by Jenna Sutton
Bastard.
“You should see if Tums needs a new spokesperson,” he suggested sarcastically, trying to figure out how he could get Amelia away from the man he used to consider his best friend.
Priest laughed, but it sounded forced to Quinn, and his aggression transformed into concern. Something was going on with Priest, but Quinn knew it would take an act of God to pry it from the man’s lips.
“Let’s sit down,” he suggested, snagging two beers from the catering cart for himself and Priest along with a bottle of water for Amelia. He nodded toward the empty seats near his parents and Teagan. There were only three seats left, two on the back row and one on the first row next to his sister.
As Priest glanced toward the seats, Quinn felt his friend stiffen. “There’s plenty of room,” he added, trying to make sure Priest knew he was welcome. “You can have the seat next to Teagan.”
Priest didn’t bother to reply. He just headed toward the empty seat.
Quinn shifted closer to Amelia. “You’re sitting next to me, not Eye Candy.”
She let out a breathy laugh that made his skin tingle. “If you insist.”
“I do insist. And I might insist that we leave the game early.”
She shot him a quizzical glance. “Why? Aren’t you having a good time?” She smiled wryly. “I am.” He detected a bit of surprise in her voice.
He leaned down. “I’m having a good time, Juice, but I don’t think I can wait another three hours before I get you naked again,” he whispered into her ear. “What would you think about sneaking off to the janitor’s closet down the hall?”
Her brown eyes widened, and she looked around before replying. “Seriously? We had sex right before we left.”
His cock twitched at the reminder. The sex they’d enjoyed in his Audi had been fast and rough, and it had barely taken the edge off his hunger for her. He imagined he was just like a junkie who needed more and more heroin to achieve the mind-numbing rush.
He was a little worried his hunger for Amelia might never be sated. His feelings for her were more intense than simple affection and basic desire.
He had told Amelia that meeting his parents wasn’t a big deal—that it was just business. But when he’d introduced her to them, he realized he’d been lying to himself and to her.
It was a big deal.
Quinn had wanted to claim her. He had wanted to let his parents know she meant something to him beyond their professional relationship—that she was important to him not only as the future president and CEO of Riley O’Brien & Co. but also as a man.
He had studied Amelia as she’d talked with his parents. She was engaged but reserved. Friendly but not warm. Her brown eyes had been wary, like she had expected rejection or something worse, and he’d fought the urge to wrap her in his arms and reassure her.
He knew his parents were no threat to Amelia, but he’d stayed close in case she had needed him. She’d unearthed his protective instincts—instincts that usually lay dormant unless the situation involved someone he loved.
• • •
“So tell me, Amelia, has my son been helpful? Has he given you what you need?”
Oh, yeah, he’s given me what I need. Several times, in fact.
Praying her cheeks weren’t red, she met Kate O’Brien’s dark blue gaze. Even the most innocent question made her think naughty thoughts, and she couldn’t believe she was thinking about sex when Quinn’s mother stood right next to her.
Kate arched a blond brow at Amelia, reminding her that she’d not answered Kate’s question. “He’s been very helpful,” she replied.
“I’m glad to hear it. Has he been hands-on?”
An image of Quinn’s hands on her breasts flashed through her mind, and Amelia knew there was no hope of avoiding a blush this time. Heat raced across her face like wildfire.
Ronald Wilson Reagan!
“No, he hasn’t been hands-on,” Amelia averred. “He told me that he didn’t want to be too involved with the project.”
Kate sighed. “I had hoped Quinn would be more interested in the women’s division than James.” She shook her head. “But O’Brien men are so stubborn, and my sons are the rules not the exceptions.”
Amelia laughed. Quinn caught her eye from across the room and winked at her. She smiled, and Kate turned to see what had caught her attention.
It was halftime, and the suite was full of people, but Kate realized the recipient of her smile. The older woman returned her gaze to Amelia, giving her an appraising glance that made her smile fade.
“Your relationship with Quinn is not strictly business,” Kate said baldy, a statement rather than a question.
She didn’t know how to respond. Even if she’d had an idea of what to say, her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Kate stared into her eyes, and whatever she saw there made her frown. She opened her mouth, but the arrival of James and Cal silenced her.
“What are you lovely ladies discussing?” Cal asked, his voice light and teasing.
Saika’s daughter, Valerie, was perched on his shoulders, still dressed in the pink tutu from her dance recital. It was obvious he loved spending time with her, and the little girl clearly felt the same way about him.
Kate looked toward Amelia before answering her youngest son. “We were chatting about Amelia’s progress on the new accessories.”
“Are you going to have something to show us soon?” Cal asked.
Amelia nodded. “Soon,” she promised.
James hadn’t said anything, and Amelia took the opportunity to study him. It was obvious he’d been ill. His skin carried the strange yellowish-gray pallor common with cancer patients. Even though it was apparent he wasn’t well, it also was obvious he had been an extremely handsome man. He was still handsome, but illness overshadowed his good looks.
