Paradise Nights. Kelly Hunter
‘Did you just whimper?’ he said, eyeing her closely. ‘I thought I heard someone whimper.’
‘No whimpering here.’ Much. ‘What can I get you to drink? Water, wine?’ She gestured towards the glass of white wine already on the bench. ‘I’m already set.’ She didn’t wait for an answer, just headed for the fridge. She thought it best to keep busy, keep that whimpering to an absolute minimum. Water, wine, she grabbed both and set them in front of him. ‘Help yourself.’
He did, reaching for a couple of tumblers on the shelf nearby before pouring water for them both. He snagged another glass, a wineglass this time, and filled that too, his fingers long and lean around the neck of the bottle … fingers that looked as if they could deliver anything a woman could possibly want, from a feather-light stroke to firm and knowing pressure in all the right places.
‘There it goes again,’ he said. ‘That sound.’
‘Could be the tabby cat hereabouts. She’s very noisy.’
Pete looked at the curled and sleeping cat over in the corner of the kitchen, her head firmly tucked beneath one paw. ‘You mean that cat?’
‘Yes.’ She said it with an utterly straight face and Pete’s admiration for her rose immeasurably. ‘That cat.’
They ate from the picnic table in the courtyard, with the cottage nestled into the hillside behind them and the sea spread out before them like a promise.
‘So how many brothers do you have?’ Pete asked between bites of truly divine roast chicken. Chicken like this could quite conceivably make a man change his mind on the issue of not wanting a woman to come home to each night.
Serena held up two fingers and he smiled. Two brothers and an overprotective cousin wasn’t so bad.
‘I saw that smile,’ she said darkly. ‘And if you figure you can handle them you’re wrong. They’re half Greek. And if you’re talking extended family—and with my family you should—I also have two brothers-in-law, a father, three uncles, and half a dozen male cousins my age or older. Nico is the most liberal-minded of the lot.’
‘Ah.’ That was quite a list of protective males. Doubtless she’d driven them insane during her teenage years. ‘Bet your first date went well.’
‘You have no idea,’ she muttered. ‘I thought he’d be all right. He had a very cool car and a bad-boy reputation. A smile that promised heaven. They were waiting for him out in the front yard when he came to pick me up. My father and my uncle.’ Her eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. ‘They’d brought home a fish from the morning’s catch and were gutting it when he pulled up. With ten inch boning knives.’
‘Sounds reasonable,’ said Pete. ‘Although I can see how you might consider the knives a touch melodramatic.’
‘It was a six-foot shark.’
‘Oh.’ He felt a smile coming on.
‘And don’t you dare laugh!’
‘No, ma’am. But I am impressed.’
‘We didn’t even get to the cinema. The poor boy took me to a burger drive-through, fed me hot chips and a sundae, and had me home within half an hour. He’s probably still running.’
‘Just for the record, I’d have bought you a burger as well.’ He topped up her wineglass, reached for another slice of bread. ‘I have three brothers, a father, and one sister. Hallie’s the youngest.’
‘No mother?’
‘Nope. She died when I was a kid. My father took it hard, pulled back. My brothers and I took over the raising of Hallie. You’d like her. You could swap stories. My youngest brother could get downright creative when it came to deterring her more persistent suitors. He works for Interpol these days. He’d have loved a shark as a prop.’
‘Are you sure you don’t have any Greek ancestry in you?’
‘Not a drop.’
‘What’s your position on trust and honour?’
‘As in Nico trusting me not to hit on you?’
She nodded.
‘It’s damn near killing me.’
Her smile sliced through him, wicked with challenge. ‘But you are sticking to it.’
‘Barely.’ The meal had more than satisfied Pete’s appetite for food, and dusk was warming up the crowd for the coming of night. The air lay heavy with the scent of jasmine and he was self-aware enough to know that if he didn’t leave soon his honour wouldn’t be worth a drachma. ‘Close your eyes,’ he told her. ‘Think back to that bad boy with his own car and a smile like a promise.’
‘Why?’ But she did as he asked, her back to the table, her elbows resting behind her, and her head tilted back a fraction as if to catch the moonlight.
‘Work with me here,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve been to the cinema and you’re on your way home. The car stereo’s blaring, the windows are down, the wind is in your hair, and your bad boy has forgotten all about your father’s shark-carving skills. He’s young and reckless, and so are you.’
Her lips curved. ‘And then?’
‘He pulls up outside your front yard.’
‘Does he stop the engine?’
‘No. He’s not insane. He’s planning on a quick getaway.’
Her eyes were still closed. ‘Where’s the shark?’
‘Your father and uncle are hauling the last of it into the freezer. The timing’s perfect.’
‘For what?’ she whispered.
‘This.’ He brushed his lips over hers, a fleeting touch, nothing more, and pulled away. He planned to end it then, to say goodnight and get the hell out of temptation’s way, but her eyes were still closed and before he knew it his lips were on hers again, questing, cajoling, because this time, this time he wanted a response.
He got one.
Serena had played his game because she wanted to. Because she was curious as to what this man with his come to bed eyes and go to hell grin could bring to an evening, a moment, a kiss.
He brought plenty.
A taste so wild and delicious she shuddered. A mouth so firm and knowing she responded instinctively, following his lead with lips and with tongue in a dance as old as time. She wanted more, slid her hand to his cheek, to the nape of his neck in search of it, taking the kiss deeper as she sought the recklessness in him, that piece of him that courted danger, revelled in it, and came back for more. She found it.
And the kiss turned wild.
He murmured something, a deep-chested rumble that sounded like a protest but felt like surrender, and took her under.
Her mind had clouded over by the time the kiss ended, the rapid pulsing of her blood at odds with the languid slide of her hand from around his neck. She leaned back, elbows on the table, and watched as he struggled to surface, clawing his way out of the kiss in much the same way she had, and not bothering to hide how hard he found it.
She liked that about him. She liked it a lot.
‘Damn but he’s gonna break some hearts, kissing like that,’ she murmured.
‘So are you.’
She made a small hum of pleasure. ‘Tell him to kiss me again.’
‘No. If he does he’ll be lost and he doesn’t want that. Besides, the porch light has just come on and it’s way past time to be leaving.’
‘Does he come back?’
‘Try keeping him away. It’s your first kiss,