By Invitation Only (16 page)

Mortified, Peyton pulled out of Quinn’s hold, grabbed a towel and covered herself. Then she moved to the seat at the back of the boat.

Quinn narrowed his eyes, a ticked-off glint in them. Glancing at the boatmen, he took a towel and sat beside her. “Did they insult you?”

“No.” She examined her nails and bit a cuticle. “The driver said we should get a room.”

Quinn’s grin returned. “Isn’t that what I was saying?” His grin faded. “I thought after last night…”

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t like making a spectacle of myself in public. It’s uncalled-for.”

“That sounds like something my great-aunt Esther would say.”

“It may sound old-fashioned, but causing a big scene never generates positive results.”

“That bad, huh?”

“What?”

“Your childhood. Sounds like you were never allowed to be a kid.”

Irrational anger bubbled up inside her. “My father did the best he could after my mother died.”

“Hey, I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand but she moved away. “How old were you?”

A ridiculous lump formed in her throat. “Two.”

He whistled. “That’s a long time, just you and your dad.” He took her hand between his and she let him.

“My dad was busy. I—I went to boarding school.”

He grimaced. “Sounds miserable.”

Feeling the need to defend her dad, she shook her head. “Boarding school was great. I had access to a substantial research center and one of the best science curriculums in the country.”

“But didn’t you miss your dad?”

How had they gotten started on this personal subject? And why were all these uncomfortable emotions creeping up after all these years? “He…had important studies. He didn’t need me bugging him.”

“Bugging him? Growing up, I was pissed I didn’t have a dad, but at least I knew my mom wanted me.”

Peyton turned away, squeezed her eyes closed. It’d been her fault her father hadn’t wanted her around. Her fault she’d been sent off to boarding school.
Pull it together, Monahan. Quinn doesn’t want to deal with your messy emotions any more than your father did.

But what had he said about his dad? Something wasn’t right. Wait. She pulled her hand out from in between his. “I thought you said your dad was a colleague of Maynard’s?”

Quinn blinked. “Uh…yeah. He decided he wanted to be a part of my life after his wife died. He didn’t have any other kids.”

The boat pulled up to the dock and the assistant hopped out to tie the rope. Quinn shook the driver’s hand, and the driver wished them both a good day.

Peyton extended her hand.
“Obrigado pela maravilhosa experiência,”
she said, enjoying watching the boatman squirm when he realized she’d understood what he’d said.

Quinn took her hand and helped her step off the boat, then kept holding it as they headed back along the dock to the beach. “That wasn’t Spanish, was it? How many languages do you speak?”

“No, it was Portuguese. And I speak seven fluently, but I can only read and write five. I’m learning Arabic now.”

“Arabic.” He frowned.

Darn it. Why’d she have to have such a big mouth? The guy could probably care less about what language she was learning. And she’d babbled on about her childhood. If he had any doubts about her being a total nerd, she’d just dispelled them.

“What languages do you speak fluently?”

She looked up at him as they entered the hotel and let her hand slip from his. “That’s a boring subject. Why don’t you tell me about what you do?”

He looked away, his gaze following a couple headed down a causeway past a sign that read, Addison-Maynard Wedding Rehearsal and Dinner. “I told you, I refuse to think about business this weekend.” His smile and the fact that he took her hand in his again softened his refusal. “Hungry?”

The change of subject caught her off guard. “Starved.”

“Shall we try one of the restaurants?” He did no more than hold her hand and ask the unspoken with his eyes.

She returned his smile. “Let’s order room service.”

A
FTER SHOWERING IN HER
own room, Peyton dressed in the same T-shirt and jeans she’d worn briefly this morning, then stuffed a clean shirt and undies in her bag. Good thing she’d packed for the whole weekend just in case. And the dress she’d arrived in would do for the wedding.

She traveled up in the elevator and knocked on Quinn’s door. He’d won the “which room” argument because his had a balcony.

