrings dancing as she walked.
Cabot Winery was about as fancy as Swiss Hotel. Its entry way was reminiscent of a theme park Wild West re-creation. Janie was conditioned to expect lushly appointed spaces where she and Harry could lounge while Cabot Winery employees brought them samples of wine. This place was none of that; it was modular and practical. She wondered if she wasn’t turning into a Wyler herself.
“They have barrel tasting today,” noted Harry. “Interesting.”
“What’s that mean?” she asked.
“We’re essentially going to be their guinea pigs,” he said. “They want to know what we think.”
“Ah. So, my knowledge of wine is limited to what your mother’s caterer recommends,” she said. “I am going to follow your lead.”
“Oooh,” he sounded in a silky voice. “Living dangerously.”
He lined them up to a Cabot cabernet.
“Is there a tour?” asked Harry.
“Yes,” said the man. “In a few minutes.”
“We’ll try some of this cab,” said Harry.
“IDs,” asked the man.
The fact that they were IDed brought Janie back to earth. It was expected but it reminded her that she and Harry were very young. He was feeling like a grown established man to her and he made her feel like a woman; she relied on him for little choices, like the hotel and the wine they drank. He fished his ID out of his wallet. He was still a student. She was still deliberating her life choices. And yet her sentiments for him seemed very real, very grown up.
As it was opened, Janie spotted his school ID and a picture of really beautiful girl. She had never seen Allegra so she wondered if it might be her; but then he promised they didn’t have that kind of relationship. She quietly reached over and touched the picture.
“That’s my cousin Rachel,” he said casually.
“Pretty,” remarked Janie.
“We have a better relationship than I do with my own sibs,” he said.
“Are you in touch with any of them?” she asked. “I used to have more to do with them, I mean via email, but not so much anymore.”
“No not really,” he replied. “We all went to boarding schools so we didn’t even grow up together. We didn’t even go to the same schools. I went to Bellarmine but none of my brothers did and of course, Cristobel could not.”
As soon as Harry identified the girl in his wallet, Janie saw the family resemblance. As conditioned as she was to expect fine accommodations, she was acutely aware the she expected the worst from Harry and that was why when he was the complete opposite, she was floored. If he only knew, she thought. He handed her a glass and she sipped.
“That’s delicious,” she said.
“Winter nights, right?” he winked.
“Yeah,” she smiled warmly at him.
He put his mouth to her ear to whisper.
“We can play winter nights tonight if you want,” he suggested devilishly.
Every erogenous point in her body was lit with the heat of his whisper. It fueled with the fire within her already burning for him. Janie’s breath dragged her throat.
“Drink,” he mused as he coaxed her glass to her lips with the gentle nudge of his hand.
They cleansed their pallets with plain squares of French bread.
“Something a little more playful,” he suggested, feeding her an amber wine.
“Mm,” she remarked. “Dessert.”
“Perfect with Cheesecake,” he remarked. “It’s a pinot noir blanc.”
Her eyes gathered as she smiled wide.
“You are making me hot with menu words,” she said dreamily.
“Good to know,” he replied, his expression simmering.
They had only had sips of wine but Janie was definitely affected. She was pleasantly drowsy as the man announced the tour. Harry took her hand in his and did not let it go until they left the winery.
The guide led them to a row of giant wooden kegs and began telling the history of Cabot Winery. Janie planned to tune out as he began to hail the virtues of oak aging, but she was surprised. He told a sweet story of the winery’s beginnings.
“Cabot was founded by Jonathan and Greer Cabot. Both Mr. and Mrs. Cabot had promising careers and were on the path to make a lot of money but they went against the wishes of their families and ditched their jobs. They sunk all that they had to buy what was once a simple farm,” he said.
Janie was hooked. She admired someone who knew what they wanted. Harry gave her hand a squeeze.
“If you had turned left instead of following me past the tasting counter, you would see many of the artifacts of the Cabots’ love affair over the years. Jonathan Cabot was a great letter writer and sent his wife of over forty years, many love notes, some of which are on display for our guests,” he said.
Janie glanced at Harry. She was now fully enthralled in the story. It was about the most romantic thing she had ever heard.
“Have you been here before?” she whispered.
He grinned; his eyes filled with affection.
“Yes, but I never took the tour,” he replied softly. “I just drank the wine and left. I’m glad I’m sharing this with you.”
