Page 7 of The Lynx and the Llama
Having someone normal—someone who put pants on in place of ball gowns one leg at a time—was what she needed. Mainly because Erika was no Cinderella. There wasn’t a Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet now or ever—thank you very much! And all because she wasn’t a princess by birth. Sure, that didn’t matter! Carol hadn’t been a princess before she dated Rayan when he was a prince. Neither was Harriet. But come on! That type of stuff would never happen to Erika! She was as plain Jane as they came!
Also, there’d be no way she’d be marrying into the crown. She wasn’t as pretty as Carol or Harriet. She wasn’t as outgoing as either of them either. Carol was a perfect fun-sized ferret with gorgeous curves and pretty much the best social person to be around at a party. The woman made a conversation about folding laundry seem fun! Seriously, that was some major talent right there, and it was something that Erika lacked. Harriet was also just as pretty and just as fun.
Erika simply wasn’t royalty material in any of those aspects. Not that she’d particularly want that sort of thing! Because seriously? Why would she want to attract all the Diarist Author Milos Newspersons—DAMN for short—drama adding to her already complicated life? No. She was better off being behind the scenes and making sure the schedule for the people better equipped for the limelight was up to snuff.
Erika glanced at her smartwatch and noticed she’d managed to pass the time with all her daydreaming. Quinn’s flight would touch down any minute. Every fiber of her being tingled with excitement. She was looking forward to meeting a gal pal more like her, a commoner in the proverbial Aegean Sea of royalty she was surrounded by on a daily basis.
People started flooding her waiting area, and she knew Quinn would be among them. She stood with her sign reading “Quinn Taylor” and watched every female passenger walk by her without a second glance.
Did she miss the flight?
Ericka balanced the sign while digging in her purse for her cell phone. She wanted to scroll through it, checking for new emails. She was mid-dig at the bottom of her bag when she heard a deep, husky voice.
“I’m Quinn Taylor.”
Her hand ceased digging for the phone. She looked in the direction of the voice that dripped with sexiness and met a pair of silvery blue-grey eyes. The man’s smile was broad as he tapped the bridge of his black-horned-rimmed glasses on his nose. Erika opened her mouth to say “hello, Quinn,” or something else audible and intelligent, but nothing came from her lips. And how could it? All this time, she thought she would meet her next best friend, and instead… Instead, she was face to face with the sexiest guy on the planet, sporting a cocky smile. The nerve!
“You must be Erika Jean. I saw your picture in my file. Good thing too!” He swiped at his hair before he swallowed hard in front of her. Then he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. And damn it! Her eyes followed the gesture, and she noticed his rather large package in the groin area of the thick fabric.
Fuck! Why did I look? Squeeze those peepers shut, Jean! You don’t need to go there! Damn it! Now I’m going there. Why do you have to speak up now, inner diva? Why?
Thoughts of those powerful broad arms wrapping around her waist flooded her mind. Her stomach did a backflip as if that wasn’t a dead giveaway of her attraction to Quinn. And her nipples may have gone as hard as that cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
Fuck, indeed!
She flinched at her thoughts and almost shut her eyes, but then that sexy voice started again. All Erika did was arch her back, thrusting her small assets in the direction of that succulent, god-like voice. Why was she fawning over this guy? Sure, he was—pardon the pun—a Greek god. But come on! She had to be smart about this.
“I almost missed the sign with my name on it.”
His eyes widened as she opened her mouth again and nothing intelligent came out again. How had this happened? A whimper came out instead of a sentence.
Ugh! Good show, Jean! Good show! WTF is happening to me right now? Surely I will die of embarrassment.
“I am talking to the right person—right? You are Erika Jean, and you are picking up Quinn Taylor, the new Bonafide Security Personnel?”
His lips parted slightly, and all Erika could think about was putting her mouth over them. She visibly licked hers as she watched his part in a similar fashion that made her panties wet and her mouth dry all at once.
Shit!
She bit her bottom lip to squelch a moan.
WTF am I doing?
This couldn’t be happening! It couldn’t! Not to her! Erika had always been on the ball. Never once had she lusted after a guy and put him before her job—never! And now she was doing it with a guy that had surprised the shit out of her?
Because damn it! She’d thought about supposedly meeting her best gal pal right now! The one who was supposed to be the normal and the calm of her royalty storm! That wasn’t happening with this sexy guy with broad shoulders and an eight-pack—yeah, she looked! And sexy fuck-me glasses? Why did he have to own sexy fuck-me glasses? The kind she’d always dreamed of seeing on a man straddling her at her desk at work? Because, shit, that’s the only reason she wore sexy fuck-me glasses herself!
Again? WTF am I doing?
“Yes!” Her voice came out breathy and husky, and she instantly likened it to Meg Ryan’s inWhen Harry Met Sally.
Crap! Did I just agree to fuck him without actually having a consensual convo?
She cleared her throat in a horrible attempt to start over.
“You are Quinn Taylor? The new BS agent?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
