Laura Wright - The Ashtons - Paige, Grant & Trace - The Highest Bidder / Savour the Seduction / Name Your Price

“I don’t like to bite the pit,” she told him, leaning back comfortably on the blanket they’d laid out when they began their leisurely picnic more than an hour earlier. “I’m a very careful person.”

“Deliberate,” he corrected, noticing the way the sun dappled through the thick olive tree branches, highlighting the lovely angles of her face. He never knew what “dewy” skin was until he saw hers in the sunlight. Creamy, pure, flawless. “If you were careful, you wouldn’t be here. You’re just deliberate.”

She teethed around the pit some more and locked her gaze on him. Her ever-changing eyes had taken on an emerald hue in the shadows of the olive grove tucked away on a hillside beneath Auberge du Soleil. It matched the dark-green sweater she wore.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” she said with a slightly uncomfortable laugh. “What do you mean, if I were careful, I wouldn’t be here? Are you dangerous?”

“I could be.” He grinned and inched closer to her, liking the way their lounging positions lined up their bodies. Really liking the way her jeans fit over her narrow hips and slender legs.

He’d picked a very secluded area of the grounds, but knew that hotel guests could still invade their private spot at any moment. So he forced himself to focus on her face and not her sweet little body. But that was just as appealing, he realized.

“ Walker thinks you’re dangerous,” she told him. “But I think you’re…”

He looked at her expectantly, loving the way her gaze drank him up. “Yeah?”

“Cute. You’re cute, I’ll give you that.”

He laughed. “Great. A cute computer guy. Don’t you have anything nice to say about me?”

“You’re smart.”

“So are you.”

She shrugged off that compliment. “Tell that to my family. Early college graduation, business school—none of it matters. I’m still the baby.”

He leaned on his elbows and studied her. “Maybe you should strike out on your own. Leave the family business and show them what you’re capable of when you’re not under their watchful eyes.”

“I plan on it.” She plucked another olive from the container the concierge had packed for him. “But not until all of this unpleasant family business is resolved. Megan needs my help, and I have an important job to do with my family.”

“Which is?”

“I keep the peace.” Her straight white teeth closed over the olive, jolting a sudden arousal in him. “I love these,” she said with her eyes half-closed. “Better than grapes, in my opinion.”

He laughed, moving a little closer. “That kind of talk could cause war in the wine-making family you are so determined to keep at peace.”

She smiled and worked on the olive, further torturing him when she sucked a little juice from it. She was so much more relaxed than last night, he thought. As though she’d stopped fighting his attention and decided to enjoy it. And he was just the opposite—not relaxed at all.

The evening with her had left him hard and achy, sweating in the middle of the night and waking up with images of big green eyes. Or were they blue? Either way, his desire hadn’t diminished since their evening together.

He couldn’t pinpoint the precise characteristic of Paige that got to him. There were so many. He found her subtly beautiful, disarmingly intelligent and just hesitant enough to make him want to ease her against the blanket, wrap his legs around her and let her feel what she did to him.

He glanced around the rambling grounds of Auberge, the tips of the French-style rooftop visible over the lush greenery.

His suite was just a two-minute walk from where they were. Could he get her there? Could he seduce this delectable lady and give her the same pleasure he craved?

Of course he could. Seduction was never difficult for him. And he hadn’t wanted a woman like this in so long. Since his divorce from Brooke he’d just gone through the motions, taking the ones who threw themselves at him. Lately not even those women interested him.

He forced his thoughts back to the conversation. “So, what would you do if you didn’t work for Ashton Wineries?” he asked, breaking a piece of crusty bread and holding it out to her.

She shook her head, not quite finished with the calamata. “I’d like to run my own business.”

He took a bite of the bread and brushed away the snowfall of flaky crumbs that fluttered on the blanket. “What kind?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m very good with numbers and accounting,” she looked at him and grinned. “How dull is that?”

“Nothing about you is dull, Paige.” The comment won him a sweet flush on her cheeks and a glint of disbelief in her eyes.

“What’s really important to me,” she continued, dropping her gaze back to the basket between them, “is that I’m on my own. Without the guidance of big brothers and big sisters and big cousins.”

He laughed softly. “Walker is one big cousin to deal with.”

“He means well,” she said defensively. “He feels he owes my father a huge debt of gratitude for taking him and his sister, Charlotte, into our home and raising them as a seamless part of our family.”

“And that means he watches over you.” Like a hawk, no doubt. A sliver of guilt wrapped around his gut for a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t seduce her. Maybe he should…wait.

His body rebelled at the thought.

“I expect and appreciate his watchfulness, don’t get me wrong.” She wiped her hand on a linen napkin and dabbed the corners of her mouth. “And Megan’s, and Trace’s. And I love the family business, but it would be nice to do something away from the Ashtons. To be my own woman.”

“And a fine woman she is,” he said slowly, moving the basket that separated them.

Her eyes flashed in warning. “You’re flirting again.”

“Can’t resist,” he admitted. “You bring out the flirt in me.”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t bring out the flirt in anyone.”

“Where do you get this misinformed opinion of yourself?” he asked, surprised by her statement. “Don’t you have any idea how attractive you are?”

“I’m not ugly,” she agreed, but not wholeheartedly. “I’m just not one of those uninhibited, brash, bouncy women who enter duels of witty banter with men.”

“I like that,” he admitted, reaching over to touch the smooth skin of her hand. “I like you.” Her eyes looked doubtful again. “You don’t believe me.”

“I want to believe you. I’m just a little…intimidated by you.” She gestured around the secluded grove. “By this.”

“An Ashton? Intimidated?” He threaded his fingers through hers. “I don’t buy it for a minute.”

She eased herself closer to him. Yes, this was going to be easy. And fun. He leaned toward her, close enough to feel the electrical charges singing in the air between them.

Unwinding his fingers from hers, he trailed a path up her arm, toward the soft flesh of her neck and throat. When he lightly touched the skin just under her ear, her eyelids fluttered. He grazed along the edge of her delicate jaw, then traced the outline of her lips.

He felt her breath catch.

“You like that,” he whispered.

She almost nodded, opening her eyes enough to capture his gaze. “I like you.” The echo of his own admission was difficult for her, he could tell.

“You’re such a flirt, Paige Ashton.”

She started to laugh at that, but he leaned over and covered her mouth with his. As their lips met, her laugh stuttered into a moan that caught in her throat. As she opened to him, he tasted the delicious, tangy flavor of Greek olives on her tongue.

He tunneled his hand into her hair, holding her head with a strong, confident grip. She kissed him back, meeting his mouth with matching passion.