Page 14 of The Lynx and the Llama
Admit nothing, Erika! Admit nothing!
“Don’t you gals have that look between you? Something that says he’s mine so back off?”
“Okay, first? I tried, but she wasn’t getting the hint. So how am I supposed to know there’s some kind of other gesture between girls?”
Crap! I opened the door there. Admit nothing more!
“Though I enjoyed your green-eyed monster, you are right. She didn’t understand it. Clearly, we have to work on your approach.”
His body pressed to hers now, and all that did was make her heart pound in her chest. She sucked in a breath as his hand cupped her cheek.
“See what I mean? You flinched.”
“Quinn, it isn’t like I’m in the dating circuit right now. Of course, I flinched!”
“Then we need to change that, and fast,” he said as he reached for her hands. This time she didn’t flinch, and as soon as his fingers laced hers, she felt the heat between them. She sucked in another breath and glanced his way. His eyes were locked on hers and seemed to want to burn into her soul, branding her in every way possible and making her feel totally and utterly naked.
“That’s a little better, but…”
Her eyes went to slits. She knew what Quinn would ask next but wasn’t ready for it. She needed liquid courage before she let him kiss her. Fuck this! Fuck her boss! Why was Rayan making her do this? She was just a secretary and not La Femme Nikita—another of her favorite binge-worthy shows. In fact, she wasn’t a FUC anything, so why was Rayan asking her to do this assignment? The thought alone made her miffed because this job wasn’t in her pay grade.
“There’s no way I’m letting you—”
Her words were blocked as Quinn pressed his lips to hers. It was a mix of heat and softness, and she almost melted. Almost. She would have if it weren’t for the fact that she was pissed. Erika placed a hand on his chest and put distance between them.
“Stop kissing me! We can appear to be a couple without that sexy side! Now you need to play my part, Taylor!”
“And what part is that?” he said as his arms coiled around her waist.
She let out a frustrated sigh. “I need a drink before any of this”—she motioned a hand between them—“can happen.”
And yet another shit-eating grin graced his face. “So you need a little liquid courage? I can understand why. You’ve been fucking me with your eyes since I first met you at the airport. It’s okay to admit you think I’m sexy.”
“You are a very conceited man. That won’t work for me. It’s a big turnoff.”
He let out a chuckle as they got off of the elevator. His room was right next to the elevator. As he opened the door to his suite, he placed his bag, carry-on, and suit in the entryway and then shut the door.
“Let’s head to the bar. What would you like? My treat,” he told her as they reboarded the elevator.
“Oh no you don’t! I can buy my own drink. I’m quite capable, thank you very much!” Erika said as they stepped out of the elevator car.
“And I’m sure you are, but seriously, please let me. Especially since the woman from the desk is at the bar and flirting with the bartender. I’m making it a personal goal to convince her we are a couple before you leave here to change for tonight.”
Erika let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I concede. But only because it’s a good idea.”
He placed a palm on the small of her back and guided her to the bar. Heat rushed straight to her core from the placement of his hand. She mentally yelled at him to cup her ass with each step, but his hand hadn’t budged. And probably because she had placed distance between them moments ago when he kissed her. Perhaps she’d made a mistake with that gesture. He pulled out a seat for her at the bar and slid into the one next to her.
“What would you like?”
“A glass of the house chard is fine.”
“Well, what do you know? We have something in common. I was going to order a glass of chardonnay myself.” That grin appeared on his face again and looked even more devastatingly sexy up-close. Electricity seemed to pulsate from his body, something she wasn’t completely aware of until he sat this close to her. “So let’s start with the basics. What’s your favorite place to visit?”
“Definitely not Paris.” She blurted that nugget out as Quinn ordered them a bottle of the regular house wine and handed the bartender his credit card. For the first time in her natural-born shifter life, she was glad to have the human alcohol in place of the high-test shifter variety. All the islands served human alcohol because of the tourists, and Marathi was no different. In fact, that was the first thing King Rayan insisted on when he began developing the island for his people. And that was fine with her because she was already committing verbal diarrhea, so she didn’t need a buzz to make her say even more stupid things.
“Strange. I thought all women wanted to visit the city of love.”
The bartender placed the wineglass in front of her, and she took a sip, desperate to stall a response. A tsunami of snarky retorts flooded her mind, but her lips betrayed her as she sat the glass down on the cocktail napkin.
