Lori Wilde - His Final Seduction

“You weren’t this prickly when you were thirteen,” he said, shifting his arm away from her breasts. He hadn’t been angling for an accidental boob graze, but now that she’d brought it up, it was all he could think about. He was so aware of her. The air seemed to vibrate between them.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“What?”

“I see you staring at my breasts.”

“And may I say what nice breasts they are?”

“Go on.” She waved at him with both hands. “Shoo. Go back to your seat.”

“You’re kicking me out of your row?”

“I am.”

“Heartless.” He shook his head, gave her his best grin.

“Go.” She pointed like he was a bad dog.

What had he done wrong? Quint wasn’t accustomed to being shown the door. Women just naturally liked him and he liked them.

“You’re serious?”

“Why do I get the feeling women rarely say no to you?”

“’Cause I know how to make love like Casanova?” He canted his head, tried his best to look adorable.

She snorted, rolled her eyes. “I’ve learned that guys who talk a good game usually do so in order to compensate for something.” Then she very pointedly glanced at his crotch.

“Low blow. You really know how to hurt a guy, Jorgie.”

“I bet you drive a sports car.”

“I do.”

“Let me guess, a heartbreaker red Corvette.”

“How did you know?”

“Overcompensating.”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

“Do you have gigantic speakers on your music system?”

“Huh?”

“The music system in your house. Do you have gigantic speakers?”

“I’m scared to answer that.”

“I’ll take it as a yes.”

“Now I’m beginning to get a clue as to why your boyfriend bailed. You have no idea how to have fun.” The minute he said it, Quint could have bitten off his tongue as the teasing light evaporated from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he amended. “That was out of line. I didn’t mean it. You just had me on the ropes with the overcompensating thing and I came up swinging.”

“It’s okay,” she said more cheerfully than he expected. “You’re right. Brian left me for that very reason, because I didn’t know how to relax and have fun. That’s why I’m here.”

A rush of sympathy passed through him. “You’re going to be okay, Jorgie,” he said. “Everyone gets their heart broken.”

“Even you?”

“Well.” He chuckled. “I’ve managed to escape that fate so far, but most everyone else goes through it.”

“So you’re absolutely no help at all as a shoulder to cry on.”

“Maybe not.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But I could provide the comic relief.”

“Maybe later,” she said, sliding closed the shade over the window portal. “Now if you’ll excuse you, I’m going to take a nap.”

All righty, then. Quint knew when he’d been summarily dismissed.

THANK HEAVENS she’d gotten rid of him. Relief leaked from Jorgie in a long-held sigh. The last thing she needed right now was her schoolgirl crush going all Casanova on her.

What do you mean? She could hear Avery’s voice in her head. That’s exactly what you need. A fine fling with someone you know and trust. Why were you being so prickly with him?

Why? Because the man scared the pants off her. She’d had him tucked away in her mental keepsakes drawer, along with all her other teenage heartthrob fantasies. In her mind he’d been as unobtainable as a rock star and suddenly, poof, he’d been sitting in the seat beside her.

Another troublesome aspect was the fact that thirteen years later, he looked better than ever. And he’d been flirting with her. Quint. The most handsome man she knew. Flirting with her, a woman whose looks were average at best.

You’re only average-looking because you don’t make much of an effort. Wear more makeup and jewelry, spend more money on your haircut, and get some sexy clothes.

“Get out of my head, Avery,” she grumbled under her breath. “You took off and left me, now leave.”

“Excuse me?” said the flight attendant, leaning over the empty seat beside her that still smelled of Quint’s outdoorsy cologne. “Did you need something?”

“No, nothing, thanks.” Embarrassed at being caught talking to herself, Jorgie ducked her head.

Okay, clearly she had to make a decision. She and Quint were going to be at the same resort for two weeks. And obviously—although for the life of her, she didn’t know why—he seemed attracted to her. So, did she just go with it? Expand her sexual horizons, fulfill her youthful fantasies, or did she let the past stay buried and keep away from him?

Once upon a time, it would have been a no-brainer. She knew she wasn’t Quint’s type. He liked fast cars and even faster women. By his own admission, he’d never had his heart broken; by the process of elimination that made him the heartbreaker.

Unless…whispered Avery’s voice.

Unless what?

You take full of advantage of him and this vacation. Let him be your love tutor, your rebound guy. That should be right up his alley.

She had to admit that the idea made perfect sense. It was an excellent solution to her post-Brian doldrums.

Movies are made for the voyeurs in us all

—Make Love Like a Movie Star

AVERY BODEL GOT OFF the plane in L.A. feeling freer than she’d felt in, well…forever.

Honestly, she loved Jorgie like a sister, but the girl was so stuck in her ways. Sometimes it was as if she were hanging out with an anchor. She did feel a little badly for having ditched her at the airport the way she did, but it was for Jorgie’s own good. It was high time she started having adventures of her own without using Avery as a crutch.

She stood around with the rest of the passengers at the private airstrip, waiting for her baggage to be unloaded from the Eros jet, when she saw him step off the plane. He must have boarded earlier than she had and been sitting in the back of the plane, because she certainly didn’t remember ever seeing the guy before and he was not someone you could miss.

If this had been a movie, this would be the point where the director cued the sensual music and brightened the spotlight to focus solely on the devilishly broody-looking man stepping off the plane.

Everything about him was dark. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark look on his face.

Avery’s heart thumped. Dude, now here was a man.

He wore faded black jeans with a hole in the right knee, a black Nirvana T-shirt that had been washed one too many times. He had on scuffed, scarred military boots and the beard stubble at his jaw declared that he hadn’t bothered with a razor in days. Some men might come across as scruffy and unkempt in such attire, but this guy simply sizzled.

Avery felt an instant stirring in her womb. This one would make a fine baby daddy. Immediately, she slapped the snooze button on her biological clock.

The last thing she wanted was anything—or anyone—tying her down. You couldn’t be footloose with a diaper bag hanging off your shoulder and a kid on your hip. She was only twenty-six. She had a lot more living to do before she settled down. As the oldest of five children, with her baby sister thirteen years younger, she knew all too well how kids consumed your life.

She gave herself a mental shake, but she couldn’t stop staring at the guy. He possessed a keep-your-distance aura that made her itch to crowd his personal space. He stepped from her view behind a large man and it was only when she felt her shoulders sag that she realized how tense she’d been.

The attendants set suitcases on the tarmac and everyone gathered around to claim their luggage. Avery and Mr. Broody Loner reached for the same black travel bag at the same time. She got there first, but his hand quickly closed over hers.