2
“ J ust a man in the dark with a glass of whiskey and a good Cuban.” His voice was deep, sexy and goosebumps rose along my flesh. Not because I was cold either.
He still hadn’t answered me. “Where did you come from?” I challenged, feeling rather embarrassed remembering how I’d just touched myself and glad for the dark; it wouldn’t show my blush. Which pissed me off because I never blushed.
The red ember rose and I followed its movement until a man materialized from the shadows. I gasped when I could finally see him. He was everything I’d ever imagined a seductive, dangerous, mysterious, and deliciously sexy man would be. Had I conjured him up somehow? I wobbled on my way too high heels. His arm snaked out and grabbed my elbow, steadying me.
“I don’t need any help.” I snapped, perhaps a bit too harshly, but I didn’t pull from his grip. Heat spread up my arm from where he touched me. It was electric and keeping my frosty attitude was a challenge. However, I had a feeling this man would be very good at melting glaciers. A flurry of excitement grew deep inside me. He was so much taller than me; even on these killer heels that would bring me to about 5’10”, I still had to tip my head back. My hair tickled my back again, and I shivered.
He smiled, and I nearly died. He thought I was shivering for him!
Well, maybe in a way I was.
The man towered over me. The beam of light from inside seemed to spotlight us so I could see him better. He was jaw-dropping gorgeous. Sun-streaked shoulder length hair with wild waves and brilliant blue eyes in a deeply tanned face. My legs wobbled and I reached to steady myself, my fingers curling around his powerful forearm. The fine fabric of his suit was light, suitable for the Caribbean heat, yet I felt its lushness. He was one of the well-heeled guests and I hoped he had contributed to the cause.
His hand slid around to my back, grazing across my bare flesh, exposed in the low-backed gown I was wearing. His fingers were firm, hot, and promising as I felt them press into me. I wanted him in my bed.
Boom, just like that I had to have him. Even if only for a night before we both moved on to our own lives. I steadied myself and slid my fingers up to his bicep as his arm went around me. I didn’t want to uncurl my fingers from him and allowed myself the pleasure of his nearness for a few moments until regretfully, I stepped away and grabbed for the chair back...you know, just in case my knees wobbled again.
I swallowed, positive I’d asked him a question which I could no longer remember. He raised the cigar and puffed on it, keeping his gaze pinned on me. It was all I could do not to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“I’ve been here all along.” He had an accent...English? Irish? It was very mild and I couldn’t quite place it. Which was odd actually, because I was usually good with accents. Whatever it was, it was goddamned sexy, and I wanted to hear him speak more.
I licked my lips and realized I’d had way too much champagne. “Umm, all along? But I didn’t see you.” I willed my brain to work and not disconnect from my mouth and make me sound like a complete idiot.
“Then you weren’t looking very hard because I definitely saw you.” He leaned lower toward me and my heart jumped into high gear as I stared up into his eyes. “You have a way with your hands.”
“W-what?” I shook my head and then with crashing realization knew what he meant. “I, ah, was hot and needed to cool myself in the breeze.”
He chuckled and its low timbre reached right down deep inside me and had me twisted up in a knot. “It certainly raised my temperature. Truthfully, I enjoyed seeing you all hot and bothered.” His words were icing on the cake.
“Oh my,” I whispered and held my breath when heat flamed not only my cheeks but fired between my legs.
He grinned, and I nearly died. “You are a sight to behold out here in the moonlight. I could watch you touch yourself all night long.”
My eyes widened, and for the life of me I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled, and I locked my knees not wanting them to knock together. This man was sex on a stick and I wanted to lick him all over.
“Really, well, perhaps one day—” I clamped my mouth shut, realizing I was just about to say what I was thinking. He grinned as if he knew. That excited me and it was all I could do to keep my breathing normal, but there was nothing I could do when I felt my nipples pebble and heat rush low in my belly. I squinted at him, desperately needing to gather my thoughts and try to ignore the throbbing arousal taking hold of me. “Uhm, who are you?”
“You mean you don’t know all your guests by name?” He chided, and I bristled.
That struck a nerve. “Of course I know all my guests.”
“Then how is it you don’t know me?” His voice was low, and I had to lean in a bit to hear him.
Then I straightened my back, feeling I had to defend myself. Now rather than lick him all over, I itched to slap that cocky—and yes alluring—grin off his face. Instead I curled my hand into my chest, pressing my fist between my breasts. His gaze followed my movement and then lifted, the look in his eyes as he stared at me from under his brows searing me. I fought to keep my words firm and concise.
“You, sir, I don’t recognize, which means you are not on the guest list.” I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head to the side, waiting for him to speak.
He tipped his head back and burst out laughing. I cocked my hip and set my hand on it, unsure to be angry or laugh along with him to relieve the discomfort—and arousal—I felt in his company.
“Cork Shannon at your service, ma’am.” He took my hand off my hip, cradled it in the heat of his fingers, and bowed low. His lips whispered across the back of my hand and I swear to god I nearly swooned. It was the most gallant, erotic, passionate, sexy, geez I could go on, gesture that had ever happened to me. If he’d picked me up, tossed me over his shoulder like a caveman and carried me off to his nest of furs, I’d have not complained one iota.
He stood and still held my hand. I didn’t pull it away.
I gasped and quickly contained myself. Cork Shannon!
“I don’t remember your RSVP to the invitation.” He was a very rich man, a collector of all kinds of rare and precious things. A confirmed bachelor. A daredevil and a playboy with a string of bunnies always on his arm. I’d sent him an invitation, never expecting in a million years he would show up.
