by Bella Andre
When they got out of the van, her brother smiled at Lola but merely bared his teeth at Duncan.
“Turner,” she said, “this is my friend Duncan. Duncan, this is my totally overbearing brother.” She scowled at Turner, her voice slightly grudging as she added, “Thanks for coming to let us into the museum. If you’ll give me the code to open and lock up, you won’t need to stay.”
Turner shook his head. “I’ve got no problem staying until you two leave.”
“You’re acting like we’re going to have sex all over the building.” Her eyes suddenly lit with mischief. “On second thought, maybe that isn’t such a bad idea.”
While it was clear to Duncan that she was only trying to wind her brother up in retaliation for his overprotectiveness, Turner looked ready for a fight. “You’d better not do anything in there with my sister,” he growled at Duncan.
Lola whacked Turner on the shoulder. “Stop it! I was kidding. And if you so much as set one foot inside the museum before we’re done, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” She took Duncan’s hand and led him away.
Though Turner didn’t look at all happy about it, he stayed where he was. Duncan tried not to laugh or even smile. He got the sense neither sibling would appreciate it. At the same time, it was heartening to see how natural their dynamic was. Even when one person was irritated and the other was concerned, no one said anything hurtful or wounding.
The same had not been true of Duncan and his brother. On the contrary, Alastair was a master at ramming a knife into your back when you were least expecting it. It didn’t matter whether it was family or business—winning was all that mattered. Along with never being made to look like a fool.
And still, Duncan hadn’t been able to see through his brother’s lies. Hadn’t been able to separate family loyalty from the crimes taking place right under his nose.
“Sorry about Turner,” Lola said.
Her voice brought Duncan back to the present, away from his own family and the dark past that never seemed far behind, no matter how long and hard he tried to outrun it.
“Don’t apologize for anything,” he said. “Your brother is just looking out for you.”
“Despite his behavior tonight, he really is a nice guy,” she agreed. “Like I said before, he’s the most easygoing of all my brothers.”
Duncan’s eyebrows went up. “Note to self—wear armor when meeting your other brothers.”
She laughed, the sound incredibly sweet. “I can’t wait for you to meet them all. Soon, hopefully.”
Had Turner not still been watching them with laser vision from the parking lot, observing their every movement, every point of contact, Duncan would have kissed her, now that he was confident that it was also what she wanted. Instead, he said, “I’d like to meet them all soon, too. I have several business matters I need to deal with urgently in Boston this week.” Namely, discussing the possibility of having his new hire, Anita, take over some of his day-to-day duties so that he could spend more time in Bar Harbor. “But after that, I’m suddenly finding myself inspired to clear my schedule.”
She looked like he’d just given her the greatest possible gift. “Is there any chance you could come back by Friday? That’s when we have our weekly family dinner at my parents’ house, and then everyone can meet you.”
“Friday will work.” He’d make sure of it.
She beamed at him, her smile the brightest ray of sunshine he’d ever seen. One that staggered him with its beauty.
“Knowing you’ll be back soon will help me be a little less sad about you leaving in the morning.” She looked a little startled by what she’d just said. “I meant it when I said I’m not normally so impulsive. Normally, I would never blurt out any of these things to you, but I can’t help myself. Not when this, you, us—it all seems so right.” She moved deeper into his arms, curving hers up around his neck. “It might sound crazy, but I can already see you sitting beside me at my parents’ dining table laughing with everyone.” She took his breath away all over again as she stared up into his eyes. “And you know the craziest thing of all? I’m not even the tiniest bit scared about giving my heart to you.”
It didn’t matter anymore that her brother was still watching them. Hell, it wouldn’t have mattered if a tornado was thundering toward them.
He had to kiss her.
Duncan put his hands on either side of Lola’s face, drinking her in for a moment before finally covering her mouth with his.
She tasted like lemons, and sunshine, and heat, and passion.
She made every nerve, every cell, every fiber in his body come to life.
She made him want, and need, and desire.
And she made him believe. Believe in the possibility of a beautiful future. Believe in love after he’d lost all faith in it.
Her kiss infused him with such joy. Joy he never wanted to end. Joy he never wanted to lose.
Joy that he silently vowed he would never, ever betray. No matter what.
“Wow,” she breathed as they both finally came up for air.
Their foreheads still touching, he smiled into her eyes and echoed, “Wow.” And then he had to say, “I can’t believe your brother hasn’t come over here to slug me yet.”
Still looking a little dazed from his kiss, she nodded. “We should probably go inside before he changes his mind.” She drew his arm even tighter around her waist. “I’m never wobbly on my heels, but I think I’d better hold on extra tight to you right now to make sure I stay steady.”
He liked that he made her legs a little shaky. She made his shaky too.
The building she took him into was old, and he could see and smell the years, the history, the past in every wood plank on the floor, in the walls, in the timbers of the roof. The windows were old, wavy glass, and there was a chimney in one corner.
“This maritime museum was once a fisherman’s house. And when he was old enough to retire, he started drawing nautical maps.”
