Danger Zone

by Dee J. Adams

  “Stop what?”

  “Doggin’ me.” She pulled at the elastic band holding her ponytail and her hair fell around her shoulders in a shiny wave. Talk about temptation. He could picture that hair trailing down his chest as she moved her soft lips along his body…down…down…

  Swallowing back the excessive saliva in his mouth, Quinn struggled to find the thread of conversation. “I could ask you something similar along those lines. Why do you keep running?”

  “I’m not running.”

  “Sure you are. For some reason, you’re ignoring the sparks between us. At least I—”

  “There aren’t any sparks between us,” she countered indignantly. She was either blind, stupid or in denial. Since she obviously was not blind and probably couldn’t have hung onto her job for ten years if she was stupid, he picked denial.

  “Of course there are. I’ll prove it to you.”

  The wary look on her face said it all. She didn’t trust him an inch. Not that he could blame her. He’d hit on her using the same line he’d used on Julie. He still couldn’t believe he’d repeated it. Maybe he was just trying to find the smooth operator who’d disappeared six months ago. That sure as hell hadn’t happened. But the way she’d teased him about it had made her stand out. So far, everything about her made her different. Now, folding her arms across her chest, she drilled him with a hard green gaze. “How would you do that?”

  Yes! “Three and a half touches.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Quinn lifted his hands, palms out in front of him. “I’m only going to use the tips of my fingers and I only get to touch skin I see.”

  Her brows snapped together.

  “Hold on. Hear me out. You’re wearing jeans and a short sleeve crewneck shirt.” Unfortunately, her top and bottoms met at the edges and her belly button stayed hidden. “The only thing I have is your arms and above your neck.” Not a whole lot to work with, but he had confidence in their chemistry.

  “And you think I’m going to let you touch me?”

  “I won’t hurt you,” he promised. Time to up the stakes…maybe throw out a challenge. “The only reason I can think of that you don’t want me to do this is because you know I’m right.”

  “Of course you’re not right.”

  He loved the fierce dark green her eyes turned when she got adamant. He bet he could get them that color a number of different ways. All of them in bed. “Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” he said. “I dare you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Men,” she mumbled. “Like I care about a dare.” Ellie opened her trailer door and stepped up and inside. Her hair hung down to the waistband of her jeans.

  “Okay. I challenge you then,” Quinn said on her heels. “I get three and a half touches. If they don’t faze you, we don’t go out, but if even one touch gets to you. I win and you go out with me.”

  She faced him, her head cocked to the side, her gaze telling him he was nuts. “You’ve got to be kidding. Why don’t you find Julie? I’m sure she’d be all over your little touch game.”

  “Because I don’t want Julie.” He said the words very distinctly, letting each one fall so she understood him very clearly. Standing on the top step, he grinned. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll get to you? Afraid I’ll be right and prove we have chemistry?”

  “We don’t have chemistry.”

  His brows lifted a fraction. “Then you’ve got nothing to lose, do you?”

  Way to go, Ellie. She’d sure as hell walked right into that one. Quinn had baited her perfectly and she had no way out. Of course, she could slam the door in his face. But that seemed exceptionally rude. It wasn’t as though he could really win this contest. And he didn’t have that many places to touch. “Fine. Three touches. Only on skin you can see. Go.”

  He laughed and the relaxed playboy in him seemed to take over. “It’s three and a half touches,” he clarified.

  “What’s with the half?”

  “Sometimes the half isn’t necessary.”

  So he’d done this before. Which meant she was just another in a long line of women. But hadn’t she expected that? Still, it sort of…made her mad. And also made resisting him easier.

  “Then why bother with it?”

  “It’s my prerogative.” He studied her for a second and his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? A little nervous?”

  She leveled him with her best bored stare. “No.” But she was. Only the skin showing. If she kept telling herself that, she’d be fine. All of the important parts were covered so he couldn’t do that much damage.

  Victory already lurked in his eyes. Man, this guy was cocky. And so damn cute.

