Cari Quinn
He had three. One from his father, asking if he"d reconsidered his ill-advised two-week “vacation”; one from his mother, inquiring if he"d remembered to pack enough underwear; and one from Rachel, simply “Call me.”
He would, but not yet. Not until he"d settled into his room, unpacked his carry-on, and ditched his wrinkled shirt and slacks. A shower might be nice too. He needed to get the city grime off his skin.
Shawn stowed his rental in the Barclay"s parking garage and fought his way up the clogged street to his hotel. To his mind, traveling was mostly a waste of time.
Unlike Rachel, he enjoyed his hometown and everything that came with it: the ocean breezes that made the scorching hot sunshine not only bearable but addictive, the palm trees, the curvaceous women wearing crop tops and cut-off shorts all year long.
He grinned, noticing a roller-blading redhead with an MP3 player seemingly surgically implanted to her head. She fit those specifications exactly. Maybe eye candy could be found everywhere, but Cali eye candy just tasted better.
And if Rachel heard his thoughts now, she"d backhand him.
Not that he cared. She"d chosen to chase her ex across the States, which entitled him to do a little harmless female watching.
Less than an hour later, the female he was watching was his own. And she was pissed.
She"d called before he hopped in the shower to demand his location. After he"d given it, she"d hung up on him. He"d grinned all the way through his shower. If he didn"t think it would get him punched, he"d be grinning now too.
She was so hot when she was mad.
“How dare you?” Rachel"s fingers dug into her hips with such severity as she paced across his hotel room he figured she"d leave bruises. “Do you honestly think you have any right to follow me around as if I"m a child needing supervision?”
Slicking back his wet hair from the shower he"d barely finished before she appeared, Shawn sauntered over to the king-size bed that dominated half his suite.
Though he wore only a towel, he didn"t hesitate to sprawl among the navy blue silk pillows. If she saw more than she wanted to, too bad.
“I told you I intended to come last night.”
“And I told you to forget it.”
His lips slid into what passed for a smile. “Sorry, heiress. I don"t take orders from you.”
“And I don"t take ultimatums from you.” Rachel charged forward and skewered a burgundy nail into his damp chest. “You have no right to be here. It"s practically friggin" stalking.”
“Is it?” He grabbed her finger, trapping it in his fist while his gaze nailed hers.
“I see it another way entirely.”
Insatiable
19
Her lower lip trembled, a sure sign she was struggling to keep hold of her temper. “Do tell.”
Even when he"d said he intended to kiss her again, the phone and the thousands of miles between them had acted as a kind of impenetrable safety zone.
But now that she stood before him in her skintight black jeans with her oversize white shirt buttoned chastely all the way up to her neck, he couldn"t find the words.
“You"re not a stupid woman.” Shawn loosened his hold on her finger. No matter what he"d indicated on the phone, it"d be her choice whether she stayed or cut and run.
“No.” Clearly challenging him, she cocked her head. “And because I"m not, excuse me if I find the timing of this sudden lust—”
When she fumbled, he gripped her wrist. “This sudden lust isn"t sudden.
Maybe it proves I"m a fool, but I kept hoping you"d stop flitting from man to man long enough to see me.”
She jerked free, but she didn"t retreat. “You"re my closest friend. I never gave you any reason to believe I felt otherwise, so don"t pull this crap on me now. You don"t want me to see Ryan.”
“Damn straight I don"t,” he agreed, swinging his legs off the bed so fast his gaping towel took another leap toward indecency. His move forced her back a step, then two as he rose and grasped her shoulders. “I"ll do whatever it takes to keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“My life, my mistakes.” She tipped her head back until their gazes were level.
“I"m leaving.”
“So go.” Shawn lifted his hands to her face. “In a minute.”
Rather than swooping in to ravage, he stretched his fingers over her cheeks, cradling them in his palms as his lips brushed hers. With that first taste, as wicked and dark as her wine red lipstick, heat coursed through his veins to gather in his groin.
It took all his will not to crush her against him as her fingers curled over his shoulders. But when her tongue slipped between his lips to war with his, he nearly lost his shaky grip on the torrent of need choke-chained inside him.