Quinn opened the door and Peyton stopped short. A small table had been set in the suite’s large living area with fresh flowers, a candle and gleaming silver dome-covered plates. Quinn moved to stand behind a chair with a look of anticipation.

He’d showered and shaved and as she neared she could smell his unique cologne, an intoxicating blend of sandalwood and…something dark and mysterious.

The scent didn’t match the man she knew. Except, when she thought back to last night, she remembered how intensely he’d made love.

He pulled out the chair and gestured for her to sit. “M’lady?” The dark suit coat and slacks he wore told her he was accustomed to dressing for dinner, even when alone in a hotel room. And the pale lavender dress shirt fit him so well it had to have been tailor-made for him. No tie at least. His open collar emphasized the strong column of his throat. He looked tanned, healthy and way out of her league.

Wiping her hands on her worn jeans, she gingerly sat, resisting the urge to take off her glasses and pull her hair out of the ponytail. “I think I’m way underdressed.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said as he took his seat opposite her.

Beautiful? Maybe this guy was as blind as she was without her glasses. She could rationalize his attraction last night with her hair and makeup all expertly applied by a professional and the designer clothes Suz had chosen to emphasize her less-than-thin figure. But tonight? The man must suppose a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush.

Ah, well, who was she to complain? One more fantastic night with a handsome, charming man who made love to her as though she was the only woman in the world? There’d be no objections from the peanut gallery.

“Let’s eat.” He uncovered plates of filet mignon, shrimp linguini and pizza.

That surprised a chuckle out of her. “Pizza?”

He shrugged, looking endearingly sheepish. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

Since when had anyone ever treated her like this? Like a queen. Her father had tried one Christmas. She’d been seven and her dad had taken her out to dinner. But she’d resented him spending so much time at work and begged him not to go back to the university after the meal. He’d told her not to be so melodramatic and had left her with the nanny.

If only she’d learned her lesson that night she might not have been sent off to boarding school.

Peyton studied the man across from her. He’d been so easygoing all day. But this wasn’t real life. Eventually, messy emotions emerged and who wanted to deal with that?

“Peyton? Where’d you go?”

She shook her head and focused on the plates in front of her with a wide smile. “Sorry, just…a little overwhelmed.”

“Well, how about a tiny bite of everything?” He served her a small portion from each entrée.

It all looked delicious, but Peyton couldn’t taste a thing. As much as she tried to caution herself to resist Quinn’s charms, she found herself laughing at his quick wit, drawn to his vibrant masculinity. Which was not smart. But once she talked to Prescott, she’d be gone, and she’d never see Quinn again, so what was one more night of fantasy?

After they’d finished the meal, he wiped his mouth on a napkin, then came around to pull out her chair. “And now for surprise number two.” As she stood, he bent and kissed the back of her neck.

She shivered. “You’re numbering them?” Just like last night, her voice had gone all breathy.

“Mmm.” His lips kissed down to the neckline of her T-shirt. “Maybe I should make you wait for the second one.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” She turned, cupped his face and used her tongue to slowly, sensually explore his mouth.

He scooped her up, carried her to the bed and laid her on the mattress, following her down and taking control of the kiss. Long, powerful, intense. She’d never been the focus of such concentrated passion.

“Peyton.” He palmed her cheek, then ran his fingers into her hair and pulled out the band holding her ponytail.

Leaning on one elbow, he moved his hand down and slid it under her shirt to cup her satin-covered breast. A low rumble sounded from his throat as his mouth nuzzled between her breasts. He dragged the hem of her shirt up over her other breast to gain access to it.

Her nipples hardened to tight, aching peaks under his skilled mouth and tongue. “I think you have too many clothes on.” She slid his suit coat off his shoulders and he helped her pull his arms out and toss the coat away. Then she palmed his erection and unzipped his slacks.

