Seven Hot Nights in Greece (The Taylor Brothers Book 1)

by Rose Lange

  Her friend snapped fingers in front of her face, bringing her back to the present.

  Emma shook off the mental images of Patrick and her co-worker. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  “Yes, boy is this going to be fun. Because Patrick sure has you under his spell, and the feeling seems to be mutual.”

  Emma looked up, finding his eyes already locked on hers from across the lobby. His expression smoldered with desire, singeing the fine hairs on her arms. As if under hypnosis, he made it impossible to look away. She broke eye contact and twisted the blinds shut again, almost regretting having opened them. Stepping away as if burned, her heart pounded, joining the lively mariachi band playing in her chest. She drew a deep, measured breath, another fruitless attempt at calm, but she had to try for sanity’s sake.

  Emma bristled. “What the hell’s he doing here, anyway?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t wait to find out. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, staff meeting in ten minutes.” Sarah hesitated in the doorframe, and laughter snorted through her nose.

  Alone again, Emma’s mind reeled non-stop, and her lungs heaved.

  He’s just a man I had sex with. He’s just a man I had sex with, meaningless sex, and nothing more whatsoever.

  She closed her eyes as she pressed her fingers into her temples. She would keep things professional or die trying.

  A knock at the door jerked her back to her senses.

  It was most likely Sarah, coming back to harass her. “If you came to tease me about Patrick, then you’d better think again.”

  She opened the door, but it wasn’t Sarah on the other side.

  Chapter 2

  Déjà vu blasted through Emma at the sight of Patrick. Those eyes, how they’d looked into hers when they’d made love. Endless emerald pools she wanted to strip down to the buff and swim in. A man shouldn’t have such agonizingly gorgeous eyes.

  Wordlessly, she stepped aside, and he brushed past her. She took advantage of his back to her, and cocked her head, appreciatively studying his perfect ass. Snapping back to her senses, she drew her eyes away, and shut the door.

  Schooling her features, she cleared her throat.

  “Patrick. What a pleasant surprise.” As the lie slipped out, she noted that her voice sounded calm, cool, and collected. Thank God.

  No need for him to know the strong effect he had on her. No need for him to know she wished she could make him disappear. She couldn’t ignore the tightening in her chest. Considering this side of six years ago they’d shared the most amazing week together, she also could not ignore the intense feelings he brought out.

  His gaze made a slow, bold, and seductive slide over her, like he’d been undressing her right before his very eyes. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

  “Emma.”

  Oh boy.

  If he continued to stare at her like this, Lord knew what could happen.

  She needed to get her shit together, right now.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “Is that any way to greet a former lover?”

  She flinched. “Patrick, don’t.”

  Finally, his gaze met hers. A knowing, familiar heat from the gorgeous emerald pools made her want to light up a cigarette. She wasn’t even a smoker.

  Did he still have to be this sexy after this many years? Why couldn’t he have a receding hairline and extra weight? In fact, Patrick looked better up close and personal. My goodness, more than better, amazingly filled out in his suit. The cut molded him to perfection.

  Hot damn, but her inner goddess wanted to ruffle him up, whip off that jacket, unbutton his shirt, and remove that tie. Ready and willing to have her way with him, right here on her desk. Screw work. Screw the meeting. Screw everything.

  She wanted to screw the hell out of Patrick.

  The sight of him, naked, was a marvelous sight to behold. So marvelous she’d photographed every last square inch in her mind, committing it to memory. Annoyed with the direction of her thoughts, she crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her high-heeled foot.

  Undeterred, he came closer. “Don’t what?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious?”

  “I am serious.” His eyes made another saucy roll over her body. “You look well, Emma. Very well.”

  The low, sexy timbre of his voice raised the heat in the room by several thousand degrees, as though a volcano had erupted. She swept her hand toward the top button of her shirt, giving it a tug and setting it free. Her office wasn’t small by any means, but right now it felt like a sardine can, and she, a sardine trapped by the confining and overwhelming presence of Patrick.

  Escape was all she could think of. Crawl under her desk and get away from that damned heavy-lidded, and, God help her, hotter than hellfire gaze.

  Without looking, she took a couple steps back until her bottom hit the desk. She clung to the edge as though it would save her, but let’s face it. The longer Patrick stood in her office, the more tempting he became. It had been too long since she’d woken to rumpled sheets, delicious sex, and a smile. Her sex-deprived mind conjured the most sinfully delicious image of him, looking mighty fine in her own bed.

  She pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank you, Patrick.”

  So lost in thought, she didn’t realize how close he was, and by then it was too late. Her breath hitched as he infiltrated her personal space, the heat he emanated more powerful than a magnet. His handsome face came within inches of hers as a strong, large hand caressed her cheek and lingered a moment before he gently grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. And in that moment, they traveled back to that island, six years ago.

  Her mouth parted. She wanted to grasp his collar and pull those sweet lips to hers.

  Another memory came to mind, of him taking her hand, and tucking them into a cave. He’d grasped her face in the same, reverent manner before he’d kissed her, made love to her. The idea that they might’ve been caught made the encounter that much hotter.

