Brakes! Now!
She blinked, reconnecting with Filipe’s frowning gaze. ‘Look, if I finish tonight then I can get back to London a day sooner. I’ve got clients backing up that I really need to deal with...’ Was he caving? Maybe a tease would clinch it. She angled her head, smiling into his eyes. ‘Plus side: you get to not have me around tomorrow, messing up your schedules.’
His frown softened. ‘Fine! But please text me when you leave so I don’t spend the night worrying about you.’
She felt her heart softening. He could be such a grump, but he was kind to the marrow.
‘I promise.’
‘Okay.’ He nodded a smile then turned, fighting his way back through the plastic. ‘Goodnight, Quinn.’
‘’Night, Filipe.’
She listened to his boots crunching down the hall then pulled out her phone. Nothing more from Will. Her heart pinched. Stuck in Budapest when he should have been here, sharing this!
She tapped, setting her Miles Davis playlist going—Will’s favourite, growing on her too. She parked her phone, surveying the room to ‘Moon Dreams’, felt her mood lifting. This was nice work at least!
Finishing touches!
She felt a tingle, a smile coming. Maybe she could send Will a little video of the finished rooms, do her grandiose TV presenter impression to make him laugh. He’d like that.
She picked up her scissors, bending to the package again, but then her heart lurched. Footsteps—coming along the hallway. A heavy, purposeful stride. Filipe? Of course. She felt her breath flowing out on a wave of relief. He must have forgotten something.
She straightened. ‘Filipe? Is that you?’
‘No, it’s me!’
Her heart stopped, then vaulted. ‘Will!’
And then the plastic was rustling, parting, and he was appearing. He set a bag down on the floor, casual as anything, and then he was looking up, smiling. ‘Hello!’
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He looked so gorgeous—tanned, scrubbed...better than heaven. And she was in her oldest paint-spattered jeans and vest, wearing eau de fresh paint if she was lucky!
His eyes flicked to the scissors in her hand. ‘Are you going to put those down or are we reenacting The Shining?’
She felt the dam breaking, joy bursting. ‘What the hell, Will?’ And then, before she could think a single thought, the scissors were falling and she was launching herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck. ‘You came!’
‘Did you really think I wouldn’t?’ He was laughing into her ear, hugging her back, all warm and tight. ‘Like you said, milestone moment...’
She closed her eyes, breathing him in. It was so good to see him. But what was she supposed to do with all this leaping joy, all this love inside? How did she get from here to where she wanted to be?
She swallowed hard. ‘So it was all a ruse—late-night meetings?’
‘Yep! That was last. We got it all signed off this morning.’
‘So you thought you’d have a little fun?’ She felt her lips curving. ‘I hate you!’
He chuckled softly, his breath warming her ear. ‘Yeah, I’m kind of getting that.’
But he wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t disengaging, not even slightly. If anything, he was enfolding her more, pulling her closer. She could feel his muscled torso through his shirt, her body responding, her nipples hardening. Could he feel her—feel her heart beating, the bubble of happiness bursting, spreading inside her? Because something was changing, altering the air, the mood, the temperature. Definitely the temperature!
She felt a sudden, crushing desire to cry. Because the point was past now, wasn’t it, for stepping back as if there was nothing between them? It was long gone. Without a word. No more pretending. No more holding back. Too late now to step back into the spin of those doors. This was a sliding door moment, and she was sliding, for better or for worse. She could feel her hand moving to the back of his neck, her fingertips touching the hair they’d been itching to touch for months.
‘Oh, Quinn...’
His voice was low, urgent, wringing tears out of her, putting a crack in her own.
‘Don’t ask me to stop, Will, please...’ Because touching him was all she wanted to do. Skin. Hair—glorious hair...soft, thick, slipping between her fingers just so.
‘I’m not asking you to stop...’ He was breathing into her hair, nuzzling, his lips grazing her temple. ‘But I need to know...’ And then he was pulling back, taking her face into his hands, stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs. ‘Are you sure?’ His eyes were reaching in, drinking her in, as if he couldn’t get enough. ‘Because I can’t go down this road with you if you’re not sure...’ His expression tightened. ‘It would kill me, Quinn.’
She felt her heart giving, her whole body tightening and tingling to his touch as if she were an instrument he was playing. ‘I’m sure, Will. Please...’ She closed her hand around a fistful of hair, pulling him towards her a little. He resisted for a beat, the ghost of a smile on his face, and then he was coming for her, his lips taking hers, bold, confident. Such a perfect mouth! Such a perfect fit...so warm. She felt the scorching tease of his tongue and parted her lips, letting him in. She could feel her heart exploding, or maybe it was her pulse. She was liquid, melting, wet between her legs already. Could he feel it through her jeans because his hand was there now, as if he knew she needed just that.
‘Oh, Will...’ It was involuntary, from the depths of her. She felt her hands going for his shirt buttons, tearing at them until she was touching smooth, hot skin.
‘Quinn...’ His lips were on her neck now, his hands roaming, torturing her nipples, sliding down, cupping her butt, drawing her in hard against him. ‘Have you any idea how much I want you?’
She felt her breath coming in short bursts, a smile breaking. ‘I can feel it.’ Rigid along his considerable length, a length she couldn’t wait to unwrap. She went for his zip, just as he gripped the hem of her vest.
‘You first.’ His eyes were hazy, hooded. She did the honours, button, zip, then raised her arms so he could peel off her vest.
For a long moment his eyes gazed at her and then he leaned in, kissing her mouth again. ‘You blind me, Quinn.’ And then she was being lifted, swung up into his arms. ‘Do we have such a thing as a bed?’
She was trembling inside, weak with longing, lost in the warmth of him, the strength of him.
‘Yes, we have a bed. Super king-size, dressed to the nines!’
Quinn put her glass to her lips, eyes twinkling. ‘I didn’t anticipate christening the master suite quite like this...’
