Getting Lost Page 12

  She opened the sliding doors to reveal an amazing view of Rome. A warm breeze circulated air through the expansive room.

  Stella begrudgingly spread her paperwork all over the small dining table. The next stop was Corfu in Greece, and although it was the longest stay—three nights—and in the most luxurious resort they frequented, Corfu always required meticulous organisation. Stella fastidiously booked scuba diving and island cruising, water skiing, parasailing, and fishing. It was relaxing upon arrival, but the planning could be a nightmare. Tonight, she would e-mail her requirements, then tomorrow evening, she would call everyone to confirm. Everything in Corfu required double-checking.

  *

  “Wow.” Phoebe scanned the fancy room. “Nice place.”

  Stella was often upgraded to deluxe rooms, and this two-bedroom suite was spacious and modern.

  “I tried to get back to you for dinner, but I went exploring farther than I anticipated. My phone battery died.” Phoebe held her dead phone aloft before plugging it in to charge.

  Stella attempted a nonchalant demeanour, but she was so pleased to see Phoebe, she only managed to come across as awkward and goofy. She went directly to the minibar. “Can I fix you a drink?”

  “Sure, vodka if there’s any.” Phoebe disappeared into the smaller of the two bedrooms.

  Stella’s heart sank. She wanted to believe Phoebe was merely using the room to store her suitcase, but she couldn’t be certain. She pushed the disappointment from her mind and concentrated on preparing the drinks. One thing was certain: she couldn’t rush Phoebe. Her disappointment was selfish. The pace of their relationship should be dictated by Phoebe, she knew that.

  “That night in Nice, what do you think really happened?” Stella realised she was so relieved to have Phoebe back safe, she needed to know if Phoebe was in danger wandering alone through European cities.

  Phoebe stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “You’re worried because of what I told you the other night, right?”

  “I know you’re on this tour to stay under the radar, but what if they know you’re here already?”

  Phoebe took the drink Stella offered and they both sat on the couch. Comfortably close, but not touching. “It may not just be Nice.”

  “What? Has something else happened to you that I don’t know about?”

  “Oh, you know about it.” Phoebe waited but continued when Stella offered nothing. “Paris and Pippy?”

  “Holy Jesus.” Stella relived the horrible morning at the Metro station.

  “It was heaving with people and it was noisy. I didn’t see the footage, but I’m not convinced those thieves were in that station and on that platform by chance.”

  “But it was the thieves who ultimately pulled Pippy to safety. Why push her then save her?”

  Phoebe waited for Stella’s brain to catch up.

  “Because they knew it wasn’t you. Because they pushed the wrong person.” Stella paced the room. “Fucking hell, Phoebe, they tried to kill you.”

  “Or scare me. Either is possible.”

  “This is big, Phoebe. The police couldn’t establish who pushed Pippy, so if they had pushed you and you died, your murder would have looked like an accident.”

  “You know what they say. One incident is generally just that; an incident. Twice is a coincidence, but three times suggests you’re being played.”

  “So at the moment, we’re at coincidence, right?”

  Phoebe hesitated.

  “We’re not at coincidence? Why are we not at coincidence? Did something happen today?”

  “I thought I was being followed today.”

  “And when on earth were you intending to mention this to me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you. I thought I kept seeing the same person. Always from a distance, but I just can’t be sure. It was just a feeling I guess.”

  “That’s why you’re so late isn’t it?” Stella hated putting two and two together and ending up with four. She realised she wasn’t prepared for an actual threat. She’d initiated the conversation to be reassured, to have Phoebe smile and pat her on the hand and tell her it was all in her wild little imagination. She felt like an idiot. The problem was real. The threat was real, and it was all much bigger than she had originally anticipated.

  Phoebe touched her knee. “Honestly, I don’t know for sure, so let’s leave it at coincidence for now, okay?”

  Stella nodded and glanced at her watch. If Phoebe wasn’t sure, she wasn’t sure. Unfortunately, the little voice in the back of her mind said that Phoebe probably was sure. Damn it. She changed the subject. “Foot massage?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. Can I jump in the shower first?”

