Eyes Wide Open (21 page)

“Sounds wonderful.”

Scooting up to the partition, James pressed the button to lower the screen and speak to the driver. She couldn’t hear what was they were saying, but soon, the partition was back in place and both men were looking at her expectantly. It was then she realized that Logan was patting the space they’d left between them on the seat. They wanted her to sit with them. Either that or it was because she’d get a better view of the aforementioned sights from there. Who cared? Sitting between two gorgeous blokes in a limousine, supping on expensive champagne wasn’t exactly a hardship, though the latter did seem to be going to her head rather quickly.

Moving over to take the place they’d created for her, she smiled at both of them in turn before settling back into the seat and waiting for the show to begin. She wasn’t entirely sure where they were at that moment, just in a maze of nondescript back streets and one-way systems. As they made their way through the dim city roads, she finished off her drink and accepted a top-up from Logan. The three of them sat in a companionable silence, and Fiona suspected that they, too, appreciated the opportunity to wind down after an intense evening at the club.

Before long, a familiar sight came into view.
Ah, Oxford Street.
Since she’d been making more of an effort to explore London during her spare time, she was getting a real handle on the city’s layout and improving her sense of direction. Now she knew where they were, she was sure she’d be able to figure out where they were going, and probably even what they’d see on the way.

Or she could just sit back, relax and enjoy herself. That was the whole point, surely?

Yes… Enjoy herself. She could do that. Letting out a happy sigh, she watched the designer and large high street retailers whizz by in a blur, to be replaced by Marble Arch, then impressive buildings and even more impressive hotels. Though, she thought with a sense of pride, not as impressive as the Totally Five Star. She’d definitely lucked out there.

Hyde Park Corner and Apsley House soon appeared, and a left turn along Constitution Hill provided a view of the side walls of Buckingham Palace, mostly screened by trees, until the space opened out and they could see the building itself. They continued to get a good look at the royal residence as they looped around the memorial to Queen Victoria and headed back up Buckingham Palace Road.

What followed was a tourist’s dream journey—like being on one of the tour buses, but much more comfortable, and with champagne. The Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, then across the river to the London Eye and the South Bank. Tower Bridge and the Tower of London with their strategically placed lighting were particularly awe-inspiring, drawing gasps and murmurs of appreciation from all three of them. Back across the river, still with excellent views of the Tower, then a column that was a monument to the Great Fire of London in 1666, followed by St. Paul’s Cathedral. Eventually they glided past Trafalgar Square, up toward St. James’s Palace—which Fiona felt was massively underrated due to its more famous neighbor—and back into Mayfair.

As the exclusive shops gave way to stately buildings and the hotel grew ever closer, Fiona realized she’d downed the second glass of bubbles without even being aware of it.
Oops. Oh well, no harm done.

Only when they pulled up to the side door of the hotel and Fiona attempted to get out of the vehicle did she come to the conclusion that, actually, that wasn’t the case. Almost as soon as she’d gotten off the seat and reached for her bag, the world began tilting uncomfortably, then spinning.
Shit!

She was vaguely aware of being gently pulled back into the car and settled onto the rear seat, then of whispered, hasty conversation.

“What the hell—?”

“Get her back to her room—”

“If someone sees her with us—”

“Make sure she’s okay—”

“Not eaten properly—”

“What if she’s sick?”

Fiona opened her mouth at that last, planning to let them know that she wasn’t going to be sick. She wasn’t that bad. Just a bit tipsy, that was all. And tired. So incredibly tired all of a sudden…

God, if she didn’t trust the two of them implicitly, she’d wonder if she’d been drugged. But then one of their snatched comments came back to her whirling brain. She
hadn’t
eaten properly. She’d been later finishing work than planned, and to ensure that she was ready on time, she’d had to rush back to her room straight away and jump into the shower. The only thing she’d eaten since lunchtime was a bag of crisps she’d found in her cupboard, which she’d munched on before putting the finishing touches to her makeup, packing her bag and heading out to meet James and Logan.

