“You’ll never guess who stopped by.”
She told Mimi all about her encounter with Drew, and when she was finished, her friend was flabbergasted. “Did he come right out and threaten you in front of an FBI agent?”
“No,” she said. “He implied.”
“According to his calendar, he’s in L.A. checking out a couple of new restaurants. Guess that’s a lie.”
“What about Parsons? Have you seen him around the office?”
Mimi thought for a second. “Good old Rick Parsons is usually glued to Eileen’s side, but, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him all week. Could be longer. Eileen has been in the cafeteria for lunch every day this week, but Parsons hasn’t been with her. I’d remember if he was there. I could ask around.”
“No, I don’t want you asking questions. In that tight little community everything gets back to Eileen, right?”
“Right,” she agreed. “Parsons doesn’t come into the main building unless Eileen is here. He’s supposed to work in the plant. He’s one of the supervisors who doesn’t do diddly.”
“Drew takes care of his friends, doesn’t he? There’s no telling what he’s put him up to.”
“This is all my fault,” Mimi said. “Drew must have read that text I sent you before I erased it. That’s why he came to threaten you.”
“It’s okay. I told him you talked me out of suing. You might get another raise.”
As soon as the call ended, Peyton went into the living room to tell Finn what Mimi had to say, but he wasn’t there. She could hear water running and knew he was in the shower, which meant he was naked. Of course he was naked, she reasoned. He wouldn’t shower in his clothes.
“Don’t picture it. Don’t think about it. Don’t . . .” Saying it out loud didn’t make any difference. The second she heard the water running she envisioned gloriously na*ed Finn standing under the spray of water cascading down his muscular shoulders. He was just feet away from her. In her mind she saw the ripple of muscle across his chest, the curly dark hair that tapered just above his navel, and those thighs . . . those gorgeous thighs . . .
“Oh, for the love of . . .” She groaned as she turned around and walked back into her bedroom. “You just had to picture it,” she muttered to herself.
This sensation was new to her, and she didn’t like it one bit. So this was what sexual frustration felt like. Difficulty swallowing, rapid heartbeat, sweaty palms, and trembling all over. There was heat, too, heat in her belly. Some of these symptoms were signs of a heart attack, weren’t they? One way or another, she was probably going to keel over. Hot and bothered. Might as well add those to the list, too. She guessed she knew exactly what they meant now.
She was in trouble, all right. If just thinking about him na*ed aroused her, there was no hope. Was she doomed to a perpetual state of misery?
For Pete’s sake, why hadn’t he kissed her?
She sat on her bed and drew her knees up under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. She was able to force the foolish thoughts from her mind because the water wasn’t running any longer. Finn had clothes on by now. Turning her attention to the resort, she made a mental list of what needed to be done tomorrow. There would be several trades arriving. She would have to coordinate the electricians, plumbers, painters, and movers, but all in all, it wasn’t going to be too hectic. She had worked out a schedule for each of them.
Everything was organized and on track, and she was feeling pretty good until the phone started ringing. Four phone calls later she was in a state.
Her uncle Brian was the first to call. He wanted to talk to her about his little girl, Debi. He asked Peyton to let his sweet daughter be part of their exciting venture.
Little girl? She was thirty years old. And sweet? Was he serious? Peyton was surprised he could say “sweet” and “Debi” in the same sentence and not choke. Yes, he was her father and, yes, he loved her, but surely he could see what a shrew she was.
Peyton patiently explained that it wasn’t possible to include Debi. A contract had been drawn up and signed by all parties. It was a done deal. When she finally hung up from speaking to her uncle, she knew he wasn’t happy, but she thought at least the matter had been settled.
Ten minutes later, her father was on the line. When Uncle Brian didn’t get her cooperation, he had immediately called to complain about her. Peyton’s father wanted to keep peace in the family, and for that reason, he asked her to give Debi a chance. Peyton once again explained about the contract. She also reminded him that Debi had passed up the chance to run the California resort. According to her father, that was water under the bridge and they shouldn’t dwell on it. Despite his protest, she stood her ground, and she ended the conversation thinking, once again, the matter was settled.