  “Of course,” said Stella. What she really wanted to say was “can I join you,” but it was too forward and Phoebe should really be the one to offer. She didn’t offer.

  Stella paced back and forth on the balcony, her imagination switching between Phoebe naked under a steady stream of water and Phoebe being followed by a nut case. She preferred the shower option but couldn’t shake the other.

  Four drinks and four massaged feet later, Stella couldn’t stifle her yawns any longer. It was late. The issue of the sleeping arrangements was yet to be resolved. “We really should go to bed.”

  Phoebe nodded, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Stella realised she would have to do all the talking around this subject. She took the direct approach. “You’re welcome to share with me, but I realise you may not want to. If we keep our doors open we’re at least technically sharing the same space.” She shrugged. “Might be a good place to start?”

  “I think it’s a very good place to start.” Phoebe smiled. “Thanks for giving me space but still being here at the same time.”

  Stella smiled and kissed Phoebe good night on the cheek. “Sleep well.”

  Phoebe grabbed Stella by the front of her top. “I hardly think that pathetic effort will make the grade. Want to try that again?”

  Stella was happy to give it another go. This time her lips lingered near Phoebe’s, but before they touched, she whispered, “Is this better?”

  It obviously was because Phoebe’s arm encircled Stella’s waist and they kissed sensually. There was no urgency, just a little tongue, and definitely a bucket load of sexiness.

  “Much better.” Phoebe gently patted Stella’s backside before leaving.

  Parting to sleep in separate rooms left Stella feeling incomplete. She pushed her door wide open in the hope of convincing herself Phoebe was only a matter of metres away, but it was hardly the same as sharing a bed.

  Thoughts of their conversation that evening darted back and forth in her brain. She rarely found it difficult to sleep, but tonight she tossed and turned, listening to every noise and creak in the hotel. Twice she jumped out of bed and snuck into the lounge room, convincing herself someone was there. On the second occasion, Phoebe emerged from her room.

  “Can’t sleep either?” Phoebe yawned.

  “You heard that noise, too?”

  “What noise? I need a drink of water.” Phoebe gulped the water like it was her last drink.

  Stella sighed. “I thought I heard a noise, that’s all.”

  “Are you frightened?”

  “No. Of course not.” It was mid-summer in Europe and Stella was shivering. “Maybe just a little.”

  “The door to the hall and the balcony is locked. I checked earlier. No one can get in.”

  “I know. I guess I’m just more worried than I care to admit.”

  “I’ve thought about this, Stella. I think you’re perfectly safe. No one at the hotel knows we’re sharing a room, and to be honest, hotels have security cameras everywhere these days. I don’t mean to frighten you, but if we are being targeted, we’re safer here than out on the streets where there are people everywhere and where every other CCTV camera is probably broken.”

  Stella hesitated. “It’s not just me I’m worried about. Actually, it’s not me I’m worried ab
out at all.” Tears filled her eyes. She hated the type of crying that snuck up on you, and this was one of those moments.

  “Oh, come here.” Phoebe drew her into a firm embrace. “Please don’t cry. We don’t know for sure if anything’s going on, but we’ll be vigilant, we’ll look out for each other, and we’ll take it day by day.”

  “Should we go to the police?”

  Phoebe seemed to weigh up the suggestion. “I can’t see it helping at this stage to be honest. The police are investigating the Pippy incident regardless, and the other stuff would just be put down to my paranoia.” Her eyes saddened. “Plus you saw how I was treated at Calais. I’m not banned from travel, but I’m a person of interest. I don’t want to risk being held up.”

  Stella knew Phoebe was right. Without a criminal record, it was unlikely Phoebe could be refused entry in any country simply on the grounds of suspicion of murder, but somehow her name had been flagged on the French immigration system. Someone in Australia wanted to keep tabs on her, and Stella hoped to God it was the right people.

  “Maybe we’ll both sleep better in the same room.” Phoebe kissed the top of Stella’s head.

  Stella nodded. If Phoebe was right there next to her, it would be one less thing playing on her mind beyond the walls of her room.

