Smooth-Talking Texan

by Candace Camp

  “What happened?”

  “He walked. We couldn’t even indict him. He went back to his business. And Jennifer kept working for him. I couldn’t believe it.” His mouth twisted humorlessly as he thought back to what had happened. “I was still naive—after all that time, all the stuff I’d seen, I still was naive enough to think that she wouldn’t work for him because he was crooked. I figured when he returned and she’d have to be working with him again, she would leave. But she didn’t. We had a big argument about it. I wanted her to leave. I should have realized that it was pointless. What I really wanted, I guess, was for her to want to leave because he was crooked. For her to feel that it was the right thing to do. But she didn’t. She said she was getting a promotion because her marketing campaign had done so well. She would head up a new department they were creating, and she would be reporting directly to the CEO.”

  “The crook?” Lisa exclaimed.

  “Yeah.” Bitterness tinged his voice. “The crook. She was going to have a lot more money and power and prestige. It was everything she wanted. I pointed out to her that he was a criminal. She said he hadn’t even been brought to trial. We didn’t have proof, we just had suspicions. I told her we were certain, and I pointed out that the only reason he hadn’t been brought to trial was because he had in all probability had our witness killed! She said there was no proof of that. She said that her company and what she did was legitimate, anyway. I told her we couldn’t stay together if she did that. I couldn’t be involved with someone who worked for a criminal. And she looked me straight in the eye and said she already knew that—he had already told her that she couldn’t work for him and be involved with one of the cops who was after him.”

  “Oh, Quinn…” Lisa didn’t know what to say to him. What could possibly ease the hurt of such a betrayal?

  “Her job was all that mattered to her, her ambition. She was willing to give me up. She was willing to work for someone without morals. She didn’t care as long as she got ahead. So there I was, the case I had devoted my life to for a year went bust. The bad guy walked. And the woman I loved chose him and her career over me. That’s when I quit the force and moved back to Angel Eye.”

  “I’m sorry. Oh, Quinn, I’m so sorry.” Lisa slid across the couch to him, her arms going around him instinctively. She knew now why his sister had called him ‘guarded,’ why he had stuck to short-term, casual relationships.

  He remained stiff for a moment, then his arms clamped around her tightly, and Quinn buried his face in the crook of her neck, holding on to her as if he would never let her go.

  Lisa was a little amazed at the pleasure that washed through her at simply being in Quinn’s arms like this. The weight of his head against her shoulder, the warmth of his body, the hard strength of his bones and muscles against her—all filled her with a deep sense of satisfaction and peace, as if something missing for a long time was finally there, as if she belonged there.

  He shifted, turning so that they were lying down on the couch, arms around each other, cocooned in warmth. His lips brushed her hair.

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Lisa nestled into him, closing her eyes and luxuriating in the comfort and strength of lying against him. She heard his breathing slip gradually into the steady, slow rhythm of sleep. Her lips curved up into a smile. She should get up, she thought, and send him home to bed, but it was much too nice to lie here with him. She didn’t know why it felt so good, so right, to feel his hard body relaxing against her, but she knew that she could not bring it to an end just yet. Lisa shifted into a more comfortable position, turning her back into him, and he adjusted in his sleep, his arm looping over her. She would just lie here for a moment longer, she thought….

  She was dreaming about Quinn: a hot, sensual dream. He was naked and in a bathtub, his head leaning back against the rim, eyes closed, and steam rose all around them. She knelt beside him, her hand sliding soapily over his chest. His skin was slick beneath her fingers, hard bone padded by muscle. His face was slack with sensual pleasure, and small noises of enjoyment escaped from him as her hand roamed over his body. Her breasts felt full and heavy, and there was a growing ache between her legs, warm and insistent. She stirred, moving her legs to ease the yearning there.