Unfortunately, Uncle Brian wasn’t through campaigning for his daughter. He called once more and threatened—in loving uncle talk—to tell her uncle Leonard that she was being uncharitable. He would have to wait to speak to his brother because he was in Bali, but as soon as Len returned home, they would have a lengthy conversation about her attitude.
Peyton’s father was sick of hearing from his brother and wanted the matter resolved. At least that’s what he told Peyton when he called yet again. He pulled out several religious punches. It’s better to give than to receive, isn’t it? No, not always, Peyton silently answered. She should turn the other cheek with Debi. Why? she wondered. Yes, Debi could be difficult, he agreed, but in her defense, she was an only child and didn’t have sisters to show her the way. Peyton thought that was a lame argument. She knew plenty of people who were the only children in their families and they weren’t dysfunctional or spoiled; however, she didn’t say her thoughts aloud. She knew she’d be on the phone an hour if she debated the issue.
She could hear her mother in the background but couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“What does Mom want?”
Her father’s long, drawn-out sigh came through the phone. “Your mother wonders if you’ve met anyone down there.”
Peyton decided she had two choices. She could either start screaming or she could laugh. She chose humor. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy. I’ve got to go now.”
“Hold on,” her father insisted. “Do you know where Lucy is? Your uncle Brian has been trying to get ahold of her, but she isn’t answering her phone. Do you know why?”
She could tell him the truth, that Lucy was smarter than she was because she had looked at caller ID before answering. Lucy knew why Uncle Brian was phoning and didn’t want to argue with him. Her uncle wouldn’t give up, though. Lucy knew that, too.
“She probably went to bed. She put in a long day. I’m exhausted, too,” she added. “Love you, Dad. Night.”
Before the phone had a chance to ring again, she turned it off and plugged it in to the charger. Then she dropped down on the bed on her stomach and closed her eyes.
Finn stood in the doorway listening to Peyton mutter to herself. His gaze went to her long legs and slowly moved up to her sexy backside.
“Peyton? Mind if I come in?”
She rolled onto her side and gave him a disgruntled look. “Sure, come on in.”
“What were you doing?” he asked as he crossed the room and sat on the bed next to her.
“Having a moment.”
“Meaning?”
“I was contemplating the merits of being an orphan.”
“Ah,” he drawled. “I’m guessing Debi’s father called.”
“How did you know?”
“She promised to get him to call and make you change your mind. In fact, she screamed it as she was leaving. So, did you?”
“Did I what?”
His grin was devilish. “Change your mind.”
She was having trouble following the conversation. The man was a distraction. He was wearing a pair of faded navy shorts and nothing else. She wanted to stare at his massive chest, to run her palms down his hard, warm body, to kiss him everywhere, especially those amazing thighs . . .
“No,” she blurted. “I didn’t change my mind.”
Threading her fingers through her hair to give it some semblance of order, she sat up. One of the straps on her nightgown slipped down her arm, exposing a good deal of her breast. She adjusted the strap and waited for him to tell her why he had come into her bedroom.
She vowed she wouldn’t bring up the past. Every ounce of her wanted to ask, what is this? To tell him she didn’t know the rules and could he please explain them. They did have sex, didn’t they? She didn’t imagine it. But now he was acting as though they hadn’t. Was being blasé about it all the sophisticated way of behaving?
Having sex with her must have been a disappointment for him, she decided, and he didn’t want a repeat performance. That much was obvious to her because here she sat in her scanty nightgown, and he hadn’t even looked at her. In fact, he was staring at the top of her head, giving the impression he was bored. What were they supposed to be now? she wondered. Pals? Best buddies? Okay, then. If that’s what he wanted, that’s what he would get.
“Did you say something?” she asked. He nodded but remained silent. She nudged him. “Yes?” she prodded.
“I just got a call. Albertson is at the airport waiting to board the company jet. I’ve got a man watching him,” he explained. “So far, Albertson is the only one there. No Parsons.”
“Maybe he’s in Dalton, and Drew really did come here alone. When will I get my car back?”
He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Tomorrow, probably late afternoon.”
She didn’t ask if the technicians had found anything that would help them identify the shooter because Finn would have told her.
“How long are you staying?” she asked.