  Stella, in nothing but a singlet, and Phoebe in her little pyjamas, silently crawled into Stella’s bed. Both were exhausted.

  “Good night,” said Stella.

  Phoebe reached for Stella’s hand. “Good night, Stella. Try not to worry.”

  Stella mumbled acknowledgment, surprised to find she had already relaxed enough to let sleep begin to take her over.

  What felt like hours later, Stella stirred. She relaxed immediately, unconcerned about Phoebe’s whereabouts. She was right beside her. Their embrace wasn’t such that they were entwined in each other’s bodies. On the contrary, Stella had rolled over into the foetal position, tightly hugging Phoebe’s arm. With nowhere else to go, Phoebe’s hand rested gently on Stella’s knee. She smiled to herself. Awareness of the contact and connection between them electrified her. Phoebe squeezed her knee and sighed. Stella knew she was still asleep, but the simple fact they remained physically connected, seemed magical in the early hours of a new day. Contented, she allowed her eyes to close.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A sliver of light slowly passed over Stella’s forehead annoyingly creeping across her eyes until the pestering glare penetrated her eyelids. She flung her arm up to provide shelter with the crook of her elbow, but it was too late. The spell was broken and the night was over.

  For a few moments, Stella lay blissfully unaware, caught in those comforting moments between slumber and full alertness, not focusing on any particular thought. Then, as if a shot rang out, she was fully conscious. Facing her, fast asleep and snoring lightly, was Phoebe. With another controlled movement, she gently craned her neck to peer downward. Entangled in her feet, was the bed sheet, and she was naked from the waist down. The stubble of her Brazilian waxing glistened in yet another sliver of radiant sun. Stella was feeling a little exposed. They had agreed to take it slowly; if Phoebe woke now, it would embarrass them both.

  Slowly and delicately, Stella edged off the bed.

  “Morning.” Phoebe spoke through a yawn as Stella reached the doorway.

  You’re one for great timing, Lancaster.

  Stella turned only her head to meet Phoebe’s sleepy gaze. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  Phoebe remained silent for a moment then whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

  Stella was caught off guard and her stomach lurched. She loved how Phoebe’s words caused such a physiological reaction in her, but she was uncertain how to react. She had been convinced she would know when Phoebe was ready to take things further, but it seemed her head and her heart were failing to communicate. Common sense prevailed. “That’s a lovely thing to say. I appreciate the compliment, Phoebe, thank you.”

  “You making coffee?” Phoebe’s tone wasn’t malicious, but all tenderness had evaporated.

  Stella shrugged. “Sure. After I shower.” She continued toward the bathroom.

  “Why do you do that?” Phoebe had followed her into the living room.

  “Do what?”

  “Ignore me?”

  “I wasn’t ignoring you. Honestly, I appreciate the compliment. It’s just that you seemed to regret saying it afterward. I understand. Well, I think I do. I realise none of this can be easy for you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Phoebe entered her bedroom, the one that lay vacant for most of the night.

  Stella sighed. She was sorry, too. She had wanted to go to Phoebe, wanted Phoebe, but she was frightened of reading the signals wrong. So much had happened in such a short time that she simply felt unable to read the situation clearly. She leaned in the doorway of Phoebe’s room nervously pulling her top down to her mid thigh. “I’m sorry, too. You complimented me, which is lovely, but I guess I really don’t know where we stand beyond that.”

  “Where do you want to stand?”

  “Well, preferably not in your doorway feeling like a lustful, hormone-driven teenager.” The smile this brought to Phoebe’s face was comforting, but the awkward pause that ensued seemed to go on forever.

  “Why don’t you take your top off?” Phoebe finally whispered.

  “Pardon?”

  Phoebe inched closer. “I’ve seen the bottom half of you naked. Please show me the rest.”

  “Is that a good idea?” Stella couldn’t believe what she was saying.

  Phoebe held Stella’s gaze without falter. “I’ve no idea.” She took Stella by the hand. “Let’s find out.”

