Tim surveyed the room. “I see a couple of honeys with my name on their lips. I’ll catch you two later. Like tomorrow afternoon.”
“Don’t you want to join him?” Maddie asked Alex. “You two make an impressive tag team.”
“I’m not getting suckered into that discussion.” He reached out and laced his fingers in hers. “Let’s dance.”
“Hmmm.” She gave him a playful pinch on his arm. “I’ve heard dancing is the equivalent to other horizontal activities.”
“Empty your one-track mind and let me lead.”
He guided her to the wooden dance floor on the open terrace, overlooking the starlit ocean, and for the next hour, they twisted and glided to the various tunes the DJ supplied, ranging from sixties to modern music.
The DJ slowed the music and played a ballad about a man wanting to be his lover’s hero. Alex gathered Maddie into his arms and held her close to his chest. She wound her hands around his neck.
He closed his eyes and buried his face in her soft hair. How did women do that? Did they pour aphrodisiac oils into their shampoo? The smell of his own shampoo never turned him on.
He had inhaled her scent many times before and had been able to rein himself in, but he found it difficult now, while her soft fingers caressed his neck.
The dance was a slow one, but his heart was doing hip-hop. Her nearness intoxicated him more than the rum he had drunk and his zipper was now uncomfortably tight.
He hesitated for a beat then brushed his lips on her neck. Her soft moan sent an electric jolt up his spine while they swayed to the music.
Man. If Maddie weren’t a friend, a coworker, or George’s niece, they’d be in his suite burning up the sheets.
And what the hell was wrong with having sex with her? Tonight. They could get it out of their systems and get on with their assignment. Maybe they wouldn’t be compatible in bed. They’d laugh it off and continue with their friendship.
Who the hell was he trying to kid?
If the touch of her fingers against his neck scorched his skin, then their naked bodies twined together would cause a five-alarm fire.
Damn it.
He couldn’t follow through, and he knew it. Not only would he feel like a jerk tomorrow in the cold light of day, but he would also run the risk of losing the only platonic relationship he had ever been able to have with a woman.
His ear tickled when she whispered, “You’re a good dancer for an uptight reporter.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “Does my salsa rate higher than a chocolate sundae?” He chuckled. “Say…with a cherry on top?”
She tugged at the hair on his neckline. Her eyes sparkled when she met his gaze. “Revenge is sweet, and I don’t mind going into sugar shock.”
“I figured it was my turn to get a rise out of you.”
The music ended and she flashed him a saucy grin. “Don’t look now, but I think I’m the one who got a rise out of you.”
Christ, she’s right.
He was stiffer than his nine iron.
While she laughed, he managed a quick recovery, twirled her around and dipped her. He brought her up, held her tight and kissed her hard and fast on the lips. He heard her soft moan as their gazes once again locked. The blatant invitation in her smile shot right through to his chest, infiltrating all his defenses. Make that weakened defenses.
Without a word, he cupped her elbow and led her off the dance floor.
Mother of God, I need a dip in the Pacific tonight.
As they returned to their seats, he noticed a man at the bar staring intently at Maddie. He looked familiar. Alex had seen him in the lobby when they had checked in, and he was sure he was the same guy who had lingered near Maddie’s door last night.
Alex caught and held the man’s stare. The stranger stood, almost knocking over the stool, and hurried out of the bar. Alex’s horny mood evaporated. “Thank you for the dances,” he said, and caught her disappointed expression. “Let’s leave. You look tired.”
She paused, shrugged and said, “Yeah, okay, let’s go.”
They walked back to the hotel in silence. Had she noticed the man also? He’d interviewed enough private investigators to recognize them, and the man at the bar was without doubt a PI. Why the hell would a PI follow them? It didn’t make any sense. He still needed to exercise caution. He looked around to make sure they were alone.
Maddie cast him a sideways questioning glance. “You should seek professional help for that paranoia.”
He smiled. Her teasing meant she had perked up.
“I’ll add paranoia to the long list of issues you say I have.” He lightened his tone to alleviate any fears he might have instilled in her.
They were at the hotel now, and he walked her to her suite’s door. She slipped her key card into the slot, turned and looked up at him. “Want to come in?”
He hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping her at arm’s length and giving in to what they had started on the dance floor.
The latter was definitely the wrong decision. However, he didn’t want to dump her at the door. He would go in, watch some TV, banter and then go back to his own room.
Simple. Right?
Oh, yeah. Easy as breathing.
He tapped her nose. “Only if you behave yourself.”
She walked in and held the door open. “Do you think you’re that irresistible?” She locked the door and kicked her shoes off.
“That’s what you tell me.”
“I’m only repeating what’s written on the walls in every lady’s room in town.” She laughed as he shook his head. “Gotcha.”
She sank onto the ivory sofa cushions and patted the seat next to her. He dropped beside her and stretched out his legs. He picked up the remote control. “Mind if I check out the hockey scores?”
“Go ahead.”
He turned the TV on and channel-surfed until he found ESPN.