That’d be it, then. Not only had she drunk on a practically empty stomach, she’d drunk what was probably some of the finest champagne available. And now she was going to be carted back to her room and miss out on what would no doubt be some totally mind-blowing sex with James and Logan.

As she barely hung on to consciousness, she was aware of the vehicle moving again. “Whatareyoudoing?”

“Shh,” a voice said from close by, and a hand stroked her hair. “You’ll be all right, sweetheart. We’re going to look after you.” She thought it was probably James, though she couldn’t be sure. “I’m going to take your hair out of the pigtails, honey, so when we carry you in it’ll help cover your face. We don’t want your colleagues seeing you, do we? Especially not in this state. All right?”

“’Spose.”

Gentle hands carefully pulled at the ties securing her hair, then raked through the strands. It felt nice, so relaxing that she teetered on the brink of unconsciousness once more.

“Hey,” James said softly, patting her cheek. “Stay with us, Fiona. Let us just get you up to our room and get some food and water into your system, and probably some painkillers, then you can sleep all you want, okay?”

“’Kay.”

The car drew to a stop once more, and she grumbled as she was helped out of the vehicle, then quickly lifted into strong arms. Her head was tucked into a broad chest, and strands of hair tickled her skin. Somehow, she held on to just enough common sense to resist the temptation to brush her hair away from her face. What had James said? Yeah, that was it—didn’t want her colleagues seeing her, especially not in this state.

A giggle escaped, surprising her. The surprise set off more giggles, and she tittered away, her face still pushed into the chest of either James or Logan—she had no idea which—as she was carried up the steps of the hotel and into the lobby.

Through the sudden buzzing in her ears, she heard a wry voice. Logan. “She’s all right. Just had too much to drink, that’s all. My sister.” The arms squeezed her, as though in warning not to open her mouth and expose his blatant lie. “We’re going to get her upstairs and get some food and water in her. That’ll teach her to drink on an empty stomach.”

Hey! How did he…?

“Fuckingknoweverythingsmartarse,” she grumbled. Who the hell had he been talking to, anyway? One of the door staff, probably.

Chuckling, Logan continued his journey, and she sensed the movement of the elevator as they were carried up to James and Logan’s floor, then, after what felt like the longest ever walk down a corridor, came the unmistakable swish and click of the key card in the lock.

Finally, a muttered “Thank fuck for that,” followed by the
whomp
of the closing door and, a few steps later, she was lowered onto a bed.

Ahh… Now I can sleep.
Fiona let her eyelids flutter down, sealing off the outside world.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Ah-ah, no you don’t!”

Through the thick fog of her mind, Fiona felt herself being gently pulled upright, and pillows were piled up behind her back.

“Fiona?” James said. “Are you still with us, sweetheart? Can you try to stay awake, just a little bit longer?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I’m sure you don’t, but we’d really like you to. We want to get you into some more comfortable clothes, get some painkillers into you, plenty of water and some food.”

“Wanna sleep.”

“You can sleep, just as soon as we’ve done all that.”

“Humph.” She folded her arms, her eyelids fluttering again.

“James,” Logan said, striding over. “I think we should just get on with it. You can see how desperately she wants to fall asleep. I just placed an order with room service for some nice unhealthy food, which should arrive soon. So, in the meantime, let’s get her into some pajamas and a dressing gown. Maybe a black coffee to keep her awake long enough to eat, then plenty of water.”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll go and make the coffee, first. You want one?”

“No thanks. I’ll keep an eye on her while you’re doing that.”

“Okay.” James left the bedroom, and Fiona, still bleary-eyed, watched him go. Then, with some difficulty, she shifted her focus back onto Logan.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out, her tongue feeling thick and furry in her mouth. “You should’ve just taken me back to my room.”

Logan shook his head. “Nope. Not happening. You scared the crap out of us. One minute you were ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the sights along with us, and the next minute you could hardly stand. You’re staying right here where we can keep an eye on you, to make sure you’re not sick or anything.
No
arguments.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

Apparently satisfied, Logan turned to the chest of drawers and pulled out a set of pajamas. Fiona raised her eyebrows. She’d never seen either Logan or James in nightwear before. They usually wandered around naked or pulled on a pair of boxers or a robe if they were going to answer the door.

