by Nina Lane
The spotlight followed him, a glowing halo making his dark hair shine. Hannah’s heart kicked into gear. Surely he wouldn’t… he couldn’t…
He stopped in front of her. She stared with determined fascination at the perfect knot of his bow-tie nestled at the base of his throat. His gaze even felt blue—clear, strong, confident. And then his hand brushed against her wrist, his fingers wrapping around hers in a grip that was both gentle and unmistakably firm.
“Thanks for the save,” he murmured.
“I… I did owe you for the whipped cream… er, milk snow incident.”
Her whole body felt electrified by his touch—a collision of sparks with reverberations right to the pit of her belly. She took a breath. Okay, so she’d done something stupid. Not the first time. All she had to do was apologize, send him back to the auction for another round of bidding, then escape into the kitchen to arm herself for the fallout of this disaster.
“I have no idea where that came from,” she whispered. “I did not mean to bid on you.”
“I’m glad you did,” he replied, his eyes still holding hers in some sort of mystical blue steel trap that was somehow both unnerving and soothing at the same time. “Why did you come to the auction?”
“Your aunt told me I could write about it for my blog,” Hannah explained, darting a glance past his shoulder at the expectant audience. “I wasn’t supposed to bid, for heaven’s sake. I mean, obviously I can’t afford to pay for you. Not for anywhere near fifty thousand dollars. Not for anywhere near a thousand dollars.”
“How much can you afford to pay for me?”
“If you include the change at the bottom of my purse,” Hannah said, “maybe $8.56.”
Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Sold.”
Sold?
“Come on, Evan!” shouted another woman.
A hush fell over the crowd, punctuated by occasional whoops or calls of encouragement.
Hannah steeled her spine. She’d gotten them both into this mess, and now she had to get them out of it.
“You don’t have to do this.” She gestured toward the villa. “If you’d let go of me, I’ll just run away and everyone will have a fun story to tell about the dessert girl who made a scene over the eligible Evan Stone.”
“They already have a fun story to tell,” Evan replied. “Now they’re just waiting for the end.”
“Which is… ?”
“A kiss.” His eyes creased with a smile. “There’s always a kiss at the end.”
Not in my experience, there isn’t.
He stepped closer. His scent—cedar and the fresh air of night—filled her blood. He caressed the inside of her wrist with his thumb, a gentle movement like the stroke of a paintbrush. The silver flecks in his blue eyes were like glitter sprinkled over the sky. Hannah swallowed hard, her heart beating faster.
Her gaze went unwillingly to his beautifully shaped mouth. There was a little notch beneath his lower lip, like a secret. The urge to press the tip of her finger there seized her with sudden force.
Evan slipped his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. Her heart stopped.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t…
He tangled his other hand in her hair and cupped the back of her neck. His grip was certain, gentle, as if he were securing her rather than holding her in place. Then he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
And inside Hannah, a light clicked on.
Chapter
THREE
Hannah had seen the sun rise over the African savannah and dolphins leaping in Plettenberg Bay. She had been awed by the pyramids at Giza, the Great Wall of China, and the sight of Machu Picchu through the foggy reddish light of dawn. She had walked on Ireland’s majestic Cliffs of Moher and felt as if she were standing on the edge of the world.
And yet for all the magnificence of those experiences, none of them had inspired a slow, billowing sensation like molten lava flowing through her veins. None of them had spun clouds in the middle of her soul.
But Evan’s kiss did. The world with its ancient monuments and sweeping vistas faded beneath the sheer pleasure of his lips moving against hers. Hannah’s body came alive, every nerve ending lighting up.
He brought his hands up to hold either side of her head, increasing the pressure of his mouth. Hannah’s heart thumped with an emotion both painful and sweet, as some distant part of her mind wondered if any man had ever cradled her head while kissing her.
And Evan kissed her. Oh, did he kiss her. His mouth moved with deliberate ease over hers, urging her lips apart so he could dip his tongue inside. He tasted like sweet, spicy peppermint, and his breath was cool against her lips. Hannah’s pleasure blossomed outward, filling her veins with heat. He slid his tongue over hers, nibbled at her bottom lip, and licked the corners of her mouth.
It was a delicious, prolonged seduction, carrying the promise of so much more. Her whole body swayed toward him as she longed to press her breasts against his chest, to feel his hands slipping beneath her shirt and touching her bare skin.
He drove his fingers into her hair, threading his hands through the long strands. He tilted her head and deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue over the surface of her teeth before moving to press his lips to her cheek. His stubble scraped her skin exquisitely, igniting little fires in her veins. She trailed her fingers over his arms, feeling the muscles of his forearms beneath his tuxedo jacket.
She could drown in him, sinking into the heat of his body and never wanting to come out again.
A burst of light glared behind her closed eyelids, and dimly she heard the cheers and cat-calls of the crowd. A chill ran down her spine. She tore herself away from Evan, caught by the burn of his blue eyes.
“All right, folks!” Adam Stone stepped in front of them suddenly, lifting his hands to the crowd. “Our baby brother Tyler is next on the auction block, and you’d better believe he wants to beat both me and Evan in the bidding war.”
