by Julie Leto
He dropped onto his knees so that his face was inches from her breasts. Her nipples squeezed tight, but her sturdy bra and the towel kept the evidence of her arousal hidden.
“Only when used to emphasize how wrong you are,” he countered.
“I’m too old for you,” she insisted.
His smile curved at the corners of his mouth in the most contradictory and charming way. “All boys fantasize about older women. I’m just lucky enough to finally have a shot at you.”
“You do not have a shot.”
His light brown gaze dipped down her front. She gasped at the pink flush darkening her skin. After fumbling with the seat belt, she tore out of her chair.
He did not follow her, but remained in the doorway between the cockpit and the cabin, his arms braced on the threshold, making him look even more delectable with the sun kissing his long hair from behind and outlining his muscular arms.
“I could have a shot,” he argued, “if you’d let go a little. Age is just a number.”
She slid into one of the plush leather seats usually reserved for executives or VIPs, not single moms out for a wild weekend on behalf of their little brother’s bride-to-be.
But she could be so much more. Only a few short years ago, she’d been a sought-after photojournalist dashing around the world, exploring new places, cultures and attitudes. And every so often, new men. When had all that changed so drastically?
“It’s not just about our age difference,” Annie said.
He ventured a few steps into the cabin. “Okay, then lay out your objections and I’ll address them each individually.”
She smirked. “You sound so businesslike.”
“Well, I am the CEO of a successful company. I didn’t get this way on my looks alone.”
“This from the guy whose business is called Hunks with a Truck?”
“I didn’t say looks didn’t help,” he confessed, his tone both mischievous and serious. “But it takes more than muscle and a dearth of shirts to make a business work.”
“Trust me, the dearth of shirts doesn’t hurt,” she muttered, remembering just how irresistible Drew had looked last year when he was parading through her house with nothing covering his pecs but sweat and a tan.
“Well, then, that’s a start.”
And with that, he removed his shirt.
She wanted to object. Honest to God, she wanted to gasp in horror and order him to get dressed that very minute, young man.
Trouble was, the feelings Drew evoked in her came from the opposite direction of her motherly instincts. Or sisterly ones. Or cool aunt ones.
The most basic, intrinsic woman she’d kept hidden for so long sighed with a deep appreciation for the beauty of his impressive male form. She gulped, then leaned back in her chair, threw back her head and closed her eyes. Yes, she found him attractive. What woman wouldn’t? Even her eighty-year-old grandmother would get a little thrill seeing this man shirtless.
Apparently, Drew took her posture as surrender. He slid into the seat across from hers, leaned forward so that his elbows balanced over his thighs and took her hands in his.
“Tell me you’re not attracted to me,” he ordered.
“I’m not attracted to you,” she said automatically. “Liar.”
“True.”
“Tell me you think of me as a kid.”
She shook her head. She’d just proved she couldn’t tell a lie that big.
“Then what’s holding you back from taking what you want? How long has it been, Annie, since you’ve had time for yourself? How long has it been since you let a man desire you—every inch of you?”
“You’ve lost your mind,” she concluded. There could be no other explanation. Drew could have any woman in the universe. Why on earth would he want a woman with an extra ten pounds on her hips and who smelled of sweaty baseball mitts most of the time?
“Insanity doesn’t change the fact that I want to kiss you so badly, I can’t see straight.”
She opened her eyes, leaned forward and examined his face carefully. She couldn’t see anything but sincerity and—if his liquid irises were any indicator—true desire.
“Drew, you’re so much—”
“Don’t tell me how young I am,” he said, and she could tell his patience was wearing thin. “I’ve been around for every one of my birthdays. Got presents, too. I’m twenty-six. You’re thirty-eight. That’s twelve years. More than a decade. And yet, I don’t care.”
“Maybe I wasn’t going to say anything else about your age,” she argued.
He challenged her with a tilted eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe I was,” she confessed. “But you must have a million beautiful young girls throwing themselves at you. How could you possibly want someone who has given birth twice and has the stretch marks to prove it?”
He dropped to his knees, assuming the same posture he had in the cockpit, only here in the spacious cabin, the action seemed more gallant and romantic. Until he pressed closer and she felt the hardness and length of him against her leg.
Her eyes widened.
“If you need more convincing of what you do to me, I could always…” He seized the button at his waistband, but she stopped him by grabbing his wrists.
Another mistake. The electric surge that resulted from her hands touching his in such close proximity to his groin nearly caused her to groan out loud. She did want him, but what woman wouldn’t? Didn’t explain why he wanted her.
But did she really have to understand? Or could she just, for the first time in a very long while, go with the flow?
With a stranger, she might have been able to throw caution to the wind. She hadn’t exactly been a virgin when she’d fallen for her ex. She’d had a few flings. She liked sex. A lot. And she missed it desperately. But this was Drew—her future sister-in-law’s brother. Someone she was going to have to face every Christmas for the rest of her life.
“Drew, please don’t do this,” she begged.
