Twice Tempted (Holland Springs)

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Twice Tempted (Holland Springs) Page 5

by Marquita Valentine


  “I’ll live to see tomorrow,” he drawled, feeling slightly guilty. He hadn’t thought of that when he decided to cause a big scene. Okay, so he wasn’t the direct cause, but he had milked it, never considering that it could be damaging to Zoe’s reputation. “However, I was referring to Act One when you were in your element.”

  She gave him a big smile. “You’re my hero.”

  “Actually, I’m the villain.”

  Her face turned pink and her eyes shifted away, staring at the corridor in front of them. “So is this the kind of the help you wanted?”

  Stopping at the elevators, he pressed up. “I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

  Chapter Six

  “Press fifty-nine.” Zoe gestured at the rows of numbers Christian’s body blocked. There was no way she would reach around him. He was too close for comfort as it was. The adrenaline of their performance for the fans was quickly waning and cold reality was taking its place.

  He hit the button with his elbow and moved to the opposite side of the elevator to lean against the mirrored wall. “You smell delicious, Zoe. Good enough to eat and I haven’t had any dessert… yet.”

  Guess the whole talking to her like she was a real person, with goals other than hooking up with him was over. “Pressure Play.”

  “What?”

  “I thought we talked about this?” She sighed at his blank look.“You just gave me a line from one of your movies.”

  A small frown played on his perfect lips. “How in God’s name do you remember that?”

  “It’s a pretty good line,” she admitted.

  “And an erotic experience for any woman.”

  “You are so full of it.”

  “You could be instead.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. A man and woman stepped inside, sparing her from trying to think of a snappy comeback. The young couple looked at them, smiling from ear to ear.

  “You two are so cute. Look at him staring at you. Another couple in love,” the ginger-haired woman gushed.

  Zoe shifted from one foot to another. “Oh, we’re not together. He’s not—”

  “But the way—”

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s totally in love with me,” Christian said with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close.

  Zoe wanted to shoot him a dirty look, but the woman looked like a puppy that had just had its favorite treat taken away. “Totally,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Clearly mollified, the woman smiled. “Aren’t they cute, sweetie?”

  Sweetie beamed at his companion, kissing her softly on the cheek. “Almost as cute as you, Mrs. Andrews."

  Mrs. Andrews threw her arms around her husband, leaning back in the cradle of his arms. “If you think I’m cute now, wait until we get back to our room, Mr. Andrews,” she purred before whispering in his ear, making his eyes widen.

  Mr. Andrews looked at them. “What can I say? I’m a lucky man.”

  “Congratulations,” Zoe said, mentally making a note of the Andrews. Quickie wedding in Vegas would be an excellent undercover storyline for her Katrina Steele series.

  Christian echoed her sentiments, but his voice didn’t ring true to her ears. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was busy playing with his cell.

  “Oh, Perry, just wait until our families hear about this. They won’t believe that we did it!”

  “They won’t believe I met and married the love of my life after knowing you for only forty-eight hours?”

  “Forty-eight hours and sixty seconds,” the really new Mrs. Andrews corrected before she passionately kissed her husband.

  A few seconds later, the doors opened again and the now amorous couple got out without a second look at them.

  “I give them six months.” Christian slid his phone into his pocket

  “Until what?” She ducked out of his side embrace.

  “Until they get a divorce.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “What a horrible thing to say. They could have a long and happy marriage for all you know.”

  He crossed his arms and glared back. “After forty-eight hours of knowing each other? Not bloody likely.”

  “I take it you don’t believe in love at first sight.”

  “Hardly. My parents have known each other their entire lives and can’t stand to be in the same room for longer than five minutes.”

  “Couples fight, but it’s how you make up that counts.”

  “My mother lives in France with her lover while my father divides his time between London and St. Petersburg with his. They don’t plan on making up. Ever.”

  “Oh, well,”—She nibbled on her bottom lip.—“Aren’t divorced people allowed to have significant others?”

  His beautiful mouth lifted at the corner. “They’re still married.”

  She gaped at him for a moment. No wonder he thought what he did. With parents like his, she might be of the same opinion. “That’s terrible.”

  “Sorry, love, not everybody lives in Pleasantville or has the fairy tale marriage.”

  “Well, I think it’s romantic that the Andrews could do something so life changing on a whim. Maybe you should try it.” She flung her arm out and watched in horror as her purse went sailing into his chest. “I’m so sorry; it slipped. I’m a bit of a klutz at times.”

  The side of his mouth quirked as he held the beige Coach bag out to her. “I might have noticed that about you.”

  “Sorry,” she said again, her cheeks heating.

  He pushed away from the wall. “Anyway, who are you to lecture me about spontaneity? I bet you’ve never done a crazy thing in your life. Hell, you probably sit in church every Sunday in a pure white dress, thinking pure white thoughts while some dumbass of a boyfriend is too busy to notice the naughty lingerie you’re wearing underneath.”

  His lashes lowered over his eyes, giving them a slumberous, sexy quality as he added, “And you do nothing about it.”