Maddie watched Alex concentrate on the sports news, wondering what had caused him to sound reserved after their last dance and act so guarded as they walked back from the bar. It had to relate to work, she concluded.
Alex was a perfectionist and as serious as a heart attack when it came to his career. Although she teased him about his suspicious nature, she couldn’t blame him. His job required him to get up close and personal to the action in the most conflict-ridden parts of the world. However, this assignment was a safe one. It was a great opportunity for him to relax. And now was the perfect time to start.
She inched her way closer to him, put her hand on his shoulder and drew an invisible pattern on the sleeve of his burgundy button-down shirt.
“Alex, please shut the TV off. I want to talk to you.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, not looking at her.
She waited a few minutes. When he didn’t budge, she reached for the remote and clicked the TV off.
“Rangers won tonight.” He twisted to face her. “Don’t you want to see the highlights?”
There was no way to lead up to this gently. With a surge of assertiveness driven by desire as well as a couple of cosmopolitans, she took both his hands in hers and mustered up her confidence. “I want you to lick me cross-eyed.”
“You want me to what?”
“Okay, that sounded better inside my head.” She squeezed his hands. “I want sex. Great sex. Alex, let’s do it.”
His eyes widened a fraction. “I admit, holding you on the dance floor nearly drove me crazy.” He squeezed her hand. “I thought about it and decided I can’t…we can’t—”
She leaned toward him, their lips almost touching. “Let’s discuss this after we kiss.”
“Don’t make this harder than it is.”
I’d like to make it as hard as humanly possible. She buried her hands in his hair. “Just one kiss?”
“
One kiss, huh?”
“Yeah, you know, get it—and this awkward tension between us—out of the way.”
He stared at her for a few beats, then bent his head and brushed his lips against hers.
“Hmmm,” she said. “That didn’t do it. Still feeling the tension. I say we try for another one. Or two.” She lowered her voice and hoped it sounded like a sexy whisper. “Deep. Long. Slow. Melt-in-your-mouth kisses that you wish would last the whole night…”
Quicker than a cheetah, he lifted her on top of his knees and into the cradle of his arms, tangling his fingers in her hair. “You mean like this?” He buried the words against her mouth in a hoarse groan.
His succulent lips met hers in a passionate, toe-curling kiss that could bring a woman back from the brink of death. She tasted a hint of rum, as if he’d shared his drink with her.
The inside of her thighs twitched as he pressed his lips against hers, with soft, slow back-and-forth movements. She felt as sultry as Makana Island itself. Her breasts were the exotic scenery waiting to be explored and her sex as wet and wild as the ocean. This is how a bee must feel, she thought, when it lands on a fresh flower. Its mind focused on one desire. All its senses heightened with the anticipation of suckling the flower’s sweetness, turning the nectar into honey and reaching heart-pounding ecstasy.
He raised his mouth and trailed nibbling kisses across her forehead and along her temple, his breath as ragged as hers.
Her lips sizzled from his kiss. She dropped her chin on his chest and gave him a wide-open smile. “In-freaking-credible.”
His seductive gaze almost unhinged her. His deep brown eyes roamed down to her breasts. She swallowed hard. A twinge of apprehension ran through her.
What if he thought they were too small?
Damn that lack of confidence about her bra size. She shoved the insecurity away. Besides, after that doozy of a kiss, turning her bones to rubber, she was sure he was in the midst of a neurochemical cocktail rush.
“Did I mention you’re smokin’ in that dress?” He pressed his mouth to hers, cupped her breast and ran his thumb over her erect nipple. “Especially here.” He sprinkled soft kisses on each breast through the silky material.
She buried her face in his neck and whispered, “Thank you.”
He clasped his hands behind her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. Her hands dug into his impossibly hard shoulders. He deepened their kiss.
Her heart tap-danced against her ribs as their tongues mimicked the thrusts their bodies desired. A long, drawn-out moan trekked up her throat. His tongue slowly seared a path across her lips, rousing her passion, and she could tell his grew stronger.
Lordy. Lordy. This man’s kisses could melt titanium.
They had a serious case of the hots and any minute now, she expected their clothes to shoot up in flames.
Alex savored the hint of mandarin in her kisses, mingling with the sweetness of her lips.
“You’re delicious,” he whispered into her hair as he lowered her thin straps. He kissed the freckles across her bare shoulders. Her skin felt as smooth as her silk dress.
Their pleasure was only a taste of what they could experience together if he allowed it to go further.
With a lot of effort, he pulled away and fixed his gaze on her for ten pounding heartbeats.
She met his stare with potent, carnal desire.
“God knows, I want you,” he said. “But I think we better slow down.”
“Stop thinking,” she responded between quick breaths. “And keep kissing.”
He closed his eyes. His mind played a fantasy of Maddie seductively looking over her shoulder, egging him on to join her as she gyrated her hips, her dress riding over her hot ass. His mouth watered at the thought of exploring, tasting and savoring the sweet scent of her sexiness. He wanted to delve into her erogenous zones, have her rock and grind against him, take her passion to new heights until she begged to be taken any which way her heart desired.
