Page 9 of The Lynx and the Llama
She’d climbed into the driver’s side, and her scent filled the car. His cock tightened in his pants to the point he was wondering how he’d take his next breath. There was no doubt in his mind that he was attracted to her and she was just as attracted to him. But—and he hated to admit this—she was right. They couldn’t fool around as long as they were working together. Still, he wanted to be with her. Every fiber of his being sensed the electric heat vibrating between them.
What could be done?
The answer came to him like a bolt of genius lightning: he would use these next several days to convince her to go out with him on his last day on the islands. She’d given him that option when she’d said, “As long as we are working together.” As far as he was concerned, she’d left that door open, and he was so taking it!
“So, how long have you lived in British Columbia? You don’t seem to have an accent, so I’m curious.”
“I have little of any type of Canadian accent. Quebec the French-speaking province is on the other side of Canada. I bounced from home to home after my parents passed away so I didn’t stick around long enough in any home to develop local dialects.”
He swallowed hard because his mouth went dry. Sure, it was common knowledge to his boss and Stan that he was an orphan. But he had never openly admitted that to a complete stranger before. Why was it so easy to open up to Erika? Sure, she was hot as hell, but the physical attraction was all they had between them, right?
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories for you.”
“It happened a long time ago. It’s okay. But, yeah, that’s why I don’t have much of an accent.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You sound a little like Lear. Come to think of it—you also look a bit like him. Are you sure you don’t have any Greek heritage in you?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” he said with a quizzical tone. No one had ever asked him about his family history before. And frankly, after being taken prisoner by Zagan, he couldn’t answer the question with any certainty. He’d lost vast chunks of his memory when Zagan experimented on him—chunks he’d given up on trying to remember.
She met his gaze for only a moment and then turned her attention back to the road.
“It’s strange that you resemble him. Perhaps you should take one of those tests to figure out your heritage.”
“Perhaps. I didn’t think I looked like him at all. Well, at least according to the photo in the file, anyway. I’ve never met him in person.”
“Well, I see the resemblance. You have Lear’s cute smile.”
He glanced her way and noticed her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as her lips.
“Do I now?”
He noticed her jaw tightening along with her knuckles on the steering wheel and smiled.
“Mr. Taylor—”
“Quinn! Call me Quinn. I insist.”
“Fine, Quinn, I was serious before. If we are going to work together, nothing can happen between the two of us.”
“I remember what you said. But what if we aren’t working together? Your rule wouldn’t exactly apply—would it?”
She swallowed hard, and the color from her face seemed to drain visibly. How did this woman possess such responsiveness to him? She placed the car in Park and opened her door. He got out of his side and quickly ran to hers to help her out of the vehicle. She reached for his hand as if it was the most natural thing to do. As if they’d been doing it for years.
“Well, Erika?”
“I… guess my rule wouldn’t exactly apply.”
He smiled and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“Then give me these upcoming days to convince you to go out on a date with me. I know you live here, and my life is back in Canada, so I can’t promise you anything more than a date.”
She bit her lip before responding. “I don’t know, Quinn…”
“Please say yes! All you’re agreeing to is for me to convince you.”
“Well, when you put it that way—fine. You have less than a week to persuade me to go out with you.”
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