  Crap. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking? She wanted a guy for the long haul. All the handsome ones wanted was a quick screw on the spread.

  “Put your arm out,” he ordered quietly. “Bend it at the elbow. Like this.” He showed her what he meant. Then with his left hand, he gently supported her right arm while keeping it bent in front of her with his thumb just above the bend in her elbow, the other fingers behind her arm.

  “Now what?”

  “Now…I touch you.” His words were so soft, so confident, that a wave of uncertainty swelled over her. His light gray eyes burned into hers. A stupid flutter of anticipation washed through her. She pushed it back with iron will.

  Never taking his gaze from hers, Quinn moved his right thumb down, so slowly, so tenderly, to the hollow of her elbow. It wouldn’t have been that bad except that he stayed in the same place and circled maddeningly slow. Around and around the rough pad of his thumb circled the sensitive area. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, the hair stood up on her arms and nape.

  The tiniest of grins curved his lips, but he didn’t stop eye contact…as if he knew without seeing what effect he had on her. His thumb continued down her arm. Slowly, inch by inch. All the way to her wrist where he circled again.

  Ellie swallowed. And blinked. Damn it. Steeling herself against the sensations hitting her body, she clenched her jaw and worked to even out her breathing.

  Almost done. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. One down, two and a—

  Quinn’s thumb traveled to the middle of her palm and Ellie nearly jumped out of her skin. Her thumb grazed the inside of his hand and the urge to touch him shot through her like a cannon.

  Thankfully, he pulled away. “That was one,” he breathed.

  Mayday! Red Alert! She was in serious trouble.

  “Next is number two.” His devastating right hand moved toward her chin, but he stopped and reconsidered. His fingers grazed her hairline and moved through her hair, against her scalp. Again, so slowly.

  His pupils dilated, his breathing grew heavier. The man was definitely affected. If the bet had been the other way around, she would’ve won.

  But…maybe not. Because the tingles running up and down her spine and radiating through her limbs all met at the same spot between her legs. Not a good sign. She desperately fought the urge to lean into his palm, feel more of his heat against her head. It was getting tougher to control her heartbeat and her breath came uneven.

  “That was number two.” His low voice sent her heart pounding harder.

  “One more,” she said. Only the words barely came out.

  “One and a half,” he corrected. “This is the half.” With one hand still against her scalp, he lifted her chin a fraction. Using the pad of his thumb, he traced her bottom lip. From the middle to the end. Not a long way, but enough to send her through the roof. Enough to want to suck his thumb into her mouth and taste him.

  Make him beg.

  All this time, they kept eye contact. He never once looked down at the path his thumb had taken. But now, his intense gaze focused on her mouth before moving back to her eyes. He bent closer, his fingers still under her chin, his lips closing the gap with hers. “There’s just one more,” he whispered and moved even closer, his mouth just a fraction from hers, his breath warm over her lips.

  Ellie coul
d barely keep her eyes open. Desire left her lids heavy, her breath lodged somewhere in her throat. Somehow, someway, a fraction of her brain still worked. “I thought you only got to touch me with the pads of your fingers,” she murmured.

  “I lied.”

  His lips brushed hers and Ellie’s whole system went into meltdown. She should’ve been mad, but she really wanted to laugh. Really wanted to forget everything she’d ever thought about the man and jump him here and now in her trailer.

  This was nothing like she expected. Not a blatant sexual assault, but the most tender and gentle kiss she’d ever experienced. So simple. Sweet. Absolutely innocent in the taking. Those lethal lips continued to caress hers. Smoothing across just as maddeningly slow as his thumb had done.

  At some point, she’d grabbed his wrists. Not to push him away, but to keep him steady. Keep him connected to her. Not that he seemed to be going anywhere. And still he kissed her. Just lips. Softly. A nibble, a caress. Brushing so sweetly against her mouth she didn’t want it to end.

  Ellie had no idea how long they stayed that way and Quinn pulled back a fraction, his lips still dangerously close to hers.