“What? Act on the attraction we’ve both felt for years?”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Half of it is. I’ve wanted to be with you since before it was legal.”
She leaned back in the chair and this time, the shock was longer lasting. Memories flooded back at her—of meeting Drew for the first time at Coop and Bianca’s college graduation, when he’d been nothing more than a sixteen-year-old stud with incredible eyes, copious amounts of charm and a flirtatious nature she’d attributed to overactive hormones. The second time, he’d been older. A college coed, barely in his twenties. They’d been at a family picnic. Fourth of July. Her husband hadn’t been with her. But Drew had spent nearly the entire day with Andy, barely two, playing trucks in the sandbox and then lighting sparklers until the child had been so hopped up and excited, Annie had barely been able to get him to sleep.
God. That meant Will had just been born. If Drew had flirted with her that weekend, she surely had not noticed, being too busy with a fussy newborn and an absentee husband.
The next time she’d crossed paths with him, however, was during spring break a few years later. She’d taken the boys to visit her parents, who were on the verge of moving into a smaller house on the water. Drew had been there when she’d arrived, working out the details of the move, which his company was handling. He’d stayed for dinner. He’d sat next to her. They’d talked nonstop, though about what, she hadn’t a clue. They simply got along well. They always had.
But never once had he come on to her. Yeah, he’d flirted, but in that charming way young men did with everyone of the female persuasion. She’d never imagined that his attention meant anything more. Until now.
She shivered, a delayed reaction to the sensation of his lips on her neck. She didn’t need to feel his erection against her knee to know he wanted her—he made his intentions evident with his eyes, which were locked on hers with such intensity she couldn’t look away.
His stare was hungry. Undeniable. He seemed aware
of her every breath. For the first time in forever, she felt entirely female. Not like a mom or a wife or a divorcée—like a woman.
An attractive woman.
No, more than that. Drew made her feel hot—in every sense of the word.
“Before you were legal?”
His grin was shameless. “Oh, yeah.”
A soft beeping from the cockpit arrested his attention. He lifted her hands to his face, dropped a gentle kiss on her knuckles, then returned to his post. He shrugged back into his shirt as he double-checked the instruments and heading. His confession knocked the wind out of her, but in a good way—a very good way.
Her family would be scandalized—but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d caused them to have apoplectic fits. From running off to be a photojournalist to marrying a laced-up corporate raider and divorcing him when she got sick of being ignored, Annie was notorious for doing things her own way. The only person this rebellious streak continued to shock was herself.
She glanced out of the circular window and couldn’t imagine a more perfect day for flying. The sky was turquoise, the clouds rare and wispy and the ride smooth as glass. She’d checked the weather before they’d left Florida. This was supposed to be an easy flight.
Funny how it had turned into anything but.
He returned to the cabin. He brought the cinnamon rolls.
How could she possibly resist him?
4
DREW WATCHED ANNIE fiddle with the pastry, tearing off tiny pieces and smearing the tips of her fingers with spice and sugary icing. His mouth watered to take her sweetened skin into his mouth, but he satiated his hunger by grabbing one of the rolls and eating it whole. His ravenous action made her laugh, and her smile tipped his sugar rush into sheer nirvana.
“You’re a great guy, Drew,” she started.
“Ouch,” he said, grabbing a second bun and suddenly wishing he had an ice-cold glass of milk to wash the deliciousness down. Not that milk would add to his image as an older-than-she-thinks guy. “At least you didn’t call me nice.”
She swallowed another chunk of cinnamon roll. “I happen to like nice guys.”
“So your husband was a nice guy?”
She frowned, but Drew didn’t need her unguarded reaction to know the truth. Her husband was an idiot. What guy landed a beautiful, exciting, intelligent woman like Annie, had two adorable kids and then ignored them for balance sheets and stock options?
Moron.
“I think it was his ambition that attracted me,” she admitted. “I was shooting his picture for a magazine article on up-and-coming entrepreneurs. Confidence can be very seductive.”
Drew grinned. If there was one thing he had in spades, it was the knowledge that his weaknesses were preferable to a lot of guys’ strengths. He didn’t deny his arrogance—he simply tried to keep it in check by remembering that karma was a bitch.
“So when did he change?”
“That’s just it. He didn’t change,” she said. “He was the same supercharged executive from the moment we exchanged I-do’s until the day he missed Will’s first birthday party in order to entertain an out-of-town client. I went into the water with the corporate shark, but I just never expected to become his chum.”
“You’re not blaming yourself, are you?” he asked.
“Blame? I stopped assigning any of that a long time ago. It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. What’s done is done. We both went into the relationship with unrealistic expectations.”
“Like?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she sang, her lashes tipping upward as if the answer to his question was somewhere on the ceiling. “He expected me to give up everything I ever cared about in order to clean his house and raise his children, and I expected him to cancel his trip to Chicago when I had pneumonia and two children under the age of six with the flu.”
