Quest Ramsey, she surmised, moved far differently from his brother, whose movements were bold and purpose-filled. He wasn’t slow, awkward, or uncertain, but smooth and relaxed. It was as though he had all the time in the world and the world was waiting on him.
In the golden light of the room, Mick could assess the package more clearly. County had called the twins chocolate-dipped, but Quest’s skin was flawless, even toned, and appeared as though he’d been doused in rich molasses. Even at a distance, she could tell his midnight hair was silky, but close cut so that it appeared as a mass of waves across his head. Still, it was his eyes that most captivated her. They were deep-set beneath the longest, straightest brows and fringed with even longer lashes. Those were lashes unfair for any man to have. A god indeed, she admitted.
Quest sat reclined in his chair. His massive hands rested along the arms as though he was waiting patiently for her to complete her assessment. When she smiled again, he couldn’t have been more stunned to feel his own heartbeat lose its steady rhythm in response.
“Michaela Sellars.” She saw fit to introduce herself then and watched as he grinned and nodded.
“Quest Ramsey,” was his soft reply.
Chapter 3
“Now that we have the intros out of the way,” Quest teased once the laughter had subsided between them, “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here?”
Mick shrugged a bit while sitting on the edge of the chair with her hands clasped in her lap. “Well, your brother already told me you were against having the book written. I’m sure you haven’t changed your mind?” she probed.
“I haven’t,” Quest confirmed with a slow shake of his head. “My brother tends to act first and ask questions…well, never,” he mused.
Mick smiled over the comment. “I enjoyed our talk. He really made me want to laugh.”
Quest couldn’t mask his surprise. “Made you want to laugh?” he parroted.
“It was so hard not burst into laughter. He was trying so hard not to offend me or upset me since the book was canceled,” she shared, shaking her head as she remembered. “I could tell that he was holding back a bit from being too forward or outspoken. He must’ve been quite the clown in school.”
Now Quest threw back his head and let loose a roar of laughter. “Quay would have a fit if he knew you felt that way.”
Mick’s eyes narrowed a tad. “Could you, um, elaborate on why?” she asked, trying to downplay how taken she was by the sound of his voice. His amusement only made him appear more gorgeous, if that were possible.
“My brother is the consummate Casanova,” Quest said, resting one hand against the cobalt blue shirt where it lay across his abdomen. “If you’ll excuse me for saying so, Ms. Sellars, the man’s been racking his brain trying to think of a way to get you into bed,” he confided.
Mick was stunned, but not by Quest’s candor. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “I can’t believe he was that taken by me.”
Quest’s easy expression faded to one of disbelief. At that point, it was his turn to assess her. Not that he’d stopped tracing and retracing her every dip and curve in his mind since she had visited his office earlier that day.
Upon first glance, he’d regarded her as being exceptionally short. Now he could tell that while she wasn’t exceedingly tall, she did have a nice height. Her legs had appeared shapely and well toned as though she frequently worked out. Thanks to her T-shirt’s capped sleeves, he could tell that her arms were just as well toned and a creamy brown color stretched all over her alluring figure. Seated across from her, he enjoyed the hypnotic tug of her eyes. The way they just slanted at the corners, the coolly engaging amber shade could easily be compared to that of some exotic tigress.
Once again, his gray stare settled to her mouth—a perfect rendering of the heart shape if he had ever seen one. The mole was perfectly, sensually positioned in the corner and rivaled her eyes for hypnotic power.
“I guess I’ll have to watch him when we have dinner tomorrow night,” Mick contemplated, having missed the set look on her guest’s face.
Quest blinked. “Yeah,” he acknowledged with a slow nod, “how long will you stay in Seattle?”
Mick sighed in a refreshing tone, while leaning back to survey the elegant comfort of the suite. “I hadn’t planned to stay long, but since the book is dead and this is such a lovely town, I’ve considered staying awhile longer.” She fixed him with a polite, expectant smile. “Any suggestions on where to go when I sightsee?”