  Had he hacked into her email account and read her messages to Melanie? His assessment of her relationship with her ex was so close to the truth that she wanted to throw her purse at him again. On purpose and at his head.

  “I can be spontaneous,” she insisted.

  “You need to let me spontaneously screw you.”

  “Seriously?” She shoved a finger at his muscular chest.“You need to spontaneously combust.”

  “Still not impressed,” he said, catching her hand with his large one. A thrill of heat emanated from where he touched her.“You can do better.”

  “I spontaneously got in here with you, didn’t I?”

  A smirk fit his lips as a teasing light entered his eyes. “Yeah, riding in an elevator with a man is so spontaneous. Someone alert Perez Hilton.”

  “You... you.” She smacked her palm against her dress. Her purse fell to the floor with a thud, but she was beyond caring about something so trivial. “You are so irritating. You drive me insane with your cocky ego and dumb pick-up lines. You make me want to… to just… I want to…” This was her chance. She could tell him exactly what she thought of him. Tell him exactly what a pure asshat he was and let him fend for himself, no matter how nicely he asked her to help him.

  He leaned over, lips parted in obvious invitation and she took a small step closer. He tugged her even closer. Heat from his body touched hers. Oh, God. All thoughts of telling him anything dissolved like sugar in hot tea.

  “To what?”

  She grabbed onto one of his wide shoulders and slammed her mouth against his, almost knocking him over with the ferocity of her kiss until they fell into a corner. He remained motionless at first, letting her kiss him. Then his mouth parted and his tongue teased her lips, and she couldn’t think of any reason why she hadn’t let him do this at the first opportunity.

  He cupped her face, tenderly rubbing her jaw with his thumbs as he broke their kiss. “That wasn’t ou
r first kiss.”

  “No,” she said, wishing it had awakened him like Sleeping Beauty in gender reversal. Yet another reason why she had to be realistic about things. Fairy tales never came true. Happy endings never happened anywhere but in movies and books. At least not for her.

  “Tell me where we met before.” His expression was intense.

  She tried to wriggle out of his embrace. “Let go.”

  “Oh, no you don’t, love.” He nuzzled her hair. “Please, I want to know.”

  She licked her bottom lip, preparing to spill her guts, but something held her back. Mostly pride and embarrassment. “Does it really matter, Ian?” She had to put a wall back up. She had to remind herself of who he was to the world and to her.

  “It’s Christian, and hell no.”

  One minute she was standing and the next she was crushed against his chest as he gave her a pop-up foot kiss. His mouth slanted over hers, teasing with his tongue, running it over her bottom lip until he could slide it inside again. She returned his kiss, her tongue rubbing against his and licking at the insides of his mouth. He tasted of passion and ecstasy all rolled into one.

  Her body was on fire, desire shooting through every nerve ending. She couldn’t get close enough to him, his hard body. His scent, his taste intoxicating. Of their own volition her arms rose, her fingers finding their way to his hair. Tugging him closer.

  He moaned into her mouth, rubbing his erection against her.

  Too much, too fast, her brain warned, kicking into gear.

  She tore her mouth away, laying her head on his chest. His heart beat at a pace that matched hers.

  “Put your mouth back on me.”

  “Where?”

  “Christ—anywhere.”

  Unable to help herself, she nipped at his bottom lip. “Here?”

  “Yes.” He cupped her shoulders, then smoothed the material of her dress as his hands slid down her back.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the balls of her feet to kiss the side of his neck. “What about here?”

  “I want to be in you. Right here, right now.” Cool air hit her legs as she felt her dress being tugged up. His palm slid under them hem, brushing the inside of her thigh. “Are you willing to give me that?” Without waiting for an answer, his tongue teased her lips open and eased inside.

  She allowed him to press her against the wall of the elevator, his hard, male body a foreign sensation that she wanted to experience. Only he wasn’t foreign to her, this situation was entirely familiar and she knew the consequences of giving into the temptation of him.

  She made herself stop kissing him, made her arms go back to the place where they belonged, but she couldn’t contain the thrills of pleasure that continued to remind her of how good things could be between them. At least physically. “I can’t. We have to stop.”

  His hands fell away, clenching into fists as he struggled for composure. She knew him that well, even if he still had no idea who she was.

  Which made it all the more embarrassing.

  Covering her face with her hands, she sought the solace of a corner. He caught her as she turned away, encircling her in his arms once more. “At least let me hold you, yes?”

  “All right.” She could handle this. A hug, even this sweet, wasn’t dangerous. Or so she tried to convince herself.

  The elevator dinged again. They broke apart like boxers in the ring.

  A healthy flush covered his cheekbones. “I’ll walk you to your room, if you’d like.”

  Kneeling to pick up her purse, she mulled over the best way to get herself out of the situation she’d allowed herself to get into.

  Christian tried to give her his most disarming smile, but it wasn’t easy when all he wanted to do was push her up against the nearest wall and sink inside of her. He knew without a doubt that they’d kissed before. Almost every first kiss was an awkward positioning of hands and lips, but there had been none of that. They had come together like old lovers. She’d known exactly where to touch him, exactly how to use her tongue and teeth to drive him insane.