He stretched out on the bed and propped two pillows behind his back. “I don’t know yet. Ronan’s gonna need some help with a case pretty soon. This is a great mattress.”
She watched him stack his hands on his chest and close his eyes. “The mattress in your bedroom is identical. Go try it out.”
“I’m kinda comfortable here.”
“Listen, pal—”
“Pal?” he repeated, laughing.
He pulled her down beside him and held her close. She struggled to get up until he pushed her head down on his shoulder. “There, comfy now?”
Laughing, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Relaxing.”
She threw one leg over his hips. He blocked her knee before it slammed into his groin. Snuggling up against him, she yawned and asked, “Is the outside door locked?”
“Yeah.”
This was crazy, she thought. He should either kiss her or get out of her bed and go to his own. Yet, it was chilly and his body was wonderfully warm. She couldn’t resist the temptation and began to caress his chest with her fingertips. Finn put his hand on top of hers, keeping her still.
“Behave yourself and go to sleep.”
Finn had made up his mind that he and Peyton would talk about expectations before they had sex again. No messing around until she understood there couldn’t be a long-term relationship. Going forward would be up to her. Until the talk, he was going to be honorable and leave her the hell alone.
Easier said than done. He kept telling himself to get out of her bed and go into his own room, but his body wouldn’t move. He liked where he was too much, having her soft body cuddled next to him. Her intoxicating scent enveloped him, and he fell asleep content because she was in his arms.
Five more minutes, Peyton thought. That was all the time she would allow herself to stay with Finn, then she was going to get up and move to his bedroom. She’d never fall asleep with him in her bed. Okay, maybe ten more minutes. She felt so warm and safe next to him, she’d stay ten more minutes and then she’d leave. And that was her last thought before sleep claimed her.
In the middle of the night she awakened in the most peculiar position. Finn was spooning her, and she was rubbing against his arousal. His hands were under her nightgown cupping her breasts, his thumbs slowly rubbing her ni**les in the most erotic love play. His mouth was on her neck nuzzling her, and the moans she heard were coming from her. Her bikini panties were around her knees. Had she done that, or had he?
She kicked her panties off and moaned again when he slid his hand down between her thighs to caress her intimately. His finger pushed up inside her as his thumb stroked her, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to coming undone. She put her hand on top of his and held him there, moaning as she moved against him.
Finn was burning with desire. She was so hot and wet it made him crazed to have her. He left just long enough to seek protection and, when he slipped back into bed, he covered her body with his and gently kissed her lips, then her earlobes, then her neck. He rolled onto his back and lifted her on top of him.
Straddling him, she pulled her nightgown over her head and tried to ease him into her, but they were both so eager, they couldn’t go slowly. He thrust deep and gripped her hips.
“Don’t let me hurt you,” he said, his voice rough with his need.
Cupping the back of her neck with one hand, he pulled her down and kissed her. His mouth covered hers and his tongue delved inside to rub against hers. She tasted so good, so sweet. He showed her how he wanted her to move to enhance her pleasure. His hand slid down between them and he began to stroke the fire inside her.
When Peyton rotated her h*ps to move seductively against him, she felt a huge burst of raw ecstasy.
Finn knew he was going to cl**ax and wanted her there with him. He was rough when he rolled her onto her back, locked inside her. He increased the pace, his thrusts more uncontrolled, more frantic.
“Let go, Peyton,” he demanded.
He felt the first tremors of her release, and that triggered his own. His orgasm lasted longer this time and was more powerful, more all-consuming. It was blissfully shattering.
It took several moments for him to catch his breath and to slow his racing heartbeat. “Are you okay?” he whispered.
She didn’t need to speak. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.
They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. They would deal with the consequences tomorrow.
EIGHTEEN
The day started out to be quite pleasant, but it went downhill faster than a roller coaster. Peyton showered and dressed in white linen pants and a blue cotton sweater, then went into the kitchen. Finn had made breakfast for her. He kissed her good morning and pulled a chair out for her to sit. When he placed the plate in front of her, she wanted to bolt, but since that would hurt his feelings and definitely would be rude, she stayed put. He’d prepared scrambled eggs that looked and tasted like rubber, bacon that was so overcooked it shattered when she took a bite, and limp toast slathered in butter.