“The museums, definitely,” Quest replied without hesitation. “We’ve got tons,” he boasted. “Five art museums, five cultural museums, and almost two hundred art galleries.”
“Wow,” Mick whispered, already contemplating what she’d like to see first. “I think I will make this a longer trip. Thanks for putting us in such a lovely place.”
Quest closed his eyes briefly while waving his hand. “It’s nothing, but I can always arrange to lengthen your stay in the hotel,” he offered.
“I have no idea how long I’ll be.”
Quest propped his index finger alongside his temple and traced the outline of her breasts heaving prominently against the glittering pair of lips emblazoned on her T-shirt. “I’ll arrange for you to stay as long as you like,” he decided in an absent tone and coolly looked away when she found him staring.
Quest discovered that without trying and without even subtly throwing herself at him—which women did so often it’d become second nature for him to spot—Michaela Sellars had him mesmerized. He didn’t even want to talk, he only wanted to hear her talk, he only wanted to watch her as she spoke.
“I should go,” he decided suddenly.
“But you just got here,” Mick blurted, scooting closer to the edge of her chair. Realizing her slip, she closed her eyes and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.
Quest smiled and shook his head, delighted by her appearance. The action had changed her features from lovely and sensual to adorable and childlike. The mix was incredible. Go, Quest, his conscience warned, and he agreed. It’d be a mistake to remain any longer when he’d already experienced such a powerful reaction to her.
“You look about ready to turn in,” he noted, grasping for the first excuse he could find.
Mick noticed her clothing and rolled her eyes. “I was about to get ready for dinner with my publisher,” she explained.
“Well then,” he conceded, waving his hand as though the decision was solidified.
Mick watched him sitting across from her with his fingers tapping against the cream fabric of his trousers. Slowly, she rose from her chair and her lips parted in surprise when he followed suit. Obviously, he’d been waiting for her to stand. Gorgeous and gallant, she observed silently. Don’t let him see you drool, Mick! Clearing her throat, she clapped her hands to her sides. “You never got to the point of your visit,” she reminded him.
By then, Quest had closed what distance remained between them. Mick could feel her lashes fluttering as a shiver kissed her bare arms in response to the sexy, midnight giant who stood so very close.
“I only wanted to apologize for wasting your time,” he said, his eyes appearing a darker shade of gray as they studied every inch of her face. “I have a lot of people in my family who never stop to consider consequences. I’m sorry you got caught up in it.”
“It’s okay,” Mick whispered, knowing she was watching him as though he were the cherry atop a sinfully rich sundae. Sadly, she was helpless to do anything to stop herself.
Quest stared down at her a few moments longer before urging her to accompany him to the door.
“Good night,” he said, his hand poised on the brass knob. He smiled, hearing the hushed quality of her voice when she returned the sentiment.
Mick watched him step out into the hall. Instead of closing the door, she studied him as he strolled to the elevator bay. As though sensing her eyes on him, Quest turned once the doors opened. He flashed her one last smile—an incredib
le smile. Michaela’s hand was resting against her thigh. She wriggled her fingers in some sort of awkward wave before disappearing back into her room.
County closed her eyes as she popped another succulent scallop into her mouth. “Mmm… I’ve always heard Seattle had the best seafood, but there’s nothing like tasting it for yourself,” she raved, this time helping herself to another spoonful of fish chowder.
“Mmm-hmm, it is somethin’ else.”
“I mean, I definitely plan to take a hearty doggie bag back to my room,” County decided.
Mick stirred her clam chowder with an idle hand. Clearly, her thoughts were miles away from the evening’s meal at the hotel restaurant where they dined.
“Isn’t the chowder rich?… Mick?” County called, still focused on her food. Finally, the silence from the opposite end of the table grabbed her attention. She didn’t waste time calling out to her friend again. County was more interested in observing then. She and Mick had been dining for almost an hour. In that time, Mick hadn’t uttered a single sarcastic or cynical remark. She barely tasted her food and spent much of the time staring off into the distance.