Duncan had temporarily forgotten that he had come to Bar Harbor for any other reason than to be with Lola. His passion for her had taken over everything else. But as she led him toward a glass case and he looked at the antique map, he was infused with a deep appreciation for the art made by the fisherman who had once lived here.
“Amazing.” The lines on the map weren’t perfect. The fisherman hadn’t been a trained artist, by any means. But a deep and abiding love for the sea was in every stroke of his pen. It was clear that the fisherman understood the heart of a nautical map in a way a non-sailor would never be able to. “I could study this map for hours.”
Lola was equally rapt. “Just looking at it makes me feel like I know the man who lived here.”
He turned to her. “I was struck the same way by you and your fabric designs. Who you are, what you believe, what matters to you, how you look at life—all of those things are in what you’ve created.”
Lola’s lips were on his before he could take his next breath, tasting him, teasing him, driving him absolutely wild. “I don’t want to stop,” she said in a husky voice several minutes later. “I just want to keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. But if I do that, I’m pretty sure we won’t stop at just kissing…and then my brother really will kill you. So I’m going to force myself to put a moratorium on it until we’re out of sight of his beady little eyes.” She let go of Duncan’s hand and pointed toward a glass case on the far left wall. “You go look at that map.” She nodded toward a display case on the right wall. “I’ll go look at the one on the other side of the room.” Her eyes lit with renewed fire. “Later, we’ll compare notes.” She made certain to infuse the words compare notes with so much heat he couldn’t possibly misunderstand her intent.
They laughed as they moved apart. Duncan liked everything about Lola. Not only that her kisses burned through every inch of him, and that she was a vision of beauty, but that she made him laugh.
He had never hoped to have a relationship like this, had never reall
y seen a truly great couple in action before, certainly not with his parents or any of the couples in his Boston circle.
Who would have thought that coming to Bar Harbor for a one-day drawing class would mean having all of his dreams come true?
Even the ones he hadn’t known to dream.
CHAPTER SIX
Lola felt like she was living in a dream. One she never wanted to wake from.
They didn’t speak as they left the museum and drove back toward town, her hand held tightly in his. She loved sitting beside Duncan, holding his hand, knowing the breathtaking kisses they’d shared in the museum were about to turn into so much more.
Lola never slept with a guy on the first date. Truth was, she hadn’t slept with many men at all. The problem was that guys looked at her and expected every inch of her to be perfect, without a lump or a bump in sight. Even worse, they expected her to live up to their ultimate fantasy.
But she was only human. A normal, flesh-and-blood woman. She wasn’t perfect. Anything but. Plus, none of the men she’d been with had measured up to her fantasies.
Lola knew without a doubt, though, that Duncan would be different.
She pulled up beside his car where he’d parked it outside her studio, but before he got out of her van to follow her back to her house, he kissed her again, another slow, sensuous kiss that promised all her sizzling-hot fantasies would soon become reality.
After he got out of her vehicle and into his, she worked to catch her breath as she led the way toward her cottage, only two blocks away. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so full of anticipation.
Lola had walked, biked, and driven these tree-lined streets her entire life. She’d been happy before. She’d felt excited. But she’d never felt like this, like every inch of her skin was buzzing, like she could barely keep her heart from beating its way out of her chest.
Even better, she didn’t have to wonder if Duncan felt the same way. Not when every sign pointed to their being of one mind. One heart. And soon to be one in the sexiest way possible…
Lola parked outside her cottage, with Duncan taking the space behind her. “Even if you hadn’t told me which home was yours,” he said as he got out of his rental car, “I could have picked it out. Your spirit is in every inch of it.”
“I bought it three years ago, once I felt confident enough with my business to take on a mortgage. My family helped me paint it, although they joked that I unearthed colors never before seen by the naked eye.”
“It’s bright, and fun, and perfect for you, Lola.”
She agreed. She loved her cottage, loved her garden, and got along great with her neighbors. Everything about her life in Bar Harbor suited her perfectly, and she had never wanted to live anywhere else. Along with the colorful wooden façade painted in a riot of magentas and sea blues and yellows, the garden was ripe and luscious with flowers and fruit trees. In the setting sun, it looked more beautiful than ever.
Lola wasn’t a natural gardener, not like her brother Hudson, a landscape architect. But she loved flowers, loved trees, loved growing fruits and vegetables. She loved to go into the garden on a quiet morning or evening to sip a cup of tea and watch the birds and the butterflies and the ladybugs, and breathe in the sea air.
She couldn’t wait to share those moments—all her moments—with Duncan.
“Come inside.” She tugged him up the brick pathway, which Turner had helped her lay, then up the stairs of her painted porch and into the house, which, like most locals, she rarely locked.
“Your door is unlocked.” He frowned. “Is someone already here?”