  Then they were on a porch, and it was she who was naked now. She knew that they should go inside, that anyone who happened by could see them there, but she could not bring herself to move. Quinn was behind her now, his quickening manhood pressing against her buttocks, his hands roaming over the front of her. His hand was at her waist, and she reached up and put her own hand over his, pushing his hand farther down, guiding it toward the blossoming ache between her legs, seeking the fulfillment that only he could bring. Then his hand was there, slipping in between her legs, pressing into her.

  Pleasure rocketed through her, hot and quick, so startling that her eyes flew open, and she was jolted out of her sleep. She blinked, trying to gather her wild, scattered thoughts. Her whole body felt on fire; Quinn’s body behind her was a furnace. In her sleep, her old robe had twisted around her, the belt loosening, and the two sides gaped open. Just as in her dream, her hand was on top of his, guiding his hand in between her legs, and her legs were clamped tightly around it, the hot pleasure that had brought her awake pulsing in waves through her.

  She closed her eyes, her face flushing hot with embarrassment. Simply dreaming about him had brought her to climax, and she was still hot and aching for him. She could only hope that he was still asleep and did not know how she had responded to him in her sleep.

  Behind her, Quinn stirred, groaning faintly. He shifted in his sleep, throwing his leg over her. She was glad that he was obviously still asleep, but the new intimacy of their position aroused her even more. She pressed her lips together, trying to will away the throbbing urgency within her. Quinn’s hand slid up to her waist, pressing her more tightly against him.

  “Lisa,” he murmured, and the very sound of her name in his mouth stirred her. Asleep, he had said her name, not anyone else’s, not even that of the woman he had loved in San Antonio.

  She felt his whole body stiffen suddenly, and she knew that he, too, had awakened. She heard his breath, short and quick. His hand spread out over her stomach caressingly.

  “Lisa,” he said again, his voice a caress in itself, and nuzzled into her hair. His hand roamed over the bare skin of her stomach, moving down until it touched the elastic of her panties, then gliding back up until his knuckles brushed the underside of her breast.

  He murmured something unintelligible as his lips pressed into the skin of her neck, and he cupped her breast. Lisa could not contain a small moan of pleasure as he gently cradled her breast, his thumb circling her nipple. Her nipples prickled and hardened, shivers running out through her. A long shudder shook Quinn, and he rose up on his arm, turning her to him, his mouth seeking hers hungrily.

  Lisa wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, her mouth eagerly answering him. She wanted him deep inside her, easing the ache between her legs, filling and fulfilling her. Warm and hazy with sleep, for the moment she thought of nothing but her need, the elemental hunger inside her for him.

  He took her nipple between his forefinger and thumb, tenderly squeezing and rolling it so that it hardened. His mouth left hers, trailing molten kisses down her throat and onto her chest. Pushing aside the loose folds of her robe, he exposed her breasts, and for a moment he paused, looking at the full, soft orbs, centered by pink-brown nipples, tight with desire for him.

  Then he bent and brushed his lips against each nipple, with feathery kisses arousing them even more. Her breasts were heavy and aching for him, and when at last his mouth settled upon one nipple, pulling it into his mouth with a firm, wet suction, Lisa gasped at the sheer pleasure that coursed down through her, exploding like fire in her abdomen. She groaned, digging her hands into his hair and arching up.

  Lisa had dated, had even been serious enough with two men
that they had become lovers, but never had she felt as she did now. Never before had she felt as if her entire being was consumed with flame, as if she hungered and thirsted for a man. The touch of Quinn’s callused fingers against her skin was driving her to the brink of madness, it seemed. Each touch of his lips and flicker of his tongue increased the heated throbbing between her legs until she felt as if she would explode with a passion too great to contain. She moved restlessly beneath him, her fingers digging into his arms in a way that would have been painful had he not been too far lost in his own passion to feel it.

  Quinn slid farther down, his mouth moving over the smooth skin of her stomach, his breath rasping in his throat, blood pounding in his head. He had come awake suddenly, hot and hard, pulsing with need for her. He wanted her with a desperate, primitive hunger, wanted to taste her and feel her in every way, to lose himself deep within her.