He didn’t need much persuasion to continue where they left off after that image.
Reclaiming her lips, he crushed her to his chest and filled her with a long heat-filled kiss, relishing her scent. Her skin was infused with the scent of whatever chick lotion she used. It reminded him of lavender in an English garden.
English garden.
Damn. England.
Now was not the time for any romantic entanglements. He needed to focus on his career and the possible move to England.
Shut up, Donovan. She did say no strings attached.
True.
He returned to her tender mouth.
After long mouthwatering minutes, she buried her face in his neck. “Remind me to thank my uncle for assigning us to Makana.”
Reality check.
George Saunders had entrusted him with his niece on this project.
What the hell am I thinking?
He wanted her. Really wanted her. He had to pull back before it became impossible to stop. Backing off would be painful. He reminded himself that he didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship for one night of lust.
A movie reel of his past raced through his mind. He knew better, damn it. It didn’t matter that she’d said she wanted a casual, no-strings arrangement. Even one night of raw ecstasy in Maddie’s naked embrace wasn’t worth the risk of another ruined career and bitter breakup. He liked and respected her too much to involve her in a rerun of that part of his life.
Somehow, he found the strength and pulled away from her. She covered his mouth with abandoned hunger, captured his tongue, and sucked on it like a woman possessed.
Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the donkey. Where did she learn how to kiss like that?
Snippets of last night’s conversation flooded his mind. He remembered her plan for him.
Sexual boot camp?
Sex tutor?
Like hell. She didn’t need a coach.
Determined to do the right thing now, he reached for his last shred of self-control, even as she continued to drive him insane with her touches.
He sat tall, took her by the shoulders and moved her gently away from him—all the while beaming an order down south, where it had hardened even more at the thought of exploring the sex goddess he held in his arms, to soften the hell up.
“Maddie.” He blew out a breath and tried to steady his voice. “You…you’ve got me so worked up…more…than I imagined—”
“That’s a good thing,” she answered. “Let’s go into the bedroom—”
“But…” He swallowed past a lump the size of a golf ball in his throat and retreated to the far side of the couch. “God knows,” he dragged his hands down his face, “I’m attracted to you. But I have to do the right thing—”
“Believe me, you did everything right.”
Beep. Beep.
He fished his Blackberry out of his pocket. His eyes never left hers as he jabbed at it with his thumb and steadied his voice. “Donovan.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my niece down there?” George Saunders asked in a Dog Day Afternoon tone.
Chapter Six
“In this game called life, there is a saying: sometimes you’re the bug
and sometimes you’re the windshield.”
—Alex Donovan
“Donovan, answer me, damn you.”
“George?” Alex rose in one fluid motion and paced the length of the suite. “Where are you calling from?”
“New York, where else? You’re supposed to be looking after Maddie, not seducing her on a dance floor.”
Alex lowered his voice. “How did you—” He paused and thought about the man in the bar, the same one he had spotted in the lobby. “Are you having us followed?”
To his dismay, Maddie planted herself in his path. Her scent still lingered on his shirt,
and the memory of her soft breast cupped in the palm of his hand made it difficult to put a coherent sentence together.
“Is that my uncle?”
Alex nodded.
Jesus. He never should have agreed to this damn assignment.
She wrestled the Blackberry from his hands. “Uncle George, are you taking your blood pressure meds out for a test drive? Relax and don’t worry. We’ll ace this project. Now, go to bed. Luv ya.” She shut the Blackberry and tossed it on the sofa. “There, was that hard?”
He stared at her in irritation. “Real smooth. And rude. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll call him back from my room.”
“Call him tomorrow.” She barred his escape and pressed her back to the door. “He needs to chill out tonight.” Her seductive gaze rested on his mouth, and her slim fingers stroked the back of his neck, causing his heart to pound in his ears. “Aren’t you going to finish what we started?”
She had no idea how fuckin’ sexy her voice sounded. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to block out the sensation of her touch. Her eyes shone a brilliant green, like leaves in a lush garden.
Lush garden? Son-of-a-bitch, Donovan, now you’re sounding like a horny dorky poet.
He tore his eyes away from her slender neck—where a few moments ago he’d nibbled on her delicious skin—glanced at his watch and forced a calmness he didn’t feel into his voice. “We’re both tired, and I’m going to call George tonight.”
“Tired?” Color flared on her cheeks. “We both want to head into the bedroom and you know it. Right?”
“The safest answer is…no.”
Raw hurt flashed in her expression. “Are you going to tell me you don’t feel the chemistry between us?”
Sighing, he folded her into the circle of his arms. “I get intimate with women who play by the same rules as I do.” He gave her a light kiss on her forehead and released her. “Not someone like you.” He wanted to rip his tongue out when she flinched at his words. He had to admit, they did reek of rejection, big time. At this point, it would be useless to rephrase the sentence.
“Someone. Like. Me?”
What a Girl Wants Page 6