She tried to free him from his briefs, but when he pulled her T-shirt up over her head she had to raise her arms. He took advantage of her captured arms and unhooked her bra, dragging it and her glasses off along with her shirt. With a low groan he cupped her breasts in his large, warm hands and gently squeezed.

Not to be thwarted, she returned to her mission and clasped his hard length. She suddenly craved to do something she’d never thought she enjoyed. Maneuvering herself to lay with her head at his groin, she took just the tip of him into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue.

Quinn made a growling sound low in his throat and fumbled with the button on his slacks until he could shove his pants and underwear down and off. “I’ll give you thirty hours to stop that.”

Peyton smiled. “The Kama Sutra calls this
Nimitta.
Touching.” Next, she clamped her lips over the shaft. “This is called
Parshvatoddashta.
Biting at the sides.” She raised her head and stroked him several times, then pressed sucking kisses down the length. “
Chumbitaka.
Kissing.”

As she flicked her tongue all over his penis and then tapped it repeatedly on the sensitive glans tip Quinn fell back, his arm covering his eyes. “Peyton. You’re killing me.”

“That is
Parimrshtaka.
Striking at the tip.”

“No kidding,” he choked out.

She glanced back. His chest rose and fell in harsh breaths. He still wore his shirt, and the sight of him naked from the waist down stirred something deep inside her. He looked sexy and vulnerable and completely masculine all at the same time.

Seized by a wild passion, she took him deep into her mouth, pulled on him and sucked hard. “
Amrachushita.
Sucking a mango.” She took him deeper, enjoying the silky flesh moving over the rigid shaft, drawing him out slowly and pumping him with her hand.

He moaned and rose up. “Okay, that’s enough.” Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her.

“But there’s one last step,” she protested. “I work upon your lingam with my lips and tongue until you spend. That is
Sangara.
” She gave him an evil grin. “Swallowed whole.”

His raised one brow. “That ain’t gonna happen.” He wrestled her jeans and underwear off, pushed her thighs apart and lowered his mouth to her clit.

She gasped and stilled, lost in the feel of his tongue licking her and delving deep. But she still had access to him. She took him deep, but couldn’t do the job justice with the distraction he was creating between her legs. Her hips rolled unconsciously as he brought her ever closer to completion.

But just as she felt ready, he lifted his head.

She whimpered her disapproval.

“I want to be in you when you come.”

She wanted that, too, and held out her arms.

He tugged off his shirt, grabbed a packet from the table and moved over her, fitting himself between her thighs. “Peyton.” The way he said her name, so tenderly. There was wonder in his eyes as he ran the back of his hand down her cheek and then finger-combed her hair away from her eyes.

Her throat tightened trying to hold in emotions she’d never felt before. How could she have such strong feelings for someone she’d known barely twenty-four hours? Logic told her she couldn’t. She was simply caught up in the moment.

He lowered his head and kissed her, entering her at the same time. The thrust of his tongue matched the rhythm he set with his hips and the dual sensation gave
eroticism
new meaning.

Within a few strokes she was again at the edge of that cliff. And like this afternoon when they went parasailing, when he whispered in her ear, “Come with me,” she did. Her body tightened, her stomach dropped, the world around her reeled. She clung to his back as he thrust one last time and then stiffened above her, a vein in his temple straining.

As he hung his head beside hers and nosed into her neck, she ran a hand down his back and up again, tracing his long spine. His breathing still labored, he took her mouth in a kiss that felt different. It was gentle and filled with some unnamed emotion. The fingers of her other hand ran through his hair as her feelings swirled in confusion.

His lips left hers slowly and he glanced at her with a troubled look in his eyes before he rolled away and padded to the bathroom. After a few minutes in the shower, a tall, white blur emerged. Peyton reached for her glasses.

Quinn was wearing a thick, white robe and carried a matching one for her. “Now for surprise number two.” He extended the robe to her.

“You mean that wasn’t your surprise?” She nodded toward the bed with a suggestive smile as he helped her slip on the robe and tie the belt.

