Free Consumed by Fire by Anne Stuart

her stiff parents reacting to her impulsive behavior, her sister taking one look at James and erupting in jealousy. It was a game, a dream, one she was afraid would end sooner or later, but in the meantime she had every intention of living the dream in their luxurious suite at the Hotel Danieli.
    She’d told him how ridiculous it was—they had three rooms and they never left the bed, even for room service—but he’d insisted, and her protests had turned to a silly distraction, and they were laughing and making love again, doing things she’d never considered doing.
    This was the first time she’d woken in the huge bed and he hadn’t been with her. She yawned, glancing at her wedding ring. At least there he’d been sensible—it was pink glass from Murano, narrow and pretty. He assured her he’d replace it with something more substantial when they got back to the States, but she was never going to let this one go. For one thing, she’d have a hard time doing it—once on, it had stuck. But it symbolized the strange, abrupt, fragile beginning for them, and she would always cherish it.
    “James?” she called sleepily. There was no answer, but Evangeline didn’t move. He must be in the bathroom that was larger than many New York City apartments. She had no idea what time it was, she wasn’t even sure what day it was. They had all blended together.
    In fact, she was feeling a little achy and sticky. A nice long shower would be lovely, unless James was taking advantage of the marble bath that was big enough to hold four people. They’d used it once already, and she wouldn’t mind trying it again, except that she was hurting. Her body wasn’t used to all this activity.
    She climbed out of bed and peered into the bathroom. He wasn’t there, but there was another, equally elegant bathroom on the other side of the living room, and he might have gone there so he wouldn’t disturb her. She walked across the magnificent parquet floor to the other side, unconscious of her nudity, but that bathroom was empty as well. He wasn’t anywhere in the suite.
    She ignored the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. He probably knew she needed a break, and he’d gone out so he wouldn’t distract her. Besides, he’d ignored his cell phone, ignored messages that had been slid under the massive double doors to the suite. He must have decided now was a good time to catch up on things while she slept.
    Suddenly she felt cold, exposed, standing in the middle of the massive living room of the luxury suite wearing nothing but skin. It was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud, which was ridiculous. She had only to look out the high leaded-glass windows to see it shining down on the water. It was only her imagination.
    She took the fastest shower she’d taken in three days, the first one she’d taken alone, ignoring memories of what they’d done in the marble-sided shower stall, and dressed quickly. Her jeans and loose T-shirt weren’t proper attire for a place like the Danieli, and James had promised to take her shopping for some decent clothes, but of course she’d refused. Even if they’d really been married she wouldn’t have let him pay for her. It would have stretched her budget beyond bearing, but she could buy her own dress. Provided she found one on sale.
    But they’d never gotten that far. Never gotten out of the bedroom, and she felt her skin heat as more memories flitted through her mind. His mouth everywhere, tasting, sucking, biting. They’d been with each other every second since he’d first walked into the shower at the Villa Ragarra, and this was the first time she had a chance to think. Had she lost her mind, going off with a perfect stranger?
    No, he was hardly a stranger. She’d known that the moment she saw him, up at that mountain church. She’d looked into his deep brown eyes and known . . . something. He’d felt the same. He’d whispered about love at first sight, a ridiculous concept, but she