Yet here he was. In front of me. Holding my hand after kissing it. Making me crave him almost more than my antiques.
He nodded. “You are right on both accounts. I wasn’t sure where I would be today. As luck would have, here I am.” His smile was charming and he hitched his head toward the open doors. “I wasn’t going to miss this little soiree.”
“Why?” I screamed at myself to not look like a complete idiot. “I mean, why wouldn’t you want to miss this fundraiser?” I emphasize the words. “I don’t recall you having an interest in marine artifacts.”
“Ah, then another fail.” He smiled.
Oooh, this man was dangerous. Charming, sexy, confident, and gorgeous. It killed me I was enchanted by him and I had to fix that right now.
I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean ‘fail’.” He had a way of shifting my emotions all over the map. No one had ever been able to do that to me before and it was unnerving.
He stepped toward the open doors. “If you had done your homework correctly, little seahorse, you would know the answer to that.” He gave me a smoldering look that set me back on fire. His seductive smile made my muscles weak. Even though he’d successfully pissed me off, it didn’t quell the urge to crawl all over his body. He was rude and obnoxious and far too handsome and wealthy for his own good. He paused and looked at me; this time the cat really did have my tongue. His head lowered and I drew in a shaky breath almost ready to step into him and see what might happen. “This was very enjoyable and I hope we cross paths again.”
Oh, me too.
Then he was gone, leaving behind his unique scent mingled with a trace of cigar smoke on the sultry tropical air. He vanished into the crowd as I stood there for a fraction of a second, stunned. I rushed after him, looking for him. He would be easy to spot with his height and shock of sun-bleached hair. My heart sank when I couldn’t find him. He was gone. Poof. Like a puff of smoke. I let out a breath and glanced back out to the patio. Had I imagined the whole encounter?
I held up my hand and looked down at it. There was no trace of his kiss. No searing burn where his lips had touched me. Only the memory of the sensation. I put my other hand over where he had kissed, wanting to seal in the impression. Hold it tight to me. Until the next time. Because I knew with all my heart...there was going to be a next time. Oh yes, the elusive, frustrating, shiver inducing, devilishly sexy Mr. Cork Shannon had just become coordinates on my map. And I was going to find him.
Cork was bored. His only thrill this first night on the island, had been watching Daisy Savage touch herself on the patio. He knew almost everything about her and she was one of the main reasons he’d reserved a suite at the Tempest Isle. She intrigued him and he hadn’t expected to meet her so unexpectedly on the patio. It had surely been the highlight of the evening. An evening that he’d normally have avoided at all costs.
He sipped from the cut crystal glass, welcoming the fiery burn of the Irish whiskey. He smiled, and would’ve liked to see the look on her face when she saw the amount on the check he’d pushed to the bottom of that fantastic sea chest.
It was drawn from one of his subsidiary companies so it would remain a mystery to her unless the opportunity arose for him to make a reveal. Perhaps pillow talk. His cock twitched and he reached down to hold himself. He hadn’t wanted a woman in a while. Bored with them as well. They’d become too easy, all but falling at his feet, and while it had been thrilling when he was younger, now, it was annoying. He’d even grown bored with sex, now at almost thirty-four, and it wasn’t until the invitation to this soiree from Daisy Savage that something sparked in him.
He’d caused no end of commotion moving heaven and earth in order to be here. He’d become interested in marine artifacts over the last couple of years and was building his private collection. Daisy was just the person he needed to know. She had surprised the hell out of him when she’d walked out onto the patio. Seeing her seductive and seemingly innocent moves when she’d run her hands over her body, he’d nearly exploded. He supposed they’d find the broken back of the plastic chair he’d been gripping.
In those few minutes of watching her, it made him want her more than any treasured antiquity. He’d been with enough women to recognize the signals when a woman was interested. Even though Daisy tried to hide it, he knew she was. He liked that. It meant he’d have a bit of a chase. It wasn’t often women played hard to get.
The impending storm excited him, further proof he was bored. He was waiting for info about a possible cache of treasure on an island off North Carolina where he’d invested in a friend’s resort scheme. Maybe he could encourage Daisy to come along as well.
After he’d learned about this event fundraiser for the museum, he shifted things around so he could attend. The surprise had been the key in the display case. It was magnificent, and it would be a perfect acquisition for his collection. He downed the last of his drink. It was late and if he was lucky, he’d be able to sleep for a few hours.But Daisy and the key made it difficult.
Sleep.
Not even money could buy sleep. When you had too much money, too much time, and an excess of whatever your heart desired, it was easy to lose interest in life. So he looked for extremes the extremes. Something… anything to give him back the thrill he had long since lost.
Even women. He’d essentially given up the fairer sex and hadn’t missed them. There was no challenge anymore. They thought sex would lead to a forever after, which he’d made clear right away wouldn’t happen. The last thing he wanted was misconceptions. Sure he’d show them a good time, but he made it clear they weren’t to expect anything more. Most learned the hard way, leaving angry, with broken hearts and vows of eternal hatred.
Marriage. Commitment. Happily ever after.
That wasn’t him.
He knew he was damaged, or so he’d been told, and nothing made him want to fix himself. It was easier to ignore than try to change. Did he miss sex? The feel of a woman beneath him as he fucked her? Sure, but there was something missing in that too. Just like in most aspects of his life. Thirty-four years old, rich enough for three lