By Invitation Only (14 page)

He pulled his BlackBerry out of his pocket, replied to his assistant’s text about the Jenson file and then got online. But none of the Peyton Millers he found on Google were reporters or even had a blog about celebrities. He was more intrigued than ever. As soon as he’d showered and changed into something slightly more formal for dinner, he made his way to the terrace.

The aroma of grilled steaks and salmon wafting in from an outdoor kitchen made his mouth water. And the sight of the curvy wedding crasher waiting for him at the French doors made his pulse race. She was still wearing the same short dress and green shoes from earlier, but her large bag was missing.

Her long brunette hair had been tamed somewhat, but it still curled deliciously around her shoulders. And her thick eyeglasses gave her a studious look that had him fantasizing about seducing a stern librarian.

As he reached her side, he extended his elbow. “Shall we get a table? I’m starving.”

She frowned and ignored his arm. “All right.”

Was that…annoyance on her face? That sort of reaction could hurt a lesser guy’s ego. Amused, he pushed through the crowd and spoke to the maître’d, who led them to a small wrought iron table. White lights twinkled in the trees above them and employees were lighting torches placed at intervals along the stone path that led down to the beach.

After they sat, she crossed her legs and then uncrossed them, yanked on her skirt and crossed them again.

Quinn watched her, unable to keep from chuckling. “You good now?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Yes.”

Their waiter appeared, and Quinn ordered a glass of dark lager, and then turned to her. “What will you have?”

She cleared her throat and twisted a paper napkin into shreds. “How many ounces of rum are in your frozen piña colada?”

Once the waiter informed her, she ordered the drink, but she had to have extra pineapple—on the side. Fascinating.

They each ordered something from the grill, and then Quinn sat back to study the intriguing woman as she fidgeted with the sugar packets on the table.

Her eyes were the same bottle-green as in the pattern of her dress. But as he watched, they changed shades to more of a hazel as the rays of the sun caught her face.

Once their drinks arrived, Peyton pounced on hers as if she’d been lost in the Sahara for a decade. Her lips wrapped around the straw and Quinn’s attention was drawn to her mouth. They were exotic lips, plump and expressive. He had to look away as he sipped his lager. Man, his social life had gone through too long a dry spell if that’s all it took for him to be ready.

“So. There are eighteen Peyton Millers in the United States.”

She choked on her drink. “You looked me up?”

“Ten of whom are men.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“There’s a Peyton Miller in Houston, but I don’t detect a Texas twang in your speech like the Maynards’.”

“I’m not from Houston.” She gave him a tight smile.

Superb deflection. Only confirming information he already knew. He could use someone like her on his mergers and acquisitions team.

Their food arrived and he cut into his steak, forked the bite into his mouth and chewed. “There was a Peyton Miller in L.A. But you can’t be a friend of Holly’s, or you wouldn’t have avoided her earlier.” He watched her closely as she pushed the salmon around on her plate.

“I also called every celebrity impersonator business and none of them have a Holly look-alike.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Well, maybe I free-lance.” She took a satisfied bite of fish.

Another nonanswer.

“So, how about you, Mr. Smith?”

“Quinn.”

“Quinn. Friend of the bride or groom?”

“Groom. His father and mine are business associates.”

“Oh, and what does your father do?” She sipped more of her drink and then bit into the pineapple wedge. Juice dripped down her chin and she blotted it with her napkin.

Two things Quinn refused to discuss this weekend: his job, and his father. “I came here to get away from work and relax. So, for the next three days, company talk is strictly forbidden.”

She raised her brows. “You work?”

Ouch. He grabbed his chest and mimed pulling out a dagger. “You really know how to hurt a guy’s ego.”

At least she had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry.” She lowered her gaze and slurped the last of her piña colada through the straw. “Mmm, that was delicious.”

“Want another?” He raised a hand to motion to the waiter.

“Oh. No.”

“No?” He dropped his arm.

“If I were to consume two piña coladas the rum-to-body-weight ratio would bring my blood alcohol level over the legal limit.”

Quinn blinked. “But you’re not driving anywhere tonight, are you?” Had she gotten a room here for the night? The only luggage he’d seen was that bag.

She grimaced. “Unfortunately, I had no choice but to get a room. However, my objective is to remain clearheaded.”

Clearheaded? That was the last thing he wanted to be the next few days. “Why?”