  For once in his life, he was bothered by the meaningless kisses he’d given women, because for a woman like Zoe, no kiss was meaningless. They had been intimate before. He’d bet his career on it. At what level, he wasn’t certain.

  Despite wanting to know, he chose to respect her decision not to tell him. He knew all about pride and keeping up appearances. Besides, he was confident he could get it out of her later. Perhaps over a few glasses of wine.

  “I’m not sure.” She bit at her bottom lip and he had the urge to kiss the spot.

  He held up his hands and said, “I’m harmless…remember, knife lady?”

  She grinned, and all the tension of the moment dissipated. Taking his arm, they walked down the hallway until she stopped at her door. “This is where I get off.” Eyes widening, her face turned red. “Don’t say it.”

  “You’re no fun.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want to see you again. Tomorrow.” Actually, he wanted to see her for the rest of the night, but he wanted to do things differently with her. Take his time for once.

  “Are you asking me out on a date or is this more of the help you’re wanting from someone like me?” she asked, her eyes wary.

  “About that—”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”

  “Quit worrying,” she said with a little smile. “I’d like that explanation now, if you’re willing to share.”

  If he shared everything, she might run in the opposite direction. “There are pictures of me that could negatively affect a worthwhile organization, and my—our agent seems to think that changing my reputation by being seen with you would help things should the pictures go viral.” Leaning closer, he breathed in the honeysuckle scent of her. “I won’t kiss you again, unless you ask me.”

  Her eyes clouded. “Let’s keep things purely professional, okay?”

  No it wasn’t okay. But he had plenty of time to convince her to come around to his way of thinking. “Meet me around one at the main pool. I have a private cabana and your name will be on the list.”

  She arched an elegant brow and he was entranced by the curve. Good God, if he stayed any longer he’d be composing sonnets to it.

  “Aren’t you supposed to pick me up?” she asked with a teasing smile, then bit her lip. “I don’t mind flirting with you, if you think it will help. Plus, it’s good for my ego.”

  Progress, no matter how small, was progress. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do all night, woman.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “So, is it a date?”

  She pushed open her door and walked in, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Guess you’ll have to wait until one to find out. Well, I had fun tonight. Sorta. It was interesting to say the least. Have a good night.”

  “Good night, Zoe,” he said as she smiled at him and shut the door. He heard a crash and a ‘Good Lord!’ “You okay in there?” He pressed his forehead against the door as he waited for her answer.

  “I’m fi—okay,” came her shout from within. “Stupid table got in my way.”

  “Right, then. Good night.”

  “Night,” she called through the door.

  He grinned as he walked away, hands shoved in his pockets, ignoring the pain and happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

  Chapter Seven

  Christian glanced at the Breitling on his wrist. 12:55. He had five minutes until he saw Zoe again. Five minutes before he’d find out if she would show. Five minutes until he lost his damn mind waiting for her.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Brennen was sprawled on an enormous lounger trying to get rid of a massive hangover with a little hair of the dog.

  A pretty brunette with green eyes and killer wit.

  “Nothing,” Christian said, looking at his watch again. 12:57. His heart sped up as a brunette wearing a tiny bikini walked toward the
m, then slowed as he realized it wasn’t Zoe.

  Brennen laughed and then groaned, adjusting his sunglasses before pulling on a baseball cap. “You’re so full of shit, but I’ll bide my time. Can’t wait to meet the hot piece of ass that’s got you standing at attention.”

  “She’s not a hot piece of ass,” Christian said, earning a confused look from Brennen. “I mean she’s hot, but Zoe’s—”

  “An actual person? I thought zoe was French for awesome,” Brennen said. “I also thought you were out of your mind last night. How many women did you turn down?”

  After leaving Zoe, Christian had headed to the nightclub to meet up with Brennen and Wade. As luck would have had it, they’d already become acquainted with Vanessa and the twins.

  For once, he had been content to relax, smile for pictures and drink some beer. He’d thought nothing of turning down a few dozen fangirls’ offers of bedtime happy hour. But of course, he’d told himself as he went to bed (alone), it had nothing to do with Zoe Ambrose.

  “As many as I needed to. Look, be nice to her. None of your usual bullshit,” Christian warned.

  Brennen grabbed his chest and made a face. “You hurt me, bro. You really do.”

  Christian swore as he glanced at his watch again. It was past one and still no sign of her. He’d been stood up and he didn’t have her damn number. But he did have her room number. He motioned a pool waitress over.

  “You look pissed,” Brennen said.

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Christian heard a crash, then a ‘whoops’ and an ‘I’m so sorry’. His entire body relaxed and then tensed in anticipation as Zoe came into view, wearing a bright yellow sundress and wedge shoes. Her hair piled on top of her head like she’d just gotten out of the shower… or bed.

  “Never mind,” he said to an obviously disappointed woman wearing a barely there bikini and holding a tray. She tossed her hair and sauntered off.

  Zoe gave him a big smile. “Hi.”

  Without even thinking about it he met her halfway. “You’re late,” he complained.

  “But I’m so worth it.” She grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his as if it was something they did all the time. And he liked it.

 

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