Reluctantly she picked up her pace, her flip-flops slapping against the concrete with each step. “It’s a good thing the man you threatened to shoot didn’t know you were bluffing.”
“I was bluffing?”
That devastating smile was back. He could get anything he wanted with that smile, she thought. She was ready to throw herself at him now, and she imagined every other woman he met felt the same way. Hmm . . . she didn’t know how she felt about that. Picturing him with any other woman didn’t sit well. That unpleasant thought led to another. Danielle. What was the story with her?
“Why are you glaring at me?” he asked as they made their way across the back lot and headed to a side door of the hotel.
She shook her head. “What did the technician have to say?”
Finn explained what the findings were and ended with, “When I find the rifle that was used, the bullet will match it.”
Peyton handed Finn the key to get inside the hotel. What little staff there was had gone home hours ago. It was eerily quiet inside. The soft lighting above the baseboards of the hallway led to the lobby and the elevators. Another key unlocked the door to the pool. The smell of chlorine was faint but noticeable. Finn flipped the lock so that no one else could enter, then turned on the underwater lights, and a shimmering iridescent glow filled the dome.
Peyton watched him strip down to his swim trunks, the muscles across his shoulders rippling as he stretched his arms over his head, his skin dappled gold by the lights. He sat on the side of the pool and waited for her to join him, but she wasn’t in any hurry. She turned away from him and removed her shorts, carefully folding them and placing them on the chair next to her robe. Slowly she lifted her T-shirt over her head and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, hoping the action was provocative.
Trying to be sexy took concentration, she decided. Unfortunately, it was a wasted effort because, when she turned around, Finn was in the water already swimming laps. Maybe she would get to sit on the side and dangle her feet after all. The thought cheered her. She dug through the pockets of the robe, found her hair tie, and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She checked her phone messages next. By the time she was finished with that task, she was sure Finn would have done several laps.
Finn pulled himself up and out of the pool and stood with his legs braced apart waiting for Peyton to turn around. He couldn’t take his eyes off her gorgeous backside. He wondered how she’d feel if he told her it aroused the hell out of him. When she finally turned to face him his knees nearly buckled. Her breasts were full and round, and her hips gently flared above her perfect thighs and long amazing legs. She was slender and fit, and yet she was soft everywhere. Damn, he wanted her.
Peyton slipped her phone into the pocket of the robe and looked over her shoulder to find Finn standing on the pool deck watching her. The intensity in his expression and the dark look in his eyes told her the bikini had done its job. She slowly walked over to him, stopped long enough to run her fingertips across his chest, and then continued on. He came up behind her, lifted her into his arms, and jumped into the water. When they came up, her arms were wrapped around his neck, holding tight, and her body was pressed against his.
“Show me what you can do.” His order was gruff and sexy as hell.
She kissed the side of his neck, then tugged on his earlobe with her teeth. Her tongue brushed against his skin.
Finn tensed in reaction and instinctively increased his hold on her. “What the hell, Peyton?”
“I’m showing you what I can do,” she whispered.
“I meant swimming,” he said as he pulled on her ponytail to bring her face up so that his mouth could cover hers. His hands moved down her back to her hips and he lifted her up to wrap her legs around him. Her pelvis rubbed against his groin as he made love to her with his mouth. For that moment in time she belonged to him.
Panting for breath, he finally lifted his head. “What else have you got?”
The challenge was there in his eyes. “Plenty,” she whispered.
Her hands moved down his chest, her fingers first circling his nipples, then gliding lower, stroking and caressing. He inhaled sharply when her fingers slid under the waistband of his trunks.
Suddenly she pushed away from him. “But we’re here to swim.” Laughing, she took off across the pool.
Finn stood there watching her. Long, even strokes, the right amount of kick, her head turning just enough to take in air. Her technique was every bit as good as it used to be. She’d come a long way since the summer all those years ago when he’d gotten stuck teaching her.
He remembered the hell she’d put her parents through. They were desperate for their girls to learn how to swim—to this day, her mother cried whenever she talked about the near drowning. Lucy and Ivy were quick learners. Peyton, on the other hand, screamed bloody murder whenever she got close to the water. Her parents tried everything. Group lessons at the Y, individual lessons at the country club—Peyton, stubborn to the core and terrified of the water, was having none of it. She liked wearing her swimsuit. She just wasn’t going to get it wet.
The two fathers—his and Peyton’s—came up with the brilliant idea that Finn should teach her. His reaction at the time was not positive. Just what a fourteen-year-old teenager wanted, a girl—what was she then? Five? Six?—screaming nonstop to keep from going into the pool. He had tried to get out of giving the lessons, but her father used Finn’s own words to get him to agree, reminding him that he had insisted that Peyton learn how to swim for her own safety. Reluctantly, Finn had acquiesced.
Having been warned about her fear of the pool, Finn showed up for her first lesson prepared for battle, and the strangest thing happened. She didn’t scream at all. She put her arms around his neck and willingly let him take her into the water. She was too young to have such absolute trust, but she did, and it took only three or four weeks before he had her swimming like a fish.