James’s gaze fell on Amelia, and she was embarrassed she’d been caught staring. His lips curled up, a duplicate of Quinn’s enticing smile.
“And how do you think Riley O’Brien & Co. customers will respond to your accessories, Amelia?” James asked.
“At the very least, I hope they’re going to like them,” she answered. “But I really want them to love them.”
She knew James had little or no interest in the women’s division, but she didn’t know why. Was he sexist?
Given the way he treated his wife and daughter, she couldn’t imagine he was. It was obvious Kate and Teagan were strong women who wouldn’t put up with any kind of sexist behavior.
So what was behind James’s indifferent attitude toward the women’s division? And more important, did Quinn feel the same way? She had tried to bring up the subject several times with him, but she’d clearly been too subtle with her questioning because she still was in the dark.
Was it simply about tradition? Was James unwilling to embrace change? Perhaps he’d passed along his way of thinking to his oldest son along with his smile.
Either way, she needed to tell Quinn the truth about her project with Teagan. She’d become very adept at silencing her conscience, but she hadn’t been able to silence Ava Grace’s warning. It rang in her ears constantly, reminding her that it didn’t matter how she felt about Quinn as long as she continued to lie to him.
James’s derisive snort interrupted Amelia’s internal musings. “The fashion world is fickle,” he noted with a frown. “They might love you today and hate you tomorrow.”
Unfortunately, he was right. That’s why she was so determined to become a brand that extended beyond a pair of boots or a stylish bag. Her boutiques would play a huge role in the creation of that brand, cementing her as more than a trend.
She nodded. “I know. It can be ugly.”
Suddenly, Cal yelped, and Amelia glanced up to see Valerie’s tiny fingers twisted in his dark hair. The little girl giggled.
“Sorry, Cal,” she said.
He patted Valerie’s leg. “It’s okay, ballerina. Do you want down? The game’s starting again.”
Valerie’s high-pitched squeal made everyone laugh, and Cal carefully plucked her off his shoulders and placed her on the ground. She did a quick pirouette before running to the glass to look down onto the field.
Amelia took advantage of the break in conversation to excuse herself. She had planned to run to the bathroom during halftime, but Kate had distracted her.
She swiftly made her way toward the ladies’ room. It was quite a walk from the Riley O’Brien & Co. suite. She followed a sign directing her down a long hallway, feeling like a rat in a maze.
The hallway dead-ended, and Amelia realized she was lost. She turned toward the right but came to an abrupt stop when she saw who was there.
Teagan and Nick Priest were wrapped in each other’s arms, totally oblivious to the rest of the world. He had her backed up against the wall, his hands clenched in her dark hair, and his mouth devouring hers. She was kissing him back, her hands tightly gripping his lean waist.
Blood rushed into Amelia’s face. She had never seen such a passionate embrace except on television, specifically daytime TV. She felt like a voyeur, and she tried to back up as quietly as her boots would let her.
She hesitated when she heard Teagan’s voice. It was thick with a bitter mix of tears and anger.
“Stop, Nick!” Teagan exclaimed.
Amelia was suddenly unsure about what she had interrupted, and she decided to stay put in case things got ugly. She didn’t think Nick was dangerous, but there were some men who took what they wanted regardless of what their partners were willing to give.
“I told you to leave me alone,” Teagan continued, her voice climbing in volume and intensity. “No! Don’t touch me!”
Amelia stomped her foot, making a loud cracking noise on the tile floor. Nick jerked back from Teagan, dropping his hands from her head, and they turned to seek out the source of the noise.
She swallowed when she saw their faces. Obviously, something had gone terribly wrong between the two of them. Teagan’s eyes were bright with tears, and Nick’s visage was etched with such misery she had to avert her gaze.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Teagan push Nick away and rush toward Amelia. Tears had escaped Teagan’s eyes, and they rolled down her cheeks, leaving shiny tracks on her smooth skin.
“Please, please, don’t tell anyone about this,” she begged, grabbing Amelia’s hand.
Amelia had no idea what “this” was, exactly, but she made a soothing noise to calm the other woman. “I won’t, Teagan. I promise.”
Swiping her fingers under her eyes, Teagan tossed one last glance toward Nick before hurrying away, leaving him and Amelia alone in the secluded hallway. He leaned back against the wall and tilted his head to look up at the ceiling. Sighing loudly, he ran his hands over his face before turning his head to look at her.
She debated what to do. Should she just walk away? Offer him a shoulder to cry on?
“What’s going on, Nick?”
Shaking his head, he straightened to his full height and walked toward her. He stopped when he reached her side, looming over her.
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Not your problem,” he said gruffly.
“But it is a problem?” she persisted.
He stared at her, his light green eyes glowing against his tan skin and his wheat-colored hair gleaming under the overhead lights. All that gorgeousness took a backseat to his obvious emotional distress.
He nodded curtly before he strode away, leaving Amelia in the hallway, lost in more ways than one.
Chapter 28
“Do you own this plane?”
Quinn leaned back in the aircraft’s leather seat and propped his foot on his knee. Amelia sat across from him, belted in and ready for takeoff.
