She smiled coyly. “I’d love some.”

Hudson caught the bartender’s eye. “A glass of Cristal for the lady.”

“So what brings you to the Orient Express?” she asked, continuing their game.

“Hmm.” He took a sip of scotch from an intricately cut crystal tumbler, the facets catching the light as he lifted it to his lips. “I intended a romantic getaway with the woman I love. But there seems to be a conspiracy in place to prevent that.”

Allie smiled. “Sounds like a very lucky woman. And something tells me she’s enjoying herself immensely. Besides, the night is young. And tomorrow is New Year’s Eve.”

“Indeed it is.”

The bartender set a flute of champagne in front of her on the polished wood bar. Allie took the glass and lifted it in the air. “To new beginnings.”

Hudson clinked his glass against hers. “To new beginnings,” he said, holding her gaze as she sipped the sparkling wine.

“So what are our plans for New Year’s Eve, anyways?”

“I had it in mind to surprise you, but I’m afraid you may be disappointed since you seemed intrigued by the possibility of kissing every damn person in Italy,” he said with a smirk.

Allie smiled over the rim of her glass. “You know I was just yanking your chain a bit.”

Hudson lifted a brow at her unintentional innuendo and Allie blushed from his unspoken reply.

“Tell me, please?”

“No need for the puppy eyes, Alessandra,” Hudson chuckled. “As if I could deny you anything.”

“I do not have puppy eyes.”

“Oh yes, you do.” He shook his head. “And God help me, it works very time.”

She took another sip of champagne. It was crisp and light, and the bubbles made her feel warm all over. “Well?”

“I’ve arranged for us to spend the night aboard a private yacht on the River Thames. We’ll watch the fireworks over London Bridge, then head below deck for the remainder of the evening.”

“A boat? I’m sensing a theme here. Planes, trains, and automobiles?”

“I believe we’ve already covered planes and automobiles . . .”

“So that just leaves trains,” she said, finishing his thought. The promise held in the look that passed between the two of them sent goose bumps racing across her skin.

“Mr. Chase, your table is ready,” the maître d’ said. They followed him to the Côte d’Azur Room, a luxurious dining car decorated with opaque glass panels designed by René Lalique. Either one of them could have suggested they cut the dinner short, or even skip it altogether. But the anticipation of the night to come combined with the knowledge that they not only had all night, but a lifetime of nights to come, was an intoxicating mix. So by silent agreement they remained at the table, savoring each other while enjoying a four-course meal of decadent food, fine wine, and lingering glances. Hudson’s every move, from the way he stroked the stem of his glass to the way he licked the wine from his lips, pulled Allie deeper under his spell. By the time dessert was served, the desire charging the air between them felt like a tangible force, enveloping them in a world where nothing else existed but the two of them, their longing, their need.

“Ready to go?” Hudson finally asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, barely able to speak in her overheated state.

Hudson stood and offered her his hand. He watched her intently, his eyes darkening as she placed her hand in his and rose from her seat. “That’s a lovely dress,” he said. “I believe I was remiss in mentioning that earlier.” His gaze raked over her, and she knew he was thinking about what she looked like beneath that dress, her nipples pebbled and taut, her sex slick and ready.

“Thank you.” She stepped closer, her body shielding her hand as it slipped between them. Hudson went from semi-hard to granite in a matter of seconds.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Find something you like?” he asked. His voice was husky and low.

Allie leaned in so her lips brushed against his ear. “Something I’d like to have inside me,” she breathed. Her fingers curled around his length, and when he twitched against her palm, she couldn’t help but smile. She loved the effect she had on him, that he was as helpless to control his reaction to her as she was to him.

A low groan rumbled deep within his chest. “Let’s go,” he growled.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he guided her through the train’s corridors until they reached the door to their cabin. Allie pressed herself against his back as he fumbled with the key, her hand reaching around to stroke him through his tuxedo pants. “Trouble with the lock?” she asked, not even bothering to stifle the giggle that bubbled up inside her.

Hudson gave a small laugh. “Perhaps if I wasn’t so distracted.” The sound of a lock unlatching was followed immediately by the creak of hinges as the door finally swung open. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he practically shouted.

Allie peered over Hudson’s shoulder. A promised, Andrew had indeed transformed the cabin into a cozy bedroom. The lamp on the small table had been left on, the fringed shade casting the room in a soft orange glow, and classical music was coming from what appeared to be an antique radio. Small chocolates had been left atop plumped feather pillows, and the luxurious linens had been turned down to entice the guests into bed. Only problem was, the accommodations consisted of two Pullman-style beds, one atop the other.

She followed him into the room and closed the door behind her.

“It’s fine,” she offered, attempting to head off the volcano that was no doubt about to erupt. “Authenticates the experience.”

Hudson met her reassuring smile with bewildered eyes. “It’s not fine, Allie. It’s anything but fine.” He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “This was supposed to be a romantic train ride through Europe and I’ve hardly had two minutes alone with you. Tea and tours and goddamn seating charts. And look at this place.” He flung his arms out wide. “It’s bad enough I have to go to the next car to take a piss, but fucking bunk beds?”

He yanked his bow tie loose as he made his way into the adjoining room, bumping into the luggage stand on his way to the makeshift sink and cursing under his breath.

“Who says we need a bed,” she murmured.

The seductive, breathy tone of her voice stopped Hudson in his tracks. He turned and his eyes followed her hands as she slowly lowered the zipper on the side of her dress. She peeled the fabric off her shoulder and down her arm so that it slipped from her body and pooled at her feet in a cloud of ivory silk. Beneath the gown she wore an ivory brocade corset and matching lace thong.

Hudson’s lips parted on a sharp intake of air as she stepped out of the dress. His hungry gaze traveled over every inch of her body, but he said nothing. He just watched her, his eyes dark with desire. Being like this for him, trussed up in ribbon and lace and sky-high heels while he stood there fully clothed, made her feel sexy and wanton and utterly his. Just thinking about how it would feel when he finally took her had her pressing her thighs together in an effort to relieve the pulsing ache between her legs.

“I take it you approve?” she whispered, though she already knew the answer. He was hard, his arousal a visible ridge against his fly.

His fiery gaze met hers and he nodded slowly. “Don’t stop.”

Allie’s heart pounded as she untied the ribbon that crisscrossed over the front of the corset. With a smooth tug the ribbon slid through the loops one at time until the fabric finally fell away. Hudson’s eyes flared at the sight of her hardened nipples and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

The vibrations of the train hummed through her entire body, taking her need for him to an almost unbearable level. She wanted him so badly she trembled. Even though he stood on the other side of the cabin, she could feel the attraction that pulsed between them, same as it had been since the very first time she saw him on the beach all those years ago, a magnetic pull drawing her to him. But she fought the urge to reach for him, choosing instead to let the moment build as she waited for him to make his move.