  “I win,” he whispered. And kissed her again.

  Chapter Five

  Early that evening, Quinn headed into the hotel lobby toward the elevators. He licked his lips and still tasted Ellie. She’d all but branded herself on his brain. He could go back in time and remember that morning with absolute clarity. She’d tasted like the strong peppermint Altoids that the script supervisor kept on her lectern and he couldn’t get the sweetness out of his head. He’d never forget the softness of her lips or the way she’d grabbed on to his wrists to hold him steady when he’d kissed her.

  He’d been replaying the moment in his head all day. Right up until she’d shoved him away during the second kiss. The blatant sexual hunger he’d seen in her glazed eyes had nearly undone him. At least until it turned into annoyance.

  “You cheated.” She brought her fingers to her mouth like there might’ve been damage done.

  Yeah, okay. He’d cheated a little. But she’d been worth it. “I couldn’t seem to stop myself.” He leaned forward and she eased back. Quinn cleared his throat and backed toward the door. One step at a time. “I did win,” he told her. “I’ll pick you up tonight at seven.”

  Ellie’s eyes blazed open wide. “No, you won’t,” she huffed. “Maybe on Friday, we can—”

  “Cut me a break. I won’t be here that long, Elle. If we wait until the weekend then we’re cutting our time short.”

  “What time?” She sputtered for a second and it was nice to see someone else speechless for a change. “You make it sound like we’re…we’re…”

  Involved? “All I’m saying is give me a chance. You might find that you like me and—”

  “If you think I’m going to sleep with you, you’re highly misinformed. Let’s get that clear real fast.” She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. Her hair fell across her arm and Quinn swallowed back another wave of pure lust. “I concede that it may have looked like I lost this…stupid…challenge-dare thing. Whatever you want to call it, but—”

  “May have looked like?” Quinn laughed and stepped toward her again. “May have looked like.” He repeated the words softly, looking down at her, ready to dive in for more just to prove his point. “I’d say that not only did you lose, you lost in a blaze of glory.” Blaze being the operative word, since her proximity nearly set him on fire. He stood so close that he saw the yellow flecks in her dark green eyes. “Actually…I change my mind. I don’t think there is a loser in the game we just played.” He watched her for a minute and saw the uncertainty on her furrowed brows before backing toward the door again. “You’re right. Tonight’s not fair. So I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Seven o’clock.” He stepped down to the pavement and headed to the soundstage.

  “And that’s it,” she said firmly from her trailer. “No more games, no more touches. No nothing.”

  Putting his hand up to his ear, Quinn pretended as if he couldn’t hear her. “I didn’t catch—”

  “Hey, Quinn!”

  The familiar voice pulled Quinn out of his thoughts. The granite floor and hotel elevator came into sharp focus. He turned and blinked at the face of one of his employees walking past a huge white pillar in the lobby. A middle-aged, mechanical engineer of medium height and build with thinning brown hair and sharp brown eyes.

  “Hank? What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be overseeing the new engine design and production?” In London.

  Hank shook his head and smiled ruefully. “I won’t be overseeing anything if you sell this company to the wrong hands, Quinn. I have a stake in this just as much as you do. Have you seen him yet?”

  Most of the employees were worried about their jobs. Quinn understood the apprehension. “I appreciate your concern, Hank, but it’s my company—” his and Mac’s, “—and I’ll sell it to who I think will run it best… Seen who yet?”

  “Aaron Gerhardt is here. He must be worried if he cleared his schedule and flew from Germany. We found out he plans to talk to Mac and convince him to sell the company to Gerhardt Racing. Gerhardt’s trying to go behind your back.”

  “That weaselly fucking bastard. How’d you find out?”

  “Purely by accident. Gerhardt’s new assistant called to set up a meeting and she got her dates confused. She told Giselle that Gerhardt was ‘in Los Angeles’ this week. Giselle pumped her for more information and the lady said he was here on business trying to acquire Formula Racing Design.”