Voices rose as people returned to their tables and servers started forward to refill wineglasses. The spotlight shifted back to the stage, casting Evan and Hannah in darkness again.
Their heavy breaths mingled between them. Hannah couldn’t think past the haze of desire and shock. Evan tightened his grip on her wrist and led her away from the courtyard, back into the quiet of the kitchen. He closed the door and turned to face her.
“You… you should get back out there,” Hannah stammered in a rush. “I mean, go up for auction again. I’ll tell everyone it was a terrible mistake so someone else can bid on you, and you can go on the dates with a woman who can actually afford you.”
He regarded her, his eyebrows drawing together.
“You owe me $8.56,” he said.
Hannah swallowed. “I owe you fifty thousand dollars.”
He shook his head. “You bought me for $8.56. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“The rest? You mean the fifty thousand dollar rest?”
Evan shrugged, as if the amount were negligible. “I mean the forty-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-one dollars and forty-four cents rest.”
“But that’s a fortune!”
“It all goes to my mother’s foundation anyway, so it’s not that big a deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Hannah stared at him. “This is an astronomically big deal!”
“Compared to other things, it’s not.” He skimmed his gaze over her, heat brewing in his eyes as if she rather than a stupidly impulsive bid were the “big deal” here.
“I can’t let you do this.” Hannah started to the door. “I’ll find your aunt and figure out a way to make up for—”
He moved in front of her so swiftly that she almost bumped up against him. And oh, there was that delicious scent of him again, something aromatic and peppery like herbs, and that heat radiating from his body. There was that crackling attraction that pushed Hannah toward him rather than away.
She stared at the perfect knot of his tie, the mother-of-pearl buttons marchi
ng up the front of his shirt. She wanted to press her hand to his broad chest, to feel the beat of his heart.
Heartbreaker.
With his devastating combination of good looks and charm, Evan Stone was a natural seducer, but not in a smarmy gigolo kind of way. He was more like a rare combination of the boy next door, the hottie senior crush, and a singularly self-possessed male who knew exactly what he wanted.
And when he wanted a particular woman, he got her.
Hannah shivered a little at the thought of being gotten by Evan Stone.
“You saved me from the clutches of lovely Lucy Clements,” he said. “That’s more than enough payment for me. Thank you.”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “Well, you saved me from an exploding whipped cream dispenser. So thank you too, though I’m still convinced that whipped cream is inherently evil and out to get me.”
“Yet another misguided notion I’ll need to correct.” He brushed his thumb across her earlobe, as if a trace of cream still lingered there. “Sounds like we saved each other. That makes us even.”
“I… I guess so.” Her breath caught as he ran his finger behind her ear, eliciting that warm, melty feeling in her belly. If he started rubbing her earlobe again, she’d end up a puddle on the floor.
“So we’re good?” Evan extended his pinkie finger, his eyes crinkling with a smile.
God, he was cute.
Hannah hooked her pinkie around his. “We’re good.”
He tightened his hold around hers and tugged. “Then we should kiss again.”
A laugh bubbled in Hannah’s throat. She ignored the flash of warning in her mind—don’t start anything with him—as he slipped his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. If Hannah believed the potency of their first kiss had been heightened by the crowd’s excitement and the utter shock of the moment, she was proven wrong the instant Evan’s lips touched hers.
Bliss flooded her. She sank into him, curling her hands around his lapels as all the heat and pleasure poured back into her like a waterfall. Except this time, they were alone without the glare of a spotlight, and that knowledge emboldened her. She parted her lips and darted her tongue out to touch his because—oh my God—it felt so good to feel so good.
A groan rumbled in his chest. He slipped one hand around to her lower back, tugging her firmly against him. Hannah shuddered as their bodies sealed together, his lean, hard length pressing fully against her curves. Her nipples stiffened from the contact, sending a bolt of pleasure to her core.
“Christ, you taste incredible.” He drew his tongue across her lower lip. “Much sweeter than dessert.”
He tangled his other hand in her hair, tilting her head to just the right angle before settling his mouth over hers again. Their lips touched, retreated, met again and clung.
So many types of kisses in the world. Hand kisses, cheek kisses, air kisses. Eskimo nose kisses. Kissing under the mistletoe, on New Year’s Eve, the Blarney Stone. First kisses.
But was this what people meant when they talked about the perfect kiss? Was it this wild, riotous combination of tenderness and excitement, the sense that you were both simultaneously falling and floating? Was it when eternity folded in on itself, distilling time and space into the moment of one particular man and woman touching lips?
Was it a full harvest moon right on the edge of the earth? Was it the infinite colors of a rainforest, the churning rapids of a river, the silence and peace of a temple? Was it feeling as if you were being kissed right to your soul?
Yes, whispered a little voice at the back of Hannah’s mind. This is it.
The light inside her burned hotter, brighter. She brought her hands up to cradle Evan’s jaw, his faint stubble rubbing her palms deliciously. He gripped her hips and turned her so her back was against the door, and then he rested his hands on either side of her head, caging her in the secure circle of his arms.
