“Are you kidding? I’m very committed.” He winked at Sierra. “Committed to giving every pretty woman who crosses my path afull helping of this goodness.” He swept an arm up and down his body.
Sierra giggled. And turned away. Lucien had flirted with her, in a friendly way, all night. It had been obvious from the startthat it was just his style. He’d probably flirt with the potted ficus in the corner if a botanist told him it was female.
But she didn’t want to flirt with him. Not even though he was hot. And rich. Charming. Easy to be with. Quick to fill in aconversational gap or make a quip.
Nope. It turned out that while she liked drop-dead hot, she didn’t need charming and easy. Broody and difficult appeared tobe what Sierra wanted on her man-menu. Flynn was by no means easy but that just meant when he did open up, offer a comment,share a smile, it mattered.
Sierra looked down at her phone, which was hot on the back because she hadn’t stopped texting. Once she’d told Flynn wherethe party was, he’d demanded pictures of the secret inner sanctum. There might have been a little talk about wanting to seewhere women hung out in just towels and a need to see her in a towel.
In fact, she wanted to read that again. While Elena carried the gift bags over to Mollie, Sierra scrolled up in the messagelist.
F: If you’re sitting around in just a towel, is there a window where I can come catch a peek?
S: There’s a whole wall of windows, overlooking the third hole and the ocean. But I don’t want you arrested for sneaking around,peering in windows.
F: If it meant seeing you in just a towel, it’d be worth it.
Flynn gave off an attitude of “I’ll do what I want” and Sierra had no doubt that if he decided there was a strong chance tosee her almost naked, he’d hightail it over.
Which was flattering in the extreme because he was . . . so sexy. Movie star sexy. Tall, dark, and more than a little mysterious.Older, self-assured, not caring what anyone thought, which was hot all by itself. He could get any woman in town without evencrooking a finger. Just one of those half smiles of his was all it would take. Sierra was nowhere close to his league.
And yet he’d kissed her two nights ago. Over and over and over again. It had been amazing. And no, that was not the champagne talking. Flynn’s kisses melted her from the inside out. They were drugging. Literally. They’d completely madeher forget the pain in her ankle.
He’d kissed her yesterday, too. Showed up to drive her to work and kissed her right there on the tiny porch. Kissed her untilher toes curled in her sneakers and her knees bobbled out from under her. Only Flynn’s quick reflexes had kept her upright.And then they’d talked the whole way to the Gorse. Like friends, but . . . almost like a real couple?
To keep him out of trouble, Sierra texted him the truth. We’re all wearing bathrobes that come down to our ankles. Probably not worth it.
F: Can we find a way to make the just-a-towel thing happen?
Sexting. That’s what they were doing. And it absolutely delighted her. This man who was so serious all of the time was lettingher inside his private thoughts, where it was considerably steamier than she’d expected. Who knew that texting about doingthings to each other was almost, almost as fun as the real deal?
S: I’m open to suggestions. What did you have in mind?
F: You. Water dripping down your skin that I get to lick off. Untucking the towel so I can get at your breasts. Licking my wayaround your nipples until they stand up and beg for me to bite them.
That’s the point when Lucien had started passing out cake. Fifteen minutes later, Sierra still hadn’t fully cooled down fromthe images Flynn had planted in her head.
And she had no idea how to respond. Should she offer to show up on his doorstep in a towel? Not that she had the guts to actuallyfollow through on an offer like that. Because nothing that happened with Flynn was planned. Things just kept . . . happening.With him driving her to and from work, fixing her meals, texting back and forth . . . it kind of felt like they’d accidentallystarted dating.
How could she do that to him?
How could she get involved with him when she was in so much trouble?
Flynn Maguire, though, was all kinds of irresistible. Sierra hadn’t done anything for herself—aside from fleeing a criminalsituation—in months. No splurges. No movies, no hanging out with friends, no casual afternoon at the mall where she couldmake an impulse purchase of a pretty pair of earrings. She’d stayed under the radar. Stayed hidden.
Dating Flynn would not be a smart move. It would open her up to the risk of blurting out the truth. It would open her up tofalling in love, when she might have to run away again at a moment’s notice.
Yet Sierra couldn’t stop herself from wanting him. Not when he was so good to her. Not with his wickedly teasing streak. Hissly wit. The man was building her a bookcase, for heaven’s sake.
Or maybe she was misreading the signs. The very sexy signs that could just be them speeding down the road to a casual fling.Which meant no entanglement. No—or less—worry about lying to him about who she really was. Very low risk, and a potentiallysky-high reward.
Men were all for casual flings, right? It was only her emotions at stake?
Karen rapped a spoon against a crystal champagne glass to get everyone’s attention. A stack of silver bangles slid down herwrist to clatter against the glass. “I’m all about celebrating Mollie, but I also want to get to that paraffin dip for myhands. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Mollie picked up a flat manila envelope. And then she gasped, her mouth opening in delight.
Sierra hadn’t known