As he now stood beside the hotel pool watching her glide through the water, he was pleased to see that she hadn’t forgotten what he had taught her. She swam toward him, and when she flipped to begin another lap, he dove in and swam alongside her.
Peyton didn’t have as much stamina as Finn. She wore out in ten minutes and got out of the pool, content to sit on the side while he continued.
Her thoughts were scattered. There was so much to worry about she didn’t know where to start. Since she had arrived at Bishop’s Cove she’d done nothing but put out fires. She hadn’t had time to think about the restaurant she wanted to remodel. The building was inside the Cove but had been closed for over a year now. With the right chef, a killer menu, and beautiful decor, it could become the place to go. As soon as the other renovations were running smoothly, she could focus on it.
The new bullet hole in her car was another worry. According to Finn, the shooter couldn’t be identified . . . at least, not yet. If Drew Albertson was behind it, she hoped he was now convinced she wasn’t a threat to him and had gone home prepared to forget about her.
And that brought her to her biggest worry of all, the recording and getting it into the right hands. She needed to talk to Finn about Atlanta. As soon as Mimi texted Erik’s itinerary, Peyton would make her own flight reservation. Hopefully, it would be a one-day trip. The recording was a weight on her shoulders, and the sooner she gave it to Erik, the better.
Apprehension was gnawing at her. What if Erik didn’t do anything about Drew? What if he blew it off? Then what? After her experience in Dalton, it was nearly impossible to stay optimistic, but she was determined to try. She wanted to believe that Erik would do the right thing.
Reaching up, she pulled the rubber band from her ponytail, ran her fingers through the tangled mess, and dried it with a towel. Would Finn want to go with her to Atlanta? There wouldn’t be any reason for him to, she thought. If Drew believed she wasn’t going to make trouble for him,
she wouldn’t be in any danger.
Finn was suddenly standing in front of her. He rose out of the water like a mythical god, the soft light from the pool casting an ethereal glow around him. She could barely hold a thought when he was this close to her.
He pushed her thighs apart, put his arms around her waist, and lifted her into the water. She wrapped her legs around his hips and put her hands on his shoulders.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
She began to massage the back of his neck. “When you came up out of the water, you reminded me of Poseidon. Without the pitchfork, of course.”
“Poseidon carried a trident, not a pitchfork,” he corrected.
Their smiles faded as they stared at each other, and the air was suddenly heavy with the tension that crackled between them.
He stared at her mouth. “I don’t have any control when I’m around you.” He didn’t sound happy about the admission.
“And that’s bad?”
“Yeah,” he growled. His open mouth covered hers, his tongue sliding in and out, pushing against hers. There was nothing gentle about his kiss. It was searing and demanding. When at last he lifted his head, both of them had trouble catching their breath.
“Your lips are so soft,” he whispered. His thumb gently outlined her mouth. “I love the way you taste.”
She shivered in his arms, warmth rippling through her body with his sweet words. He lowered his head and kissed her again, a long, intense kiss that held nothing back. She melted against him. Had he wanted to, he could have taken her then and there. She would have given him anything for another kiss.
Instead, he pulled her out of the pool and put the robe around her shoulders.
Finn didn’t say a word to her on the walk back to the condo. He seemed lost in thought.
As soon as the door closed behind them, she headed to her bathroom. “I’m taking a shower to get the chlorine out of my hair.”
She slipped out of her swimsuit and had just turned on the water and adjusted it to the perfect warmth when he knocked on the door. Holding the towel in front of her, she called out, “It’s not locked. What do you want? Towels are in the linen closet, and soap . . .” She opened the door just wide enough to peer around it. “Did you want something?”
He pushed the door aside and walked toward her. “I want you.”
He didn’t seem to need her agreement. His hands moved to the back of her neck and he jerked her to him, his mouth covering hers, sealing any protest.
She didn’t remember dropping the towel or Finn removing his trunks as he backed her into the shower. The water flowed over their bodies and they melded into one. He reached for the soap and turned her around, lathering her back, then her derriere, and all the way down her calves to her ankles. Turning to face him, he then proceeded to wash every inch of her front. He spent an inordinate amount of time on her breasts, and as soon as the soap was rinsed off, his mouth replaced his hands. He kissed each breast until the nipple was taut, straining. He took one into his mouth and began to suck while he stroked the other. His day’s growth of whiskers against her sensitive skin made her cry out, the pleasure was so intense.
He knelt before her, and her legs began to tremble with anticipation. His mouth was hot against her skin as he kissed her stomach, teasing her navel with his tongue. His hands gripped her thighs, and he pushed them apart so he could have better access to her heat. And then his mouth was there between her thighs, kissing her and driving her wild. He teased the sensitive nub with his tongue until she was begging for release, and then his fingers slid inside, pushing her over the edge, forcing her orgasm. Gripping his shoulders, she came apart against him. Her legs buckled, but he wouldn’t let her fall.
Finn wrapped her in his arms and stood holding her tight against him while he fought the urge to slam into her. She was so hot, wet, tight. If he didn’t have her soon, he thought he would explode.
It took Peyton long minutes to recover. She buried her face in his neck, sighing with pleasure.
“Did you like that?” he asked, rubbing against her.
“You couldn’t tell?” she whispered shyly.
His voice was raspy when he answered. “Yeah, I could tell. I love the way you respond to me. It’s so honest and raw.”
She picked up the soap. “Now it’s my turn,” she said.
And she washed every inch of his beautiful body. She spent an inordinate amount of time on his thighs, and as soon as he was rinsed off, she knelt before him and drove him out of his mind.
It was the longest shower either of them had ever had. And the most satisfying.
______
An hour later Peyton was sitting in the middle of the bed with her laptop, looking for flights to Atlanta. Finn was in the living room talking to Ronan on the phone. At one point she heard Finn raise his voice, and she thought the conversation had become heated, but then she heard him laughing.
A few minutes later Finn ended his phone call and went to Peyton’s bedroom to talk to her. He stopped in the doorway and stood there staring at her. She wore a cotton nightgown that buttoned in the front. Her hair had dried and hung past her shoulders. When she moved, the strands swayed like a veil across her face. He wanted to run his fingers through her silky hair, to pull her to him and make love to her. He wanted to be inside her again, to feel her surrounding him, squeezing him. He needed her heat.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She glanced up from the screen. “Looking at flights to Atlanta Saturday. Want to hear the plan?”
Barefoot and wearing nothing but boxers that rode low on his hips, he stretched out on her bed next to her. He punched a pillow behind his head and said, “Sure. Tell me the plan.”
“Comfy?” Peyton asked.
“Getting there,” he replied.
After she repeated everything Mimi had told her over the phone, she said, “Erik has been routed through Atlanta, and he has a three-hour layover. I’ll talk to him there and make him listen to the recording. Then it’s up to him. I’ll understand if you can’t go with me,” she added.
“You’re not going without me.”
She was surprised by the jolt of relief she felt. “Yes, okay, but you don’t expect any trouble, do you? No one in Dalton, except Mimi, knows I’m going to talk to Erik.”
“I also want to talk to him. I want to hear what he plans to do. I’m going to nail Parsons,” he added, his tone hard. “I don’t care how long it takes. Maybe Erik can help with that.”
“How?”
“Help find the weapons Parsons is using. And, Peyton, the danger comes after they kick Drew and his wife to the curb. They won’t go away quietly.”
“If they kick them out.”
“Have you told Lucy your plan?”
She shook her head. “I will tomorrow.” She powered off her laptop and put it on the table next to her. “She’s not going to like it.” Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, she rested against the headboard and closed her eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to do this,” she whispered. Turning her head to look at him, she asked, “Want to try to talk me out of it?”
“No.”
“Tell me about Danielle.”
The question jarred him. “Why are you asking?”
“I’m changing the subject. Tell me about Danielle.”
“What about her?”
“You were going to ask her to marry you three years ago, then you walked away. So why, after all this time, is she calling you?”
“About a year ago we ran into each other at a party, and she asked me to go to dinner with her. I thought, sure, why not?”
“So you went out.”
“Yes.”
Geez, like pulling molars, getting information out of him. “And?”
“She wanted to get back together. I didn’t.”
?
??What made you walk away three years ago?”
“She had sex with another man. I couldn’t get past it, didn’t want to,” he admitted. “The trust was gone.”
“More than once?”
He gave her a look. “Does that matter?”
“No.”
“She had sex with him many times while I was out of town.”
“Once was too much.”
Finn remembered how much her betrayal had hurt. He’d be damned if he’d ever go down that road again. “Are we finished talking about this?”
“Yes. I do want to ask you something else . . . but not about Danielle,” she rushed to add when he frowned so intently.
“Okay, go ahead.”
“If I hadn’t called you about the bullet in the roof of my car, would you have called me?”
“I didn’t know about the bullet until you called me.”
“You know what I’m asking. Would I have ever heard from you again?”
He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to lie. His answer was abrupt. “No.”
TWENTY-ONE
Okay, then. Now she knew.
Peyton was crushed by his answer but vowed he wouldn’t know it. He had been so emphatic, and that was enough for her. She didn’t want or need to hear his reasons why. She didn’t say a word, just nodded to let him know she’d heard him, then got out of bed, picked up her laptop, and left the room.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To plug in my laptop. Battery’s low.” Peyton was pleased her voice didn’t sound strained. Determined to be an adult about this, she kept her temper under control. If he didn’t want to see her again, that was fine with her. Except it wasn’t. They had just gotten squeaky clean together in the shower, for Pete’s sake. Her emotions were going crazy. She was angry, frustrated, and feeling horribly vulnerable. She had screwed up again. She never should have kissed him, never should have gone to bed with him, and never should have called him. She sighed. Lesson learned.
“Is that your phone ringing or mine?” he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.