He held his finger to his sweet, full lips to shush her, then touched her lips. They both turned, to listen to the guide regale the feats of the winery owners.
“The young Cabots were a couple with passion for each other, for farming, enduring love of family,” he continued. “We believe that it was that passion and those values that make our wine different from all the rest. And today, Cabot is a thriving, well-respected operation industry-wide.”
The tour guide paused and took a bottle in hand, from a stocked shelf aside a keg.
“This is a bottle of Cuvee Greer,” he said. “In honor of the missus who passed away a few years ago. It’s a pinot noir, a little different from the one you tasted. This was her favorite.”
“She passed?” Janie’s voice cracked.
“I’m afraid so,” replied the tour guide. “Greer Cabot, our beloved founder, beloved wife, mother, grandmother… the Cabot matriarch. But she lives on in the essence of our wine.”
“We’ll take a bottle,” said Harry, tightening his hold on Janie’s hand.
His concession to buy the bottle pretty much ended the tour for Janie and Harry. The tour led the small group forward while Harry and Janie went back to the front of the winery to buy their wine.
“We should go grab a taste some of this,” he suggested.
“I need drink,” Janie declared. “That was too emotional.”
As the clerk rang up the bottle of the pinot noir, Harry inquired, “Do you think we can get a taste of this? Is there any for sample?”
Janie casually glanced the display on the cash register. Her head nearly popped when she saw the price of the bottle. It was more than a night’s stay at the Swiss Hotel.
“I’ll pay half,” she whispered, even she might not have bought the bottle herself.
She was certain the story was true, that Mr. and Mrs. Cabot had a romantic beginning and that she eventually passed, but Janie could not help but think that the story was one big sales wind-up. Still, the tale brought tears to her eyes.
“You will not,” Harry said with mock-firmness.
He flashed a dark sensual look to her that penetrated her to her center. He winked. That was becoming one of her most favorite habits of his.
“You wanna go check out another winery?” he asked.
He dabbed her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he laughed softly.
“I’m a sucker,” she replied.
He kissed her forehead.
“Softy maybe,” he corrected. “Not a sucker.”
Chapter Sixteen
As soon as they stepped out of the Cabot Winery, the wall of exhaustion that Janie anticipated was before her. She officially ran out of steam. With too little sleep, a lot of physical and emotional activity and a relatively early start to their day, she needed a nap.
“Harry,” she clutched his arm.
He on the other hand, seemed bright and raring to go. But he took one look at her and knew what she needed.
“Let’s go back,” he said. “We’ll get some sleep sleep and then resume.”
“Yesss,” she replied, dragging by the second.
He pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Poor baby,” he murmured.
She leaned on him as they wove their arms together, strolling to the few blocks to the Swiss Hotel. Janie wondered how, despite being the son of the ultra-frigid Lola and Samuel Wyler, did he manage to become such a warm and affectionate person?
Each time they hugged or kissed randomly, she soaked it up. She had been starved not just for passion, but just the humanity that Harry offered. He braced the small of her back, guiding her, supporting her as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. It did not help that the sun was just past noon. Even with her sunglasses, Janie fought against the urge to close her eyes.
They dashed into the hotel and up the stairs to their room. Tired as she was, it seemed silly to take the elevator to a level that could be seen plain as day from the entry of the hotel. As soon as they were inside the door of their room, Janet plunked down on the mattress. She literally crashed.
Harry didn’t pile onto the bed with her, at first. He very gently rounded to the end of the bed, and removed her shoes. Fortunately, they were opened shoes or she might a little self-conscious that.
“You’re so sweet,” she murmured, barely able to hold onto consciousness. “Just five minutes.”
“Take all the time you need,” he replied softly.
She heard him set the glass bottle that they purchased at Cabot, onto the dresser. The bed depressed under his weight as he removed his own shoes. Reflexively, she turned to her side to make room for him as he spooned up against her.
It wasn’t a sexual moment; it was total affection and a loving moment. The warmth and comfort and solidness of Harry’s body up against hers let Janie drift safely to an intensely deep sleep. So busy both physically and emotionally. The last few days and weeks had her mind in a million different places; her heart and her dreams processing so many different considerations, not to mention the physical sweetness she and Harried shared. Janie was spent in a way that no task list from Mrs. Wyler ever wasted her.