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and she felt his chin on the top of her head. “You didn’t see that coming, huh?”

She giggled—giggled!—and turned in his arms. “Yeah, I guess I kind of did.” She flattened her palms on his chest. “Surprise me, Smith.”

He smiled down at her, took her hand and led her out to the balcony. Front and center stood a large telescope mounted on a tripod. She gasped and moved to look into the eyepiece, automatically finding a star and adjusting the lens for a clearer picture.

“I told you I’d get you one,” he murmured into her ear.

Peyton’s senses filled with the scent of Quinn, of warm sea air brushing her skin, of the sound of waves crashing to shore, of glittering stars in the black sky. Her chest constricted against the emotion welling up inside her. “Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his attention to the stars. “Now we can really see that meteor shower.” He glanced at his bare left wrist. “In about…three hours. What
will
we do to pass the time?” He grinned.

She giggled. Again. She never giggled. It was so…unprofessor-like. Something unruly children did. And then fathers sent them out of the room. Wow. Talk about an aha moment. Had she purposely kept herself from doing fun and silly things? Never allowing herself to laugh or enjoy anything too much? Or get angry, either. She didn’t allow herself to feel anything too deeply. Including passion. But oh, this night was made for passion.

Turning in his arms, she clasped her hands around his neck. “I think we can find something to do.” His lips had almost touched hers when she pulled back. “Do you play Scrabble?”

He frowned. “What?”

She smirked. “Gotcha.” Her mouth found his.

He deepened the kiss, tightening his hold around her waist. She began untying his belt, but he stepped back. “I almost forgot.”

Peyton barely stifled a whine of disappointment. “What?” He had to go somewhere?

“Surprise number three.”

Ridiculous relief washed over her as he wiggled his brows and led her by the hand into the suite. Who was this needy woman in her body? It seemed that once she’d decided to stop checking her emotions at the security gate, all kinds of baggage was pouring out. “There’s more?”

With a nod, Quinn disappeared into the bedroom and came back carrying a long plastic garment bag. It was from the hotel’s clothing boutique.

“What’d you do?” After scrutinizing him a moment, she opened the bag and pulled out the most gorgeous dress Peyton had ever seen. It was a midnight-blue silk organza strapless gown with beading around an empire waist. Her mouth hung open.

“Do you like it? It’s for the wedding tomorrow.”

Her mind reeled. He’d bought her a dress? “Why did you do this?”

“You need something to wear.”

“Well, I was just going to wear the dress I had on yesterday.”

He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “This is Holly Addison’s wedding we’re talking about. I overheard two women in the surf shop while you were trying on bathing suits. Holly is thinking of mandating that all guests must wear red, white or blue in honor of her groom’s state flag.”

“She has? Can she do that?”

He shrugged. “If you feel uncomfortable I’ll have it re turned.”

“No, no. I just…” She searched the inside seams for a price tag. “I’d like to reimburse you.” Even if it took her the other half of a year’s salary.

“No way.” He claimed the dress from her and draped it across the sofa, then grasped her upper arms. “I shouldn’t have bought it. It was stupid and impulsive and—I just feel responsible for you having to attend this wedding.”

“But why should you?”

He stared at her with a strange expression, as if she’d asked why the earth was round. But then he huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Forget it.” He kissed her, deep and intense, his tongue playing with hers. He untied her robe and spent the next few hours making slow, purposeful love to her until she couldn’t remember or care what they’d been discussing.

Q
UINN PUMPED HIS HIPS
in one last hard thrust. Peyton’s beautiful breasts bounced in his palms as she threw her head back and cried out. He closed his eyes and drew in a long, ragged breath as she collapsed on top of him.

Emotions overwhelmed him as he caressed her back, running his hands down to squeeze her fleshy butt. He was still hard inside her, could still feel tiny spasms of her orgasm as she straddled his hips.