She frowned. “Why what?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m on vacation. And my objective is to cut loose and have fun.” He pushed his plate away. “Let’s walk on the beach.”

She frowned. “Uh…”

“We’re on a tropical island. When in Rome…”

“Oh, I’d almost forgotten.” Excitement sparked in her eyes and her face became animated. “Tonight’s a new moon and the next couple of nights you should be able to see a rare meteor shower.” She scooted back her chair and stood before he could assist her out of her seat. “Maybe one more drink wouldn’t hurt.”

Quinn couldn’t help but grin. They stopped at the bar on the way and she ordered another frilly umbrella drink. As she sipped it, he gestured for her to precede him down the path and then placed a guiding palm on the small of her back. Her curvy hips and perfect backside swayed in front of him as he followed. She was no anorexic starlet. Her figure was generous in all the right places, and that dress showed it off just as it should. And she was tall. He liked that he didn’t have to bend his six-foot-two frame to kiss her. And he
was
going to kiss her again.

T
HE WARM PRESSURE OF
Quinn’s hand on her spine made Peyton shiver. He’d changed into a forest-green dress shirt, charcoal slacks and a dark sport coat that enhanced his broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves tight over biceps that definitely got a workout.

Once they came to the end of the stone path, she bent a leg behind her and removed one high heel, then the other.

“Allow me.” He took the shoes from her and they walked down to the shoreline. They turned left and strolled along the coast in a companionable silence. The sand felt heavenly between her toes, and the white foam from the waves glowed iridescent. The warm, salty air wrapped itself around her like a comforting blanket. Maybe Quinn was right. She might as well make use of her surroundings to reduce stress while she was here.

Her search for Mr. Prescott had been a failure this afternoon. Even paying for one night at this place would mean digging into her savings.

But how lucky that this wedding had put her so close to the equator at this particular date in time. She looked up and scanned the sky until she found the Summer Triangle, then pointed out toward the sea. “You see those stars just above the eastern horizon that form a triangle?”

He stepped close and his gaze followed her index finger. “Yes.”

“In June, the three brightest stars are Altair in the constellation of Aquila, Vega in the constellation of Lyra, and Deneb, the brightest star in Cygnus, the swan.” She pointed to each of them as she spoke.

“I never noticed that.” He turned his head and she could feel his eyes on her. He was so near his nose brushed her cheek.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she continued, “If we had a telescope you’d be able to see Cygnus’s long tail stretching along the Milky Way.”

“I’ll ask the staff to get us one.” His warm breath tickled along the skin at her temple.

The stars went out of focus, and she had to concentrate to clear her vision. “What time is it?”

He checked his watch. “A little after seven.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t touching her anywhere, but she felt his presence beside her like a giant jaguar poised to pounce on its prey.

“Why?”

“You won’t be able to view the meteor shower until around 2:00 a.m.”

“I thought meteors didn’t show up until August.”

“Oh, these aren’t the Perseids. These are the Aurigids and they’re extremely rare. They’ve been seen only a few times throughout history. The last time was 1911. And before that, the year 82 B.C.” She turned to face him. He was staring at her lips. “So.” She swallowed. “You…could see a comet that came by during the rein of—” he lowered his head and her gaze fell to his mouth “—Julius Caesar.” Her final words came out a whisper as his lips closed in on hers.

What was he doing? She wasn’t here for romance. She pulled back and located the constellations once more. Why was this gorgeous man focusing his attention on her? He could have any woman in this hotel.

Peyton’s former boyfriend Jason had given more consideration to his arachnids than to her. But then, to be fair, she’d spent the past six months completely wrapped up in translating the Spanish monk’s diary. Jason had run a distant third to sleep. No wonder he’d moved out. Well, that and the fact that he’d been sexting with an assistant in the molecular biology department.

Her throat was dry. She remembered her drink, took out the straw and gulped down the concoction.

“You might want to slow down or you’ll get a brain freeze.”

“What?” She glanced at the blond god standing beside her and a sharp pain burst in her frontal lobe. “Ooowww.” She gripped her temples. Her eyes watered and she squeezed them shut.

“Here, try this.” He slid one hand beneath her hair at the back of her neck and massaged her nape. At the same time he placed his palm over her forehead and gently pressed.

The pain slowly subsided and all she could feel were his hands on her skin, radiating heat, melting her bones and making her body tingle with awareness.

Her eyes still closed, she moaned and every muscle relaxed.

“Better now?” His warm breath tickled her ear as he moved her hair behind her shoulder and touched his lips to her neck.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breathy.

The hand on her forehead slid down to cup her cheek. His thumb caught under her chin and tilted her head as he kissed his way down to her shoulder. Thought ceased. Her world shrank to the sensation of his firm lips burning a path along her neck.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured and nuzzled behind her ear.

Peyton might have moaned again; she wasn’t sure.

“And you smell like…what is that scent?” He inhaled deeply and then nibbled her lobe.

“Uh, it’s just something I picked up.” She had no idea what perfume her sister had sprayed on her this morning. All she could smell was his cologne. It steamed around her from the heat generating between them and the aroma started her veins pulsing. “Quinn.” Her breathing was quivery.

“Hmm?” He nibbled his way along her jaw and over to her mouth. He paused, his lips a millimeter away from hers, and their gazes met. His light brown eyes conveyed his need.

And then she was kissing him, digging her fingers into his scalp, catching them in his dark blond hair. “This is crazy,” she mumbled against his lips.

“It doesn’t feel crazy,” he answered, and deepened the kiss, angling his head. He caught her shoulders and pulled her against him. “Does it?”

Without breaking the kiss she shook her head. “Uh-uh.”

His hand slid down to her waist and then crept up her rib cage, resting just under her breast.

On a gasp she pulled back. “I don’t even know you.”

“I’d like you to know me.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the hotel, and she followed.
Am I really going to do this? Go to bed with a virtual stranger?

Before they stepped into the brighter lights of the terrace, he caught her in his arms, cupped her face and kissed her hard and quick. Yes. She was.

As he led her across the lobby, rational thought returned and she tried to analyze her situation logically. Mr. Prescott was obviously not arriving tonight as she’d been informed. Her department chair’s assistant must have heard it wrong from Prescott’s administrative assistant.

And it made sense. This was Thursday and the wedding wasn’t until Saturday. Why would he fly down this early? He might not even arrive tomorrow.

Until then, perhaps she should get a good night’s sleep.

Once at the elevator, he kissed her again, his mouth opening over hers, his tongue sweeping in as if to claim her.

Then again, she’d had many a good night’s sleep. They were highly overrated.

Before she could process her reaction he’d backed her against the wall inside the elevator and pushed a knee between her legs. A sharp ache right there where his knee nudged her clit. The ache shot straight through her and promptly her knees weakened.

The next chance she had to think straight, she was headed down the hallway to his room. As Quinn dug his key card from his jacket pocket and inserted it in the door, Peyton gave up on common sense. How many opportunities would a nerdy languages professor get in her lifetime for hot, anonymous sex with a Hollywood hunk? This kind of chemistry happened rarely in life. For her? Probably never again.

Then Quinn had the door open and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her into his room and kissed her while he kicked the door shut. Once his lips were on hers again, all thought completely dissolved.

His hands slid around from her waist and gripped her bottom, pressing her against a sizable erection. Her heart seemed to skip a beat.

She broke off the kiss. “Quinn?”

“Yeah?” He was breathing fast. His lips wet in the moonlight that shone in from the balcony. But his grip on her backside loosened and his hands fell to his sides. She knew if she said she’d changed her mind, he might be angry, but he’d let her go. He might be just the man to try something she’d only ever read about.

“Have you ever heard of Tantric sex?”

Q
UINN DIDN’T THINK IT
was possible to be any more turned on than he already was. But something about a woman wearing such thick-lensed glasses uttering the words
Tantric sex
made him have to count to five and think about accounting ledgers.

He needed to get out more.

“Uh, Tantric as in Kama-Sutra-type stuff?”

“Basically. There’s a lot more to Kama Sutra than sexual positions, especially when read in its original Sanskrit, but for the purposes of tonight?” She reached her arms around his neck and kissed him just under his jaw. “I’ve always wanted to see if what I read was true.”

What was it about this woman? He’d been captivated from the first moment. And now she wanted to talk kinky sex positions? He was all in.

He angled his chin to give her mouth easy access to his neck. “I’m game, sweetheart.”

Her hands slid under his jacket, pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms. He let it drop to the floor.