Finally, County pushed her plate aside and perched her hands along the edge of the table. “All right, spill it,” she ordered.
Mick blinked out of her daze and fixed County with a slight frown.
“Don’t even,” County urged with a brief hand wave. “I’ve been waiting—very patiently, I’m proud to say—for you to tell me about your meeting with the twins. Now, is your quiet, soft-spoken, and completely uncharacteristic demeanor a result of that meeting?”
Mick set her spoon aside and groaned in response.
“Damn, Mick,” County whined, “you haven’t even told me what they look like—just that they declined the book. At least give me one warm and fuzzy tidbit to take with me so I won’t feel the trip was a total waste.”
Mick’s expression remained solemn for a moment longer, and then she softened. “They looked like dreams,” she confided eventually. Surprise registered on County’s face, but she ignored it. “They’re well deserving of being called gods.”
County leaned back against her seat, rubbing her hands across the satiny sleeves of her coral V-neck hoodie, and listened.
“They’re exactly identical—like bookends,” Mick described, staring into the distance as though she were envisioning them then. “But when you look closer, you can see little differences in their physical appearance. Distinct differences everywhere else.”
“Oh, really?” County drawled, thoroughly intrigued by the emerging new aspect to her friend’s demeanor.
“Their eye colors are different,” Mick described while tugging at the three-quarter sleeve of the tan boatneck top she wore. “Quests’s eyes are this cool shade of gray that seems to darken at times. When he looks at you, it’s like he’s put all his attention on you and only you. Like what you’re saying is the most important thing in the world to him. His cologne is fantastic. I can’t place what it is, but it smells incredible and he’s got this deep dimple on the left side of his cheek…”
County was trying to keep her smile from growing wide. Clearly, her cynical best friend had been more impressed by Quest Ramsey. And the poor thing doesn’t even realize it! County mused.
“And he’s such a gentleman. So gallant.”
Now County was floored. Gallant? she repeated in her head, while folding her arms across her chest. She didn’t think Mick even had that word in her vocabulary when it came to describing a man. Especially not a man she’d just met.
“Sweetie, I have to admit this is surprising talk coming from you,” she admitted once Mick’s description of the twins had ended. “That must’ve been some meeting.”
Mick shrugged and reached for her spoon. “Actually, I only met Quest when he came to my hotel room. He wasn’t at the meeting,” she revealed coolly.
County’s mouth fell open. “Your hotel room?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Mick!” County raged and slammed her palms to the table. “You selfish wench.”
“What?” Mick whined, nervously recrossing her jean-clad legs beneath the table.
“You couldn’t come get me from my room, I guess?”
Mick smiled and shook her head. “I was just as surprised to see him and he didn’t even stay that long. I don’t even think it was fifteen minutes.”
County heard the disappointment in Mick’s voice and she could see it in her eyes. “He didn’t stay long, but he had quite an effect on you.”
“Stop, I know what you’re getting at, and it was nothing like that,” Mick insisted. “Quest Ramsey could easily make an impression on any woman,” she predicted.
“But no man’s ever made such an impression on you so quickly.”
Mick waved off County’s observation. “Forget it.”
“Oh well.” County sighed, leaning forward to resume her eating. “At least I’ll have your warm, fuzzy memories to take back when we leave.”
Mick pressed her lips together and prepared herself. “Um, actually I’ve decided to stay a little longer. Quest already offered to extend my stay.”
“Indefinitely?” County blurted, shaking her head when Mick shrugged her confirmation. “Damn, I should’ve sent my photo instead.”
“He was only trying to be kind, County,” Mick reasoned, giving a quick toss of her tousled curls. “I mean, it wasn’t like he was trying to stay in my room any longer than necessary or anything.”
“Still, Mick, for him to offer that, you must’ve made quite an impression of your own,” County decided.