  Phoebe undressed them both before guiding Stella face first into the barely warm water, firmly pressing her against the white tiled wall.

  Stella flinched when her breasts met the cool tiles. She groaned when Phoebe’s hands slid from behind to cup her breasts, her thumb and forefinger teasing her hardened nipples. Although their height difference appeared magnified in the shower, Stella relaxed, allowing her head to rest between Phoebe’s breasts. This encounter had been Phoebe’s choice, and Stella would enjoy the seduction, patiently awaiting her turn. She desperately wanted to face Phoebe, wrap her legs around her waist, and be taken over and over again, but Phoebe, zealously exploring Stella’s body, remained steady against her as she began kissing the nape of Stella’s neck, sending shivers down her spine.

  “Jesus, you’re beautiful.” Phoebe nipped hard on Stella’s ear.

  Stella was hungry for Phoebe’s mouth. Again, she attempted to turn and face her.

  “Don’t struggle. I promise I won’t hurt you.” Phoebe crossed Stella’s wrists above her head. With one strong hand, she clamped them against the tiles and resumed fondling with her free hand.

  Stella groaned. The seconds it took Phoebe to restrain her hands felt like agony to her abandoned, sensitive nipples.

  “Please, Phoebe, please.” Days of tension bubbled to the surface as Phoebe’s hand began to caress lower. Stella writhed at the sensual touch and held her breath as Phoebe explored, brushing over her clitoris and into the source of her heat. Stella gasped, and her legs became weak. Phoebe’s hand gently rubbing between her legs seemed to be the only thing holding her upright.

  “You’re ready,” Phoebe whispered.

  It was an understatement. Stella had been ready for days, and now she was on the verge of orgasm.

  Abruptly, the stream of water stopped, and Phoebe withdrew her hand from between Stella’s legs.

  “No!” Stella begged, grinding her backside into Phoebe, urging her to continue.

  Phoebe released Stella’s arms and grasped them in the same fashion behind her back. Dripping wet, she guided her to the bedroom.

  At the foot of the bed, Phoebe kissed and gently nibbled Stella’s neck and shoulders. Her voice was husky, and she sounded breathless. “Promise me you’ll do as I say?”

  There was little doubt
Phoebe was in control, but Stella sensed a hint of hesitation, and she felt Phoebe stiffen behind her, her composure possibly wavering.

  Stella moaned in agreement.

  “I need to hear the words.” Phoebe reached around to find Stella’s swollen clitoris. Gently, she rubbed it, causing Stella to sink her full weight back into Phoebe. “Stella, the words?”

  “Jesus, yes,” she whispered. “I promise. Please, Phoebe, I can’t take much more of this.”

  Phoebe released her and cleared her throat. “Lie down. On your stomach.”

  Stomach? Stella briefly glanced at Phoebe, hoping she’d made some kind of mistake, but her gaze never faltered. Obediently, Stella assumed the position. This was nothing like the dream she so vividly cherished.

  After briefly sliding her hands down Stella’s still moist back, Phoebe left the room and called over her shoulder. “Don’t move and don’t speak. I’ll be right back.”

  Stella remained on her stomach but slid her hand down between her legs. This wasn’t some bondage scene that Phoebe had set. There were no rules, but she needed to touch herself, touch something until Phoebe returned. Her clitoris was beyond sensitive. Even the pressure of lying on her hardened nipples shot currents of arousal down to her centre. She dipped her fingers further. Christ. She was so wet.

  “Need a hand with that?”

  Stella snapped her head back to see Phoebe leaning in the doorway, lust and a glint of apprehension in her eyes. “You told me not to speak.”

  “Yes. So I did. You’ll do well to remember it.” Phoebe knelt on the bed. “Take your hand away, please.”

  Stella complied. She remained still and silent.

  “Leave your head down and spread your legs a little.”

  The calm, yet calculated orders were sending Stella into a heightened state of arousal, although now, Phoebe’s air of authority was waning. Stella’s entire body craved Phoebe’s touch. It yearned to be satisfied, and she was willingly at the mercy of Phoebe Lancaster.