“It’s very safe in Bar Harbor. And whenever I do decide to lock the door, I always manage to lose my key, so I end up having to bust in through a window anyway.” She gestured to the formfitting pencil skirt of her dress. “Shimmying through a window wearing this isn’t easy.” She dropped her bag onto the entryway table, then said, “Why don’t I open a bottle of wine? We can take it into the living room. And then we can finally compare notes.” She’d never felt quite as sexy as she did walking into the kitchen, knowing his eyes were drinking her in with every step she took. “Merlot okay?”
But instead of answering from the entryway, his voice came from just beside her ear. “It’s perfect.”
As he wrapped his arms around her, it was wonderful to relax into his chest, closing her eyes, breathing him in. It took her far longer than usual to get the cork out of the bottle and pour the wine.
Turning slowly in his arms, she handed him a glass. “To tonight and all the wonders yet to be discovered.”
“To you, Lola Sullivan, the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”
They clinked, sipped…and then wine was forgotten, their glasses left on the kitchen counter as they couldn’t wait another second to unleash their passion.
Passion that had been building from the first moment they had set eyes on each other.
Passion that couldn’t be denied.
Passion that Lola knew was going to fulfill every sexy fantasy she’d ever had, while also filling her heart.
Duncan’s mouth found hers again, tasting, taking, giving. His kiss was everything she wanted, somehow both gentle and rough at the same time. Raw and desperate and breathless.
And so, so, so good.
And then he was raining kisses over her cheekbones, claiming her mouth again before moving south over her chin and then her neck. She arched against him as his mouth and hands sent unparalleled pleasure through her.
He ran his hands down the length of her body—from curve to hollow and back again—as he kissed her. His touch brought every inch of her to sensual life. She felt teased, tempted, as he deliberately moved so slowly that she was constantly on the verge of crying out for him to rip off her clothes and take her right then and there against the kitchen cabinets.
At last, he approached her breasts—moving even slower now, so slowly that she thought he might never get there. Her heart was beating halfway out of her chest, pounding against his hands, and she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t manage to inhale any oxygen at all. Not until he…
She gasped as he finally curved his large hands over her breasts. “Duncan.” She’d never felt like this before, never been so incredibly glad for her abundant curves. Not until this very moment when he touched her this way.
He captured her lips again, their kiss even more desperate now. His eyes were burning with such heat his gaze nearly seared her as he said, “I need to feel you, Lola. I need to see you. All of you.”
“Yes.” She had never begged a man for anything before. Even when she was eighteen and still hadn’t come fully into her own, she’d understood that it would be akin to giving up her power. But she knew instinctively that she didn’t need to hold the word back with Duncan. Not when he would never, ever use her need for him against her. “Please.”
He carried her over to the couch, but instead of laying her down on it, he put her on her feet, letting her curves slide against his hard heat until she was standing again.
Her heels had barely made contact with the floor when, without saying a word, he put his hands on her hips and turned her so that she was facing away from him.
His silent command of her body rode the edge of dominant. It was so damned sexy that her knees nearly went out beneath her.
She knew he’d never do anything to hurt her, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to treat her like porcelain either. She’d never been able to find that perfect middle ground where she could give in to her innate sensuality without being reduced to a sex object. But with Duncan, she could finally be sexy without worrying about how he’d see her afterward.
With Duncan, she could finally be herself and open her heart all the way.
And if she hadn’t been one hundred percent open with him earlier when they were talking about their pasts? If she hadn’t yet confessed her most secret fears? Well, she told herself, there would be plenty of time to get to all of that. Soon.
But no
t tonight. Not when she didn’t want to focus on anything except Duncan’s kisses and caresses and the growly sound he made deep in his throat as his lips skittered over the bared skin between her neck and shoulder.
Her dress was perfectly fitted to her figure, and she’d felt comfortable in it all day. But now the fabric felt as though it was scratching her overly sensitive skin, and with her breasts on the verge of overflowing the bodice, she was desperate for Duncan to take it off.
And as he ran his hands up from her waist to the top of the zipper, she felt as though he was marking every inch of her as his.
Oh yes, she was all his.
Lola held her breath as she waited for him to drag the zipper down. Instead, he continued to tease her with his left hand, sliding it around to her front so that he could pull her against him.
As her hips nestled against his erection, her breath came out in little pants. “Please,” she begged again.
“Tell me what you want.” His words were hot against her skin, his touch even hotter as he finally drew the zipper down. “Tell me what you need.”
“You.”
Duncan turned her to face him again and captured her mouth with his. She melted even more into him, so lost in his kiss that she didn’t realize he’d started to slide her bodice from her shoulders until he broke away from her mouth so that he could strip it away completely.
Before he could tease her any more than he already had, she reached for the clasp at the front of her bra and undid it, shrugging it off a second later. Taking his hands in hers, she drew them over her bare breasts.
Oh God. It felt so good. He felt so good. The heat of his hands, the slightly callused skin cupping and stroking her flesh, the ragged sound of his breath as he took everything she wanted so badly to give him.
She was this close to tipping over the edge when he stopped and said, “I don’t deserve you.”
She didn’t know why he was saying that. All she knew was that he was wrong. “You do. And I deserve you too.”