  However, they were lying on a couch, and as he moved down, heedless of everything but the yearning inside him, his feet encountered the arm of the sofa, and, with an impatient twist, the large lamp that stood on the end table. The lamp turned over with a crash, rolling off the end table and thudding onto the floor, sending the room into darkness.

  Quinn cursed, briefly and vividly. Lisa froze, startled into awareness of her situation. Suddenly she saw herself, wild with hunger, not the rational woman in control of herself and her life that she usually was, but a creature possessed by a passion so fiery it consumed her—wanton, even animalistic, panting and moaning with desire.

  “No!” She scrambled out from beneath Quinn.

  Chapter 7

  Lisa moved a safe distance away from Quinn, wrapping her robe around her. She trembled, her body still pulsing with need, but her mind in control once again, astonished and embarrassed by her loss of control.

  Quinn groaned and sat up, bracing his elbows on his knees and shoving his hands back into his hair. “Lisa…”

  “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know what—I’m usually not like this.”

  “Like what? Passionate?” He stood up and started toward her, his arms reaching out to her.

  Lisa took several steps back. “I don’t—we hardly know each other.”

  “I think we know what we need to,” he said huskily, but he stopped a few feet from her, not wanting to send her into further flight.

  “This was a mistake.” Lisa belted her robe tightly, squaring her shoulders and struggling to ignore the heat surging through her. “I don’t do this normally.”

  “Maybe this isn’t a normal situation.”

  “I just—I don’t fall into bed easily. I have to have some feeling—”

  “You’re trying to tell me you don’t feel anything for me?”

  “Something besides pure lust!” Lisa snapped back.

  A faint smile touched his lips. “Well, at least you’ll admit to that.”

  “Yes, I’ll admit it. I’ve never felt like this before. I wanted you. Still want you,” she added before he could protest her choice of words again. “Please, Quinn, don’t make this hard for me. You know it’s not that I don’t feel passion for you. I do. And I like you. I feel close to you. But I’m a cautious person. I have to know that there’s really something there between us—something more than just a physical attraction, however strong it may be.”

  “It’s strong all right.” Quinn sighed, swiping a hand back through his hair. “Damn!” He turned away, walking over to pick up the lamp and set it back on the end table.

  A little shakily, Lisa went to the light switch and turned it on. She turned back to find Quinn close behind her. She looked up into his face, striving for a calm demeanor.

  “You know, Lisa, maybe you aren’t usually like this because what’s between us is unusual. Maybe it’s that special. Not wrong.”

  Looking into his eyes, Lisa could feel herself weakening. “I don’t know that it’s wrong. But it—it scares me a little. Yesterday was just our first date!”

  Again a brief smile flickered across his lips. “I promise I won’t think you’re easy.”

  “It’s not that. Well, not entirely,” she admitted with a smile. “You do have a certain reputation, and I don’t want to be one of your conquests.”

  “Darlin’, I’m the one who’s been conquered here.”

  “No. No flirting. It’s time for you to go home. I need to get some sleep.”

  He took her chin between his forefinger and thumb, looking intently down into her eyes. “And are you going to be able to do that?”

  Lisa swallowed. How could just the look in his eyes make her want to tumble into bed with him? “Eventually,” she told him, striving to keep her voice even.

  “I’m thinking there’s no point in my even trying,” he said, his thumb caressing her chin. “You know, Lisa, that’s what it’s supposed to be like—the fire…the hunger. Desire isn’t a rational decision.”

  “Maybe. But I can be rational about whether I give in to it or not.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. One of these days, you’re going to get swept away. And I intend to be there when it happens.”

  He bent and brushed a light kiss across her lips, then turned and strode out the door.

  Lisa decided to spend the next few days clearing her mind of Quinn Sutton. It would take a while away from him to allow her to think logically and coolly about the situation. She soon found out, however, that even though he was not there, she could not keep him out of her thoughts. She cleaned her apartment and did her laundry, but no matter how busy she kept her hands, she could not stop her mind from straying to Quinn.