  Snapping back to the present, she quivered as he continued the torture and with great care stroked the side of her face, grazing her lower lip and lighting up the sensitive skin there. Her heart slid into her throat, as his gaze rolled toward hers, and her mouth went as dry as a garden in severe drought.

  The oxygen seemed to be depleted from her frail lungs. He’d not only put her under his spell, he’d use every trick in his arsenal of magic. His beautiful mouth scant inches away, the space between them minimal, tempted her to take advantage. The air crackled and sparked with electricity. Damn the man. Did he have to elicit this kind of deep-seated reaction and make her want to throw all her better judgment out the window?

  She sucked in her belly as he traveled to the expanse of flesh on her neck. His cool hand felt so damned good. Darting her tongue out to draw moisture, his eyes trailed the motion, as if he wanted to act on the erotic fantasies dancing through her mind. As if he, too, envisioned and remembered their time together long ago.

  Apparently, the passing years hadn’t made a difference because the attraction and the heat were still present. Alive and well, and had a strong pulse. If the pulse had been any stronger, she could dress it up, prop it on her desk, and teach it to read.

  Patrick made her feel things she hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity.

  Then he withdrew his hand and backed away, shooting her another lethal grin. “I look forward to seeing more of you, Emma.”

  With this, he turned and walked out of her office.

  Closing her eyes, she sagged against the desk, not trusting herself to let go. Her legs felt as unsteady as a newborn colt’s.

  Loosening her
grip, she stood straight and smoothed out her skirt. Still hardly believing what had just transpired, and worst of all, the way she’d stood there, mutely. But the way he’d touched her . . . Patrick had felt so good, and she honestly hadn’t wanted him to stop.

  Now reality set in, as she could only imagine what the office gossip would be by lunchtime, because most likely everyone had seen him enter her office. People in this office were nosy busybodies, and she and Patrick would be a hot topic.

  Great.

  She glanced at her watch, realizing she had less than five minutes to grab a fresh cup of coffee and use the restroom before the meeting.

  Moments later, she made her way to the conference room, amid curious glances, and took a seat. Reaching over to pour herself a glass of water, she met Patrick’s eyes from across the table, but instantly looked away. Best to try to ignore him. That’s right, just pretend he wasn’t here.

  Ha, fat chance, Emma. His entirely too appealing presence would make that pretty much impossible.

  Sarah took a seat next to her, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What happened?” Sarah whispered under her breath so only she could hear.

  Her relief was apparently short-lived. Emma frowned, feigning innocence, as she took a sip of water. “What are you talking about?”

  “In your office. Patrick entered and shut the door. Give me all the juicy details.”

  Juicy? Hardly. Sexy, enticing, heart-stopping, all of the above and more? Oh, hell yes. He’d barely touched her, hadn’t even kissed her, but the naked desire was evident and written all over his face . . . wow.

  Emma shrugged and rolled her eyes, faking indifference.

  “There is nothing to tell,” she whispered back.

  Glancing up, she saw Patrick hiding a boyish grin behind his hand.

  So far, Monday morning was not being good to her. Could this day get any worse?

  “Good morning everyone.” Her boss, Nina, glanced around the table. Her brown eyes danced with interest as they settled on Patrick. And like every other female in the office, she appraised him like a thick, juicy piece of meat. As if ready to serve him up and devour every last bite, complete with all the fixings.

  A swift pang of irrational jealousy shot straight to Emma’s gut, and by God, did she ever hate it.

  Sarah gently jabbed her in the side, jarring her from her thoughts.

  “Yes?” Emma said.

  “What is with you?”

  As casually as she could, Emma leaned over and whispered, “I don’t like the way Nina’s staring at him.”

  Her best friend gave her a sly smile, but said nothing, adding to her annoyance. She took a steadying breath before turning her attention back to their boss.

  “Thank you all for being here, and I hope you all had a wonderful weekend.” Nina leafed through her papers then took a seat.

  “I’m sure you’ve all seen the new face around here this morning. Patrick Taylor will be joining our team, and I’m sure will do great things for our company.”

  He nodded his greetings with a wave and a smile.

  Emma tried to keep her mind on the business at hand, but considering Patrick sat directly across from her, difficult was an understatement, and it was damn near impossible. She kept her eyes trained forward for the next fifteen minutes, and only half-listened to future and current projects. Nina then opened the floor to any questions, and another fifteen arduous minutes passed.

  “Okay, group, one last thing.” Nina directed her next statement to her. “I’ve decided to make some changes. Emma, since the Donovan healthcare account is the second largest one we have, I’m partnering you with Patrick. I’ll expect that you’ll bring him up to speed.”

  Shocked, Emma looked up, seeing an amused, naughty smirk on Patrick’s face, and just like that, her morning went from bad to worse.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sweet. Emma.

  The girl next door who used to sit in her upper bedroom window and try to hide behind the curtain while she’d watch him mow the lawn for her mom during the hot summer months. The girl who used to bundle up in the winter months and help him shovel snow. The girl who’d blossomed into a woman over the summer and into the fall months of their college days.