Instead of kissing her again, he tracked his gaze over her face, her kiss-swollen lips and heated cheeks, down to the arch of her neck and lower to where her nipples tented her silk top. His eyes lingered on her breasts, which rose and fell with the force of her breath.
“Ah, hell,” he whispered, smoothing one hand over her bare arm. “What is it about you, Lockhart? Aside from the fact that your body does crazy things to me, and I forget my own damn name every time I look into your eyes, and I’ve wanted to taste your mouth since the day I first saw you at Wild Child…”
Hannah’s breath caught. “Really?”
“You couldn’t tell?” Amusement flashed in his eyes. “Didn’t you ever wonder why it takes me over an hour to eat a Declair? It’s because I spend most of the time sneaking glances at you.”
Hannah smiled, inexplicably warmed by the idea that he’d been coming into Wild Child as much for her as for the pastries. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
“Not good to hit on the sister of my brother’s fiancé,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm in a warm movement that melted her like butter. “Unless she nearly gives herself a concussion with a whipped cream dispenser, insists that she doesn’t like dessert, and bids fifty thousand dollars for a date with me. Then all bets are off.”
“Lucky me.”
She slid her hand to the back of his neck, driving her fingers into his thick hair as their lips met in another hot kiss.
Sudden urgency flared between them. His mouth still locked to hers, Evan brought his hands up to cup her breasts, flicking his thumbs over her stiff nipples. Desire shot through Hannah. Her whole body arched toward him, pulsing with a need she was certain only he could satisfy.
He trailed his lips across her cheek, down to her neck, and bit gently on her collarbone as he twisted her nipples through the silk of her top. She shivered, her sex dampening with both need and anticipation.
She pressed her hand to his chest, his heart thumping steady and strong against her palm. Then she stroked lower to the heavy bulge pressing at the front of his trousers. Oh, he was big, his erection a thick ridge along his thigh. Dizziness swept through her at the thought of him pushing all that hard flesh into her, assuaging the ache of need that had been building inside her for months…
The sound of laughter and loud voices crashed into her ears from the foyer. Evan lifted his head, muttering a curse beneath his breath. He pushed away from her, his hands loosely circling her arms.
“I guess it was too much to hope they’d all just go home,” he said wryly.
Reality broke through the heat waves of pleasure still enveloping Hannah. She slipped past Evan, brushing loose strands of hair from her face as she regained her composure.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Your aunt hired me to work at the auction, not make ridiculous bids and then canoodle with you in the kitchen.”
“Actually, my aunt would be glad to know I’m canoodling,” he replied. “With Luke and Polly off together, Julia is likely to turn her matchmaking skills on me next.”
“So you want to head her off at the pass?”
“No. I do want to kiss you again though.”
Hannah tried to deflect the pleasurable rush his words evoked. Lack of sex aside, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d engaged in gentle flirting with a hot guy. With Evan, that flirting could so easily turn into more.
The warning light inside her flashed harder. With the pressure of the desserts, the whipped cream, the craziness of the bid, and Evan’s irresistibly sexy charm… this night had clearly gotten the better of her. Time to pull herself together and finish her job.
“You’d better go.” She nodded to the door. “They’ll be waiting for you.”
Evan opened the door, his gaze on her. Heat lingered in his expression, a smoldering fire that would flare back to life with one breath.
“You owe me $8.56, Lockhart,” he said. “I intend to collect.”
Her heart thumped with both wariness and anticipation as the reality of her mistake crashed in on her. Clearly she had a h
ard time controlling herself around him, and if he were to actually pursue her… Hannah suspected her debt would end up being a much higher price than she was able to pay.
Chapter
FOUR
Evan ran back up the beach toward his house, his lungs aching and his breathing fast. For the past two days, his usual three-mile morning run had been extra tough as he wrestled thoughts of Hannah Lockhart. His mind burned with the sharp memory of her warm, sweet mouth, the curves of her slender body, her full breasts and tight nipples…
Ah fuck, he wanted her bad. He’d wanted her since he’d first met her at Wild Child and felt the clasp of her fingers around his. And now that he knew how sweet she tasted… he craved more of her, as much as he could get. He hadn’t been thinking of anything but her at the auction—the flash of her smile, her insistence that she didn’t like dessert, the collision of their gazes across the crowded room.
It had been a long time since he’d felt that hot, welcome rush of desire. Everything about his encounter with Hannah had diluted his unease over his upcoming doctor’s appointment. Though his heart defect often dictated what he could do, he’d always had total autonomy in his relationships with women. He knew what he wanted and how to get it.
And right now, he wanted Hannah Lockhart. He could ignore the fact that she was Polly’s sister, almost his sister-in-law, and that Luke might not like him hooking up with her. Evan hadn’t been with a woman in well over six months, and now that he was focused on running Sugar Rush in Luke’s absence and finally securing the acquisition of Alpine Chocolates, he wasn’t looking for anything serious.
Which also meant he should stay away from Hannah. If he started something with her, and it ended badly, that could screw up his relationship with Luke and Polly. The Stones had been through a lot. Luke had worked hard to save Sugar Rush after their mother’s death and again after a paternity suit had almost wrecked them. Evan would never do a damned thing to threaten their family relationships.