She chuckled humorlessly, but Drew appreciated how hard it would be to laugh about such neglect, even if she had taken control of her life by leaving the mook behind. Just the fact that she could talk about one of the most painful experiences in her life gave him hope. Maybe she was also ready to put those memories behind her. Start over.
Hopefully, with him.
He retrieved his coffee, refreshed her drink and helped her polish off the pastries. He checked the instruments again; they were on course and making good time. The nearest tower reported very little traffic in his field of flight, but he knew he should return to the cockpit. He lured her to follow by asking a question that couldn’t be answered from a distance.
“So,” he started, strapping himself back into the pilot’s chair, “if you and I had a relationship, what would the expectations be?”
“That’s easy,” she replied. “You and I would never have a relationship.”
“Well, I suppose I could settle for a brief affair,” he said, lying through his teeth.
She shook her head, but her eyes were alight with what he hoped were sparkles of possibility. He let his hand drift over to her lap, entwining his fingers in hers.
He leaned sideways and drew her knuckles across his cheek, inhaling the mingled scents of cinnamon and the exotic perfume she must have dabbed on her wrist.
“You sure know how to tempt a woman,” she confessed.
“If that were true, you’d be kissing me on the mouth right now,” he said, finally giving in to his instincts and nibbling on the tips of her fingers.
When he licked at the sugar coating her skin, she gasped, but did not pull away. He took her inaction as invitation and took one fingertip into his mouth, suckling softly until the cinnamon frosting was gone and his passion for Annie had ratcheted up to new and dangerous levels. He kissed each finger clean and moved up to her wrist. The translucent skin pulsed with her rapid heartbeat. The scent of oriental flowers and spices teased his nostrils. He looked up at her face, her eyes closed in sweet surrender, when an alarm demanded his attention.
He dropped her hand instantly and though he heard her yelp in surprise behind him, he concentrated on flying. He flipped on his headphones and spent a split second clearing his head. The warning required he check in with the nearest tower, which he did as quickly and efficiently as his addled brain could manage.
“Is everything okay?” Her voice quivered, whether from fear spawned by the alarm or from what they’d just shared, he wasn’t sure.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Maybe I should just concentrate on getting us to New York in one piece for a while.”
“That’s probably a very good idea.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m done with you, sweetheart.”
A corner of her mouth twitched, but she effectively tamped down the smile. “That’s very good to know.”
OVER THE PAST EIGHT YEARS, Annie had faced many situations that made her think she’d lost her mind. When Andy had flushed his entire set of little green soldiers down the toilet. When Will had decided that her ruby red lipstick was the perfect shade for a racing stripe down the center of her great-grandmother’s antique lace tablecloth. When her ex had reacted to her request for a divorce by asking if she’d picked up his dry cleaning. She’d managed to hold herself together through every crisis, though she wasn’t entirely sure how.
But today, crazy didn’t feel so terrifying. In fact, crazy felt downright invigorating.
As she and Drew landed in New York, unloaded their sparse belongings and headed to the hotel in a limousine he’d engaged for the occasion, she seriously considered seducing the man in the backseat.
She’d always wanted to do it in the back of a stretch. A woman who had been without a husband for a large part of her marriage and then divorced for a year couldn’t exist without entertaining a few fantasies. Of course, she’d never imagined Drew Brighton as her costar in her imagined erotic interludes. But now that he’d nibbled so deliciously on her neck and fingers, told her she was beautiful and that he’d been fantasizing about her since he was a teenager, she could not think of anyone else for the role.
<
br /> Despite his aversion to wearing the label, Drew was a nice guy. He was young, yes, but that wasn’t his fault. If her advanced age didn’t bother him, why should she get hung up on a number? He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was all man. And he was smart, breathtakingly good-looking and intense in his pursuit of her. Would the world really stop revolving or implode in a rush of fiery destruction if she let him catch her?
Just for two days?
An affair with him could not last longer than that. She was a single mother with two children. He was a young man with a booming business and a life that probably wouldn’t include a wife and kids for a very long time—if ever. The only thing stopping her from jumping his bones at the first opportunity was knowing that once her brother married his sister, there would be no avoiding him after their affair ended—no pretending they hadn’t had passionate sex for a wild weekend before the wedding.
Could she live with those consequences?
When he placed his hand possessively on the small of her back while leading her to the elevator in their hotel, she thought, yeah.
Yeah, she could.
As soon as the brass doors closed behind them, Annie’s breath caught. The interior of the lift was entirely mirrored. How hot would it be to do it in a confined space with reflections of their bodies assailing her from every direction?
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his tone low and ripe with expectation.
Her mouth was suddenly dry. Thirsty. Parched for a drink of Drew, who was such a tall glass of ice-cold water, she thought she’d suddenly been transported to a desert on the hottest day of the year. “Annie?”
Her gaze darted to the many mirrored surfaces all around them, and then to the security camera in the upper right-hand corner. “Annie.”
This time, her name was an admonition.
“What?” she asked, with feigned innocence.