“Wait a minute. Did you just say you read it in the original Sanskrit?”

“Shh.” She covered his lips with a finger. Then unbuttoned his shirt, untucked it from his slacks and placed her palms on his chest. “The first element of Tantric sex is breathing.” She kissed down his throat to his collarbone. “Take a deep breath in. Slowly,” she corrected as he inhaled.

“I’m your willing pupil.” He looked down at her and finger-combed her hair behind her ears so he could see her face.

“Just breathe in slowly and exhale even slower.” Her hands moved down below his rib cage to his diaphragm, and as he exhaled, she pushed in with her thumbs. This pushed more air from his lungs. “Hold that. Don’t try to breathe in yet. Feel how your body is deprived of oxygen. It needs it to live.” Her voice mesmerized him.

Just when he thought he couldn’t
not
breathe in, she said, “Breathe in now, slowly.” She moved her hands down to his belt and unbuckled and unzipped him. He stepped out of his slacks as she pushed him backward to sit on the small sofa.

Being undressed by a woman was damned erotic.

Quinn watched, fascinated, as she calmly reached behind to unzip her dress, tossing it onto the club chair.

He swallowed. This might kill him before she was done. Her bra and panties were sheer black lace and he could see her large nipples beneath the lace.

“Once you’ve mastered your breathing, the ritual kiss is placed on each of the body’s energy points. First the forehead.” She straddled his lap and brought her lips to his forehead. “Then the eyes.” She lightly kissed both his eyes. “The cheeks.” She matched deed to words. “The throat, the breasts.” When her mouth settled over his nipple, his dick strained inside his briefs.

“The lips.” She kissed his lips and licked them. “And the interior of the mouth.” Her tongue swept inside to lap like a cat licking cream.

“Peyton.” He gripped her waist to keep from pushing her down to the cushion and covering her body with his.

“Patience.” She moved down between his legs and kissed his navel and the inside of his thighs. She moved back up and kissed each of his arms, then looked at him. Her eyes smoldered into his. “This may be followed by acts of the mouth on the
yonis
of the woman.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He cupped her butt with both hands, and with her legs wrapped around his waist, carried her to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed.

She fell back and raised her arms above her head.

Quinn stood there a moment taking in the sight of her. Her hips and thighs were curvy, and her breasts were large. With trembling fingers he stripped her panties off, then sank to one knee beside the bed, grabbed her under her butt and pulled her toward his eager mouth.

At his first lick she cried out and jerked her hips. He smiled and dug in with his tongue, suckling at her clit. The more he played with her, the more she moaned and squirmed. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing became ragged. He brought his fingers up to part her and used a thumb to rub her clit. She stiffened and called his name along with a few words in some language that sounded like French.

Grabbing a packet from the drawer, he shoved his briefs off, and moved her farther onto the middle of the mattress. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, throwing it on the floor. Then almost as an afterthought, she took off her glasses and rolled to lay them on the bedside table behind her.

Ahh, her breasts were beautiful. He wanted to hold them, give them the attention they deserved. And he would. But right now he just needed to be inside her. He rolled on protection and entered her in one long thrust.

She gasped and he almost came right then. She was so tight and hot he had to hold still a second.

“Quinn.” She moaned his name and he had to move. Determined to last until he’d made her come again, he pulled out and pushed back in, savoring the sensation of being inside a woman. There was nothing else like it. And he vowed not to go so long without this again.

His weight on one elbow, he cupped her breast and thumbed the tight nipple, watching it crinkle into a tiny bead.

She put her hand over his and encouraged him to squeeze and play with the breast. Her other hand massaged his shoulder, and then her fingers combed through the hair at his nape. Her nails dug in when he took her nipple in his mouth and tightened his lips around it.

Still moving in her, he switched to her other breast, worshipped its soft fullness and drew the nipple into his mouth. “Quinn, faster.”

She gasped when he complied and shifted his hips to change the angle of his thrusts.

Their gazes met and he allowed a sense of smugness into his smile when her eyes widened and she made a funny little sound.

“The lady approves?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and gave a quick little nod, then her face flushed pink and she stiffened beneath him. Oh, yeah. He let go and came with her, burying his nose in her neck and gritting his teeth as his orgasm hit him with the force of a tidal wave. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples and even with his eyes closed the world seemed to spin.