Hmm, seems even über-sexy businessmen wear comfy jammies.

Closing the drawer, Logan carried the items over to the bed and placed them down beside her. “You want me to help you?”

“I’m all right, thanks,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if it was true or not. She hadn’t tried to stand since attempting to get out of the limo, so she had no idea whether she’d be able to now. Figuring she didn’t have to discover that just yet, she tucked her knees up to her chest and removed her shoes and socks, smiling gratefully as Logan whisked them away and placed them on a chair.

Then she removed her checked shirt, fumbling with the buttons as the alcohol continued to affect her coordination. Biting her bottom lip in the hope that it would sharpen her up a bit and stop Logan having to step in and help, she finally got the top off. Now it remained to be seen whether she could get her jeans and knickers off without hitting the deck.

“Come on,” Logan said kindly, holding out his hand. “Let me help you. There’s no need to be proud.”

“Think I’m a bit beyond that, don’t you? I’ve made an utter fool of myself tonight.”

“You’ve done no such thing. You just made a mistake, that’s all. We all do. We’re only human. Now stop bringing yourself down and do as you’re told. I can still boss you around, even though I’m not going to spank that luscious arse of yours.”

“Y-you’re not?” Confusion wavered its way to the forefront of her mind.

Logan’s expression turned incredulous. “No, I’m bloody well not. You’ve had too much to drink, sweetheart, and we’re going to look after you. So that means there’ll be no kinky business and no sex tonight. You know how I feel about sober playmates.”

She did. He was always very careful to pay attention to how much alcohol she and James consumed, and he rarely had more than one, himself. Sometimes it bugged her, but she reminded herself that he wasn’t being overbearing, or a control freak. He was looking out for them, just like he was looking out for her now. She should be grateful he was so considerate and caring.

Taking his hand, she shuffled to the edge of the bed, letting her feet dangle off the mattress. She was just sliding toward the carpet, hoping her legs held her up once she got there, when James reappeared with her coffee. He placed it down on the bedside table, then grabbed the pajama bottoms from the bed, unfolding them and holding them up, ready.

She cringed as her feet found the soft fibers of the carpet and she locked her knees. Logan never released his hold on her. She wove slightly, causing Logan to grab her around the waist, but her legs held.

“You all right?” Logan said, looking her in the eyes.

“Yeah, I think so.”
The world’s still a bit fuzzy, mind.

“Okay. Hold onto my shoulders if you need to.”

Just to be sure, she took him up on his offer, gripping his muscular shoulders as he knelt down and made short work of undoing her belt and flies, then pulling her jeans down. He helped her to step out of each leg in turn, then did the same with her knickers. Once her mound was bared, she couldn’t help the embarrassment that still flooded her body, despite her drunkenness. She’d gotten used to being naked and in various states of undress in front of the two of them, but this was different. They were getting nothing out of this—or they wouldn’t be, anyway. They might like what they were seeing, but Logan had said sex was off the agenda.

They still had each other, though. Perhaps as soon as they’d fed and watered her and she’d gone to sleep, they’d head into the other bedroom and fuck each other’s brains out? She was so desperate to sleep that she doubted she’d hear them, not even if they were super-noisy and they left the internal doors open.

Disappointment lanced through her, but she forced a smile onto her face as Logan collected her now-discarded jeans and underwear and moved to put them on the chair, too.

James appeared in front of her, brandishing the pajama bottoms. “Let me help you put these on, sweetheart.”

Nodding, she now held onto his shoulders as he knelt in front of her, lifting each of her feet in turn to put them in the pants, then pulled them up. They were much too big, so James used the ties at the waist to cinch them tightly, then rolled up the legs a little so she didn’t trip over them.

“Okay.” He patted her outer thighs in a fond, platonic fashion, making her heart sink further. “Sit down and we’ll get this T-shirt on you, too. Do you want a robe, or are you going to get under the covers?”