“Me personally? Just how rich do you think I am?” he teased, enjoying the color that surged into her face.
He loved to make Amelia blush, and he’d already figured out the easiest path to cherry-red cheeks. All he had to do was tell her exactly what he planned to do with his body and hers the next time they were naked. It worked every time.
Shifting in his seat, he gave his overstimulated body a mental directive to calm down. If he wasn’t inside Amelia’s lush body, he was thinking about how soon he could get there. It was ridiculous how much he wanted her.
“I doubt your bank balance could be any bigger than your sense of self-importance,” she responded. Her tone was mild, but her eyes shot sparks at him.
He laughed but decided to answer her question before she kicked him with her pointy-toed boots. “I don’t own the plane, and neither does Riley O’Brien & Co. It’s kind of complicated. We lease the jet for a defined number of flying hours and share it with other people and companies that do the same thing.”
She nodded. “Like a timeshare in Florida.”
“Yes, but we’re guaranteed access to the plane anytime we need it.”
“That explains why you don’t fly coach.”
“Hell, I’d rather walk than fly coach,” he said, not entirely joking.
In his opinion, “coach” was another word for “torture.” He didn’t even like to fly first class on a commercial flight.
Amelia blew a coppery curl away from her mouth. “You are so spoiled. You know that, right?”
He shrugged. She was right, but he wasn’t going to apologize for who he was.
He knew he had been blessed in so many ways, and he was grateful. He also was smart enough to take advantage of the things that made life easier, and a private jet was one of them.
He arched an eyebrow. “If you want, you can get off this plane and fly coach to Georgia. I’ll just meet you there.”
She rolled her lips inward, and he could tell she was trying not to laugh. She waved her hand around the cabin.
“Since I’m already here, and you have plenty of room, I’ll keep you company during the long, boring flight. I’m sure we can find something to occupy us.”
He glanced at her alertly. That sounded like a sexual innuendo to him, and his cock twitched with eagerness. His thoughts must have been obvious on his face because she snickered.
“We can talk,” she clarified.
He gave an exaggerated groan as if talking with her for five hours would be painful. But privately, he was happy to have her to himself with no interruptions.
In fact, talking with Amelia now ranked as his favorite thing to do, even more than getting her naked. Every conversation with her started out with her being reserved and standoffish. But after a while, she stopped holding back.
He had realized she was a lot like his mom’s convection oven. She took some time to heat up, but once she did, it was worth it because she warmed from the inside out. He loved the moment when she finally gave him what he wanted: the real Amelia.
The one who was both sweet and tart and just a little bit quirky.
He used to roll his eyes when other couples claimed that they never ran out of things to talk about, but now he knew what they meant. He and Amelia always found something to discuss, and whether the conversation was silly or serious, he liked her more with every word that came out of her mouth.
She stimulated his brain as much as she stimulated his body. The two of them came from very different backgrounds, and her way of looking at things intrigued him so much that he found himself wanting to ask her opinion on a variety of subjects.
His thoughts were interrupted when the flight attendant delivered their drinks and told them the plane would take off in a couple of minutes. Nodding his thanks, he returned his attention to Amelia.
“What do you want to talk about, Juice?” he asked as the plane jerked and started to move forward.
“Once we’re in the air, I want to show you the designs I
’ve worked up for the new accessories.”
He nodded his agreement as the plane sped down the runway and lifted into the sunny sky. Once they achieved cruising altitude, Amelia unbuckled her seat belt and leaned down to grab her big leather bag, which she had placed under her seat.
The position gave him a great view of her breasts. They were accentuated by her blue V-neck sweater, and he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her creamy cleavage. He thought about sucking her sweet pink nipples, and his lips tingled.
Amelia cleared her throat, and he jerked his gaze back to her face. Her expression indicated that she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. He flushed when she gave his crotch a pointed look.
“Feeling a little overheated?” she asked archly.
He smiled slowly. “Are you sure you want to go down this path? Because I have no trouble telling you exactly what I’m feeling.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “You’re a terrible influence on me, Quinn O’Brien.”
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Except for when you screamed my name this morning when you came.”
He had expected that statement to get him a kick in the shin. Instead, Amelia’s plump lips tilted up, and her eyes turned dark and liquid.
“Which time?”
Her response shocked a laugh out of him. Maybe he was a terrible influence on her.
She stood and pulled a leather-covered folio out of her bag. Crossing the narrow aisle, she sat down next to him. She started to flip open the folio, but he placed his hand on hers.
“Seat belt, Juice.”
“There’s no turbulence,” she pointed out with a frown.
He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but something unexpected could happen while they were thirty-five thousand feet above the ground, and he didn’t want to take a chance with her safety. She was too important.
“I know. But just in case.”
With a shrug, she handed him the folio. While she buckled her seat belt, he opened the leather cover, flipped past the cover page, and examined the colorful sketch covering the next page.
His first thought was, Wow. The second was that Amelia was obviously very organized because she had included fabric and leather samples with the sketch so he could get an idea of texture and color.