  Quinn did not help the situation any by calling her the next afternoon to say, “Hey, darlin’, got it figured out yet?”

  She chuckled, sitting down on the sofa and curling her legs up under her, warmth stealing over her. “Not yet,” she admitted, a little amazed at the flirtatious note that tinged her voice.

  “I could come over and help you decide,” he offered, the tone of his voice leaving little doubt as to exactly how he would help.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re a hard woman. You know, I was thinking.”

  “Mmm, that sounds dangerous.”

  “If not knowing me all that well is what’s holding you back, then the best thing to do is get to know me. Right?”

  Lisa laughed again. “I think now you’re sounding like a lawyer.”

  “It only makes sense,” he said protestingly. “So we ought to go out again. Say tomorrow night.”

  “And here I was thinking just the opposite—that we ought to spend a few days without seeing each other. Give us some time to evaluate the situation.”

  “The situation?” he repeated. “Is that what it is?”

  “I don’t know what it is.”

  “Well, I could help you there. I know what it is.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I think it’s called falling like a rock for somebody.”

  “Or maybe it’s rushing in where angels fear to tread.”

  “Are we going to sit here trading clichés or are we going to have supper tomorrow night?”

  “Quinn…you’re impossible.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  In the end, she wound up accepting his invitation, as she had known she would all along. They went out to dinner and a movie, and afterward they went back to her apartment for a drink and a few soul-stirring kisses. But, a little to her surprise—and, she had to admit, disappointment—he did not urge her to go further than their kisses but left before midnight, saying that he had to get up early the next morning. Lisa wandered around the apartment restlessly after his departure, unable to go to sleep, but unable to concentrate on anything like a book or even a television show. She had wanted him to stay, she knew; she had expected him to at least try. She could hardly fault him for being a gentleman or for giving her the space and time she had told him she needed. But it did make her feel somewhat miffed that he seemed able to leave her so easily.
She could not help but wonder if he really felt the same degree of passion for her that she did for him—to her great annoyance, she could not stop thinking about what it would be like to give in and make love with Quinn. She had never experienced this sort of desire before; all the time during their date, she had had to fight back thoughts of kissing him, of sliding her hand beneath his shirt to feel the smooth flesh of his chest, of lying back on her bed and reaching up to pull him down on top of her.

  When they had begun kissing, she had known that she was perilously close to letting nature take its course. And then he had pulled away, saying he had to go—and leaving her hot and dissatisfied and unsure whether she was more irritated at him or herself. Was he struggling with his passion—or did he just not care? Or was he playing some sort of game with her? He was, after all, far more experienced at this sort of thing than she.

  Two days later, Quinn called and invited her to his house for supper. This, Lisa was sure, would be a seduction attempt. A cozy dinner at his house…candlelight…music…his bed only a few tempting feet away…The nerves in her stomach began to jump, and she wasn’t sure whether it was more from anxiety or eagerness.

  He offered to pick her up, but Lisa insisted on driving over herself. She was not sure how she was going to handle any attempt at seduction, but she was certain that she wanted to retain control of her ability to leave whenever she wanted. She tried on and discarded four outfits, rejecting one as too plain—this wasn’t a business dinner, for heaven’s sakes—and another as too alluring—she didn’t want him to think she was encouraging him to seduce her, after all—and after studying them for several minutes, she began to wonder why she had bought the other two dresses at all.

  Finally, annoyed with herself, she pulled on a plain pair of khaki pants and one of her favorite tops and drove over to Angel Eye, trying to quell the butterflies that were now loose inside her.

  She pulled up in front of Quinn’s house, faintly surprised by the small, almost quaint little house and its well-tended front yard. She got out of her car and walked up the old, cracked sidewalk to the front porch, very aware of the curtains twitching aside in the house next door and of the old man walking a little dog farther down the street who stopped in his tracks, watching with open curiosity. Life in a small town. She had little doubt that there were other eyes watching around the block. The thought that Quinn had probably provided his neighbors with ample topics for gossip over the years stiffened her back.