  An image resurfaced in his mind, as he recalled when he’d first started seeing her as a woman, and less like a little sister.

  It had been his senior year of college, her junior. She’d matured overnight, it seemed. An Edwin McCain song played over the speakers as she’d walked into the party with her friends, wearing a killer red dress showcasing voluptuous curves, cutting off at just above her knees. Her long, curly hair flowed down her back. Makeup only enhanced her natural beauty and those adorable freckles smattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

  His heart didn’t skip a beat. His heart nearly gave out. His senses swam, and without drug or alcohol influence.

  Fast-forward that next summer, when they took a trip with several classmates. That fateful trip had been a complete, and total, one-hundred-eighty-degree game changer.

  His heart sped up again, recalling the way she looked on the beach the night of their first kiss. The brightness of the moon illuminated her lovely skin, and hair, making the golden waves shimmer and sparkle. The way she’d kissed him back, giving him her all, giving him everything, and the way she’d boldly moved his hand to her—

  Shaking his head, he brought his mind back to the here and now, as he watched her speed-walk out of the conference room. He tried, without success, to keep his eyes off her lovely heart-shaped ass. Remembering that saucy little beauty mark above her left ass cheek.

  Emma’s luscious, pear-shaped figure had only blossomed for the better with the passing years. Already she’d had him salivating and eager, hungry for a bite.

  Seeing her again had definitely thrown him for a loop.

  Oh yeah, this will be a lot of fun indeed.

  He made short work of getting to her office then leaned against the open doorframe. Sticking his hands in his pockets, and unable to help himself, he studied her, seated at the edge of her desk in profile and oblivious to his presence as she held the receiver to her ear. He took advantage, hung back in the doorway, and stared.

  Really stared.

  Although petite, she had very shapely, sexy legs, crossed away from him, a mid-thigh skirt riding up, silky nude stockings, and black high heels. The white button-down blouse she wore accented her curves, nipping her at the waist, and showcasing those small, but still perfect breasts. Merely seeing the outline of them beneath the shirt made his fingers twitch.

  The last couple years had been full of mindless, casual, empty sex to numb the pain of losing his fiancée. Damn, but now? He was ready to combust at the sight of Emma, because she looked sexier than hell, and he hungered for a bite. He cleared his throat, the noise drawing her attention.

  A small smile graced her lovely face as their gazes met and locked. The partially opened blinds welcomed mid-morning light through the slats, casting a soft, pretty glow over her face, like a halo, making her appear angelic.

  Her medium-length, golden-blonde hair caught the light, making the strands glimmer and shine. Exactly the same way, God help him, as they had years ago. His fingers itched to touch those strands, to slide them over his fingertips and feel the honeyed silk.

  An image of Emma lying naked on the beach shot through his brain. Her hair strewn all over the white grains, her eyes shining, and a distant, not quite there look in the sea-blue depths, matching the color of the ocean lapping at their feet. Skin flushed, glowing, matching the color of the setting sun, a creamy dusky pink. The same exact color of her pert nipples. He’d taken his time, kissing the freckles over the bridge of her nose and cheeks, before he’d traveled lower, to her Cupid’s bow lips, the graceful ex
panse of her neck. The night they’d first made love shone bright in his memory.

  Fuck, this would be a problem if he couldn’t rein his desires in. Thrusting the images away, he buried his hands in his pockets.

  Get a damned hold of yourself!

  “I’ll call you back, Mom.”

  The minx held his gaze as she put the phone back into its cradle, and stood, throwing him a curious glance, as the same light flush of pink scattered over her cheeks, liberally bathing her neck and, dear God . . . She had read his mind. He’d always been able to tell her emotions, as she had a very expressive face.

  When she was happy, sad, anxious, tired, bored, excited.

  Aroused.

  Sweeping his eyes across the room, he readjusted his suddenly too-tight tie.

  Awareness made him pause as he spotted a familiar snow globe, cozily sitting on her desk, wedged between the stapler and tape dispenser. He couldn’t miss it even if he tried. Tiny white houses, and an even smaller red one, sat within the globe, their blue tops brightened against the glass. Miniature brown cliffs cascaded down to a pair of donkeys, curled up and asleep near the base, which had caught her eye in the first place. Along the side, etched in gold letters, Santorini stared back at him.

  He’d purchased it for her on their trip abroad as they’d walked the outdoor markets and many shops the island offered. She’d worn a flowing blue sundress and not much else underneath. The memory of him lifting the sundress later that day, only to discover he’d been right...

  A smile split his face in two at the idea of her saving the globe, after all these years.

  Guilt entered as quickly as he recalled how he’d given her the cold shoulder after the trip, for reasons he was not comfortable voicing at the time. Unable to admit he’d felt entirely too much during that intense week with Emma, and unable to admit his true feelings long before that.

  “What can I do for you, Patrick?” She crossed her arms over her chest, making those appealing breasts jut out quite nicely.