  Hiring Giselle had been one of his smarter moves too. His executive assistant was quick and smart. She’d been taking care of business and keeping him up-to-date with regular emails since he’d hit town. “I appreciate the information, but why didn’t you just call?”

  “I know you don’t want Gerhardt buying the company, but if you sell to Brant Racing then I’m not guaranteed a job. I like my job, Quinn. I worked too damn hard with Kurt to get here to lose everything now. I figured between Mac, you and me we could brainstorm an idea that gets the company sold to the right people. Have you talked to Mac yet? Has he changed his mind about selling?” Since Hank was now overseeing the project, his interest in the negotiations made sense, but Quinn had no legal obligation to include him. It was the damn moral obligation that made him feel like shit. Hank had a lot of years invested with the company.

  “I haven’t had a lot of time to talk to him yet, but he’s promised we will.”

  So Aaron Gerhardt thought he’d go behind Quinn’s back and steal the company, huh? What a prick. Not that nearly two billion dollars was a steal, but the man knew Quinn didn’t like him and didn’t want to sell to him. The company that bought Formula Racing Design was going to be in the forefront of the Formula One racing world. Their new, patented engine was going to revolutionize the sport.

  Hank rubbed his neck. He looked tired and stressed. “Any idea when we can meet with Mac? I’ll go back to England if you want, but I figure another head couldn’t hurt. Oh, I also found out where Gerhardt’s staying so I thought I’d see if I can track him down and find his agenda.” Hank shifted his bag over his shoulder. “This is too important to me. I couldn’t sit back and let something happen. I want to show you just what I can do.”

  “Are you checked in here?” Quinn asked.

  “I’m not checked in anywhere. My plane just landed and I came looking for you.”

  “Go ahead and check in. Put it on the company’s tab.”

  Hank gave him a tired grin. “I planned on it.”

  Smiling, Quinn slapped his shoulder. “I’ll call you later after I talk to Mac. The fact that you came all this way will make an impression. Thanks.” Quinn headed to the bank of elevators and up to the penthouse suite. Fucking Aaron Gerhardt wasn’t going to buy his company. At least not while Quinn was alive.

  Ellie checked the clock for the tenth time, took her hair out of an
uncomfortable knot and brushed it out. She had less than twenty minutes until Quinn showed up and she still didn’t know what to wear or what to do with her hair. Of all days for Ashley’s study group to go long…

  The front door squeaked and she raced out of her bedroom.

  Ashley, loaded down with a stack of law books, took one look at her and widened her eyes. “You’re not dressed yet?” she wailed. Her tone sent a fresh jolt of apprehension through Ellie.

  “No. I thought you were going to be home an hour ago. I was counting on you to help me. What am I supposed to wear on a date with a guy I don’t want to go out with? I mean, I can’t wear something sexy to lead him on, but I don’t want to wear something junky and make him think I don’t care at all.”

  “Please, he’s not going to think you don’t care because of your clothes,” Ashley said, dumping her bag and books on the sofa and following her into the bedroom. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck on the freeway. What have you picked out anyway?”

  Ellie pointed at the two outfits on her bed. “I had two trains of thought. I’ve got the simple black dress that I can wear with the three-inch black slingbacks in case he’s a little more dressed up, or I’ve got my nice jeans and spiky boots to dress them up so it’s not too casual, but still casual with the brown wraparound shirt that ties at the waist and matches the boots.” She looked to Ashley with hopeful eyes. “What do you think?”

  Ashley shook her head, standing in a Jack Benny pose. “No.” She tapped her cheek with an index finger. “No. You can’t wear either of those things. Not when you’re going out with the most gorgeous guy in town.” Ashley marched to the closet and pushed the slider door open wide. “I know the perfect outfit.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Ashley, one of these will be fine. When Quinn knocks on the door, tell him I’m running a few minutes late then come back here, tell me what he’s wearing and that will decide which outfit I pick. If he’s dressed a little nicer, I throw on the black number. If he’s in jeans, I’ll wear my jeans.”