Mick laughed softly. “Well, I guess that’s definitely true of Quaysar. He asked me out to dinner,” she said, peeking through the fringe of her lashes to judge her publisher’s reaction.
“Damn,” County grunted, stabbing a scallop with her fork when she heard Mick laughing. After a moment, she couldn’t resist joining in.
The remainder of their dinner continued with a lively conversation about the Ramsey brothers.
After dinner, Mick and County made plans to sightsee the next day. After saying their good nights in the lobby, Mick headed for the front desk.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the concierge greeted.
“Good evening, I’d like to find out about extending my stay. The name is Michaela Sellars, room 1930.”
The tall, middle-aged man was already entering the information into his desktop. “Sellars…ah! Yes, ma’am, that’s already been arranged.”
“It has?” Mick questioned, her brows connecting in a frown. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, ma’am, Mr. Ramsey lengthened your stay when he visited earlier.”
“He did?” she asked in a dumbfounded tone, barely taking note of the concierge’s curt nod. “He must’ve stopped by before he left.”
“Oh no, ma’am, he took care of it on his way in. Mr. Ramsey does much business here at the Sorenson. I recognized him the moment he greeted me here at the desk.”
Mick blinked and slowly backed away from the majestic cherry-wood desk. “Thank you,” she told the man and headed for the elevators.
On her way to the nineteenth floor, Mick thought about Quest Ramsey more sternly. Aside from the quiet charm and gallantry he exuded, he’d done little else to show any further interest—unlike his brother. Though Quaysar was no less gorgeous than his twin, he hadn’t ignited that “something” the way Quest had. What was that something? Mick asked herself. And how could she of all people be so impressed, infatuated by a man she’d only met with for fifteen minutes?
The next morning, Quest rapped on the door of his brother’s private office nestled within the depths of their top-floor dwelling. “Be sure to call and cancel out with Michaela this morning,” he told Quaysar, smiling coolly when the man looked up in confusion.
“I hadn’t planned to cancel out on her, Q,” Quay countered.
Quest’s gray eyes narrowed. “But you will,” he commanded softly, then flashed his b
rother a wink and left the room.
A grin spread across Quay’s face as he reclined in his office chair. Then he bolted up and went after his brother.
“Q?” he called, spotting Quest on his way down the hall. “What’s up, man?” he asked, when his brother turned. “What is this?” he added, though his black stare was narrowed as though he already had a good idea. “Q?” he called again when his twin was about to walk away. Finally Quest turned and waited.
“What’s up?” Quay probed, tilting his head just slightly while spreading his hands.
Quest pushed both hands into his sandalwood trousers and grimaced. “She’s sweet and you’re…up to no good. Leave her alone.”
“You went to see her, didn’t you?” Quay realized, stepping a bit closer. Quest didn’t reply, but his silence was confirmation enough. “Hmph,” Quay said, fixing his brother with a sly look. He’d always considered Quest far more selective than he when it came to choosing a woman.
Quaysar was pleased with looks, body, and all that was physical. Quest looked for more. Usually, he didn’t find the mental capacity to sustain his interest past three or four sexual encounters. Quay constantly criticized his brother for being too picky, but in his heart he knew Quest wanted more than a bed warmer. He wanted a woman who could accept him for who he was—a man who loved intensely, be he a multimillionaire, sought-after mogul or not. Moreover, he needed a woman who could understand the lengths he would go to in protecting those he loved.
“All right, Q, you gotta come clean now and tell me why you’re makin’ me cancel out on her.”
Quest rolled his eyes. “Just do it, Quay.”
“Uh-uh,” Quaysar argued, shaking his head as he pressed a hand to the lapel of his pin-striped suit coat. “You’re tellin’ me to skip a date with a very sweet, very luscious lady. You gotta give me a reason here, man.”
Quest fixed his brother with a look that Quaysar knew all too well. Satisfied that he had his answer, Quay shrugged and decided to drop it. Obviously, his twin was smitten. Getting him to admit that would be a chore within itself.
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