‘True enough,’ he purred, the heavy-lidded look far too suggestive.
‘But I certainly had a quality-control problem in my teens,’ she added, steering them away from yet more forbidden territory. ‘These days I make a point of not giving in to every passing fancy. Despite all evidence to the contrary last Friday night.’
He sent her a curious smile. ‘I sure hope you’re not suggesting I’m only a passing fancy, sugar?’
She drew in a breath. He’d given her the opening she needed. ‘Actually, you’re going to have to be,’ she murmured, surprised at how depressed the thought made her feel. ‘As your newly appointed web designer and social media strategist, I don’t think we can afford a replay of Friday night. It will be too distracting.’
‘Uh-huh?’ he said, the curious smile twitching. He didn’t seem annoyed by her comment, which was a good thing. Not so goo
d was the fact that he seemed to find it fairly amusing. ‘You ever try multitasking?’ he asked, the glint in his eye deliberately provocative.
‘I’m afraid so. And unfortunately I’m exceptionally bad at it.’
* * *
Damn, how could he have forgotten how forthright she was? She talked about sex without an ounce of calculation or subterfuge or fake modesty, in that clean crisp smoky British accent that arrowed straight into his crotch. After years spent handling women who figured sex could be bartered for love and marriage and happy ever after, Gina Carrington’s attitude was refreshingly straightforward—and one heck of a turn-on.
Not so much of a turn-on, though, was what she was saying through those luscious lips of hers. Lips he’d wanted to feast on as soon as he’d seen her sitting in the mill’s reception area looking hot and determined and aloof.
Swallowing down the groan that was threatening to rumble out of his throat, he kept his hands on the steering wheel and his gaze on the road ahead—and mulled over the problem.
What had seemed like a fairly simply seduction at the mill had become a mite more complicated. Gina’s professional scruples weren’t something he’d given a whole heck of a lot of thought to before offering her the commission. And now he’d seen her work, he probably should have. She was good, even better than he’d expected—the strategies she’d roughed together already exactly what they’d been looking for. Economical, well-directed and expertly designed with an originality that would make people sit up and take notice.
‘I’m not gonna pretend that isn’t a disappointment,’ he said, keeping the lazy drawl in place as he played for time. ‘But that’s your prerogative.’
Just as it would be his prerogative to change her mind.
He rolled his shoulders, edging his foot off the gas pedal as the car bumped over a set of railroad tracks, and drifted into the urban sprawl of strip malls and tree-lined neighbourhoods that marked the edge of town.
Scruples or no scruples, Gina was dead right about one thing: good sex was distracting—it was supposed to be. And when they had sex it had the potential to be nothing short of combustible.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye, the determined tilt of her chin almost as beguiling as the tremble in her plump bottom lip.
Well, hell.
Gina might not be as wild and untamed as she had been as a teenager, but she still had the same volatile libido. That tiny lip tremor told him louder than words she didn’t want to say no any more than he wanted to hear it. Adrenaline charged into his system, making heat pool in his lap.
While Gina might not be much good at multitasking, he happened to be a master at it. The heat surged and crested. Once upon a time, Gina had done him the favour of showing him that he couldn’t deny his own libido. Why not use the skills he’d acquired in the years since to teach her a valuable lesson in return—that great sex, while distracting, didn’t have to be a disaster if you knew how to handle the fall-out?
He pressed his foot onto the gas, to surge past an old truck, and felt his confidence soar at the thought of the game of cat and mouse that awaited them. There would be time enough over the next few days to enjoy Gina’s company, work closely together on her marketing plans—and lead her slowly but surely into temptation.
Once upon a time, she’d broken down all his inhibitions by being bold and sexy—and flirting outrageously with him—and in so doing had set him on the road to where he was now. And okay, he wasn’t gonna lie, it had been a tough road during the difficult years of his marriage, rocky and painful and far far too long, but the journey had been worth it, and the destination liberating. Discovering that while he might well be his father’s son, driven by the same weaknesses of the flesh, he didn’t have to make the same mistakes.
So why not show Gina that she could have her cake and eat it too?
Because he had a feeling Gina’s objections now had as much to do with the girl she’d been back then—who had sat in her tiny bed and accepted all the blame for his infidelity with agonising flippancy—as it did to do with the career woman she was now and her professional scruples.
Why not show Gina that them enjoying themselves together didn’t have to screw up their professional relationship—because in the end, however distracting, however combustible they were together, it would only be sex. And that there really wasn’t any blame to be apportioned for what had happened ten years ago any more—because as he had eventually discovered when he’d come to accept his true nature, it had been inevitable.
He took the exit off I-16 and headed into the city, towards the Historic District and home.
‘With that in mind,’ Gina piped up — the proprietary tone telling him she thought his silence had signalled acquiescence to her plans, ‘I should probably check into a hotel during my stay.’
I don’t think so, sugar.
He erased the itch of frustration and pasted on an easy smile. ‘Now why would you do that?’
‘Well, I...’ she began, her tone not quite so sure.