Wedding Party Collection: Don't Tell The Bride. Kelly Hunter

you going while I’m on level two?’

      ‘Level four.’ She smiled angelically. ‘Lingerie and nightwear.’

      * * *

      Trig peeled off onto the second floor of the department store with fear in his heart and lust in his soul. When Lena wanted something she had a frightening habit of getting it. Lena was buying lingerie and he’d been sent off to buy her a dress. If Trig wasn’t mistaken, she was gearing up for the full wedding night experience.

      With him.

      A shop assistant hovered; one with Bambi eyes and more curves than a roller coaster. She looked him up and down, her eyes approving until she saw the wedding ring on his finger and then they turned assessing. ‘May I assist you?’ she said.

      ‘I need a gown for my wife. She wants to go dancing.’

      Twenty-five minutes later, he and Lena met at the entrance doors to the store. Yasar and his taxi stood waiting, two take-away coffee cups in hand. Lena had a wide and wicked smile on her face and carried three shopping bags.

      Trig had one bag and a headache.

      * * *

      ‘Yasar, did you know that this is our honeymoon?’ said Lena when she got back into the taxi and accepted the hot tea and kebab that the driver handed her.

      ‘But, no.’

      ‘Yes, and I don’t know anything about Bodrum but I do know that I want to stay somewhere magical and luxurious tonight. Somewhere with billowing gauze curtains and velvet pillows. A truly grand establishment where bite-sized delicacies are delivered to the room on a silver platter. It could even be a bridal suite in a fancy hotel.’

      Trig stifled a groan. This was going nowhere good.

      ‘Lady wife of Gentleman Sinclair, I do know of such a place in Bodrum. It is quite famous.’

      ‘I have a credit card,’ said Lena.

      ‘Payment at this most exquisite abode may only be made by credit card,’ said Yasar. ‘Indeed, it is not for the financially challenged. I myself have never been there.’ Yasar met Trig’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. ‘There are other options.’

      Trig was all for exploring other options.

      ‘What’s it called?’ Lena asked.

      ‘Saul’s Caravan. Though it is not a caravan, you understand. It is an old stone residence overlooking the city. It is thought to have once housed a King’s concubine.’

      ‘Do we have anywhere booked?’ Lena turned to him, her eyes imploring.

      ‘No. But...’

      ‘But what?’

      ‘I think I have a headache. I could be coming down with something. I’m probably not going to be of much use to you tonight, romance-wise, that’s all. We could save ourselves for another time.’

      Lena eyed him thoughtfully before turning her attention to Yasar. ‘Yasar, what do you have for headaches?’

      ‘There is a drink,’ began Yasar, above the wailing of the radio.

      Of course there was.

      * * *

      Lena went ahead and organised a two-night stay at Saul’s Caravan. The hotel accommodation to date had been fine but nothing special, and her encounter with the pickpockets and subsequent visits to the doctor had left her feeling as if they needed some place special in order to get this honeymoon back on track.

      A driver from Saul’s Caravan collected them from the airport, his immaculate dark grey suit and the brand-new Mercedes he led them to an indication of what they might expect. The hotel stood high on a cliff face, grim, grey and surrounded by high stone walls half smothered in jasmine.

      ‘Look.’ Lena leaned across Trig to get a better look as they passed the entry gates. ‘It has a turret. I’ve always wanted a turret.’

      ‘I’ve always wanted a puppy,’ said Trig, but he smiled as they came to a stop at the hotel entrance.

      The carved double entrance doors could have graced the Versailles palace. The mosaic tiles that covered the ground looked as if they belonged in a museum. A staggeringly beautiful woman greeted them and introduced herself as Aylin, the proprietor of Saul’s Caravan. She didn’t bother with check-in, but led them to their suite and showed them inside.

      It felt a lot like stepping into Aladdin’s cave. Silver candlesticks and burnished pewter ware glowed atop burnished wooden dressers and sideboards. Gauze drapes hung from the roof above the huge four-poster bed and there was enough exquisite linen draping the bed itself to open a linen store. Old tapestries hung on the walls, half a dozen Persian carpets scattered the floor.

      Because why have just one?

      The suite had a tiny courtyard garden and sweeping views of Bodrum and the Aegean.

      There was an outdoor eating area and a small indoor sunken pool, half hidden behind a carved wooden partition. A life-sized marble lion stretched out next to the partition. He appeared to be protecting a sleeping cherub. A life-sized painted plaster Virgin Mary graced one corner of the room, a jade Buddha sat in the opposite corner, and a trompe l’oeil of what Lena suspected was a Muslim prayer covered an entire wall. The room also contained a harp, a pianola, fairy lights and a gong.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ murmured Lena.

      ‘Are we still on the planet?’ Trig clearly doubted it.

      Lena headed for the en suite—which was not to be confused with the other bathing pool. ‘Hey, Trig. There’s a surfboard-shaped mirror right here in the dressing room, next to the Tinkerbell lamp. Do you feel at home yet? Tell me you do, because there are costumes here too—that or someone’s left their clothes behind.’ She reappeared. ‘I love this place.’

      ‘I think it’s mental.’

      ‘Yeah, but I’m not in my right mind now either and you won’t be once I’m through with you. This place works on so many levels.’

      Aylin smiled softly. ‘This room is strategically lit of an evening,’ she offered. ‘There are lights, for example, beneath the bed.’

      ‘Electrocution as well.’ Trig nodded sagely. ‘Tell me that doesn’t cost extra.’

      ‘It doesn’t cost extra,’ said Aylin.

      Lena liked this woman already. ‘See? What’s not to love?’

      Lena was on for the ride, the adventure, the unexpected.

      ‘One night,’ Trig said.

      ‘I booked us in for two.’

      ‘There’s half a winged cherub sticking out of the ceiling.’

      Lena looked up. Indeed there was. And it wasn’t his upper half. She chewed on her lip and stifled another smile. ‘Definitely two.’

      Trig rolled his eyes, but Lena knew she had him.

      ‘Two nights,’ she told Aylin sweetly and the woman nodded and stepped aside so that their driver could enter with their bags. A young woman followed in his wake, carrying a silver tray bearing refreshments. Another woman entered with a tray of fresh fruit.

      ‘You feeling indulged enough yet, princess?’ Trig wanted to know.

      ‘Is the bed big enough for you?’ she shot back. Because it was the biggest bed she’d ever seen. Antique. Custom made. Ever so slightly daunting. But Trig would fit on it and so would she.

      ‘We’re on our honeymoon,’ Lena murmured and Aylin looked first at Lena and then at Trig in clear assessment of what he might bring to the honeymoon party. And smiled.

      * * *

      If there was ever a place for a scarred and insecure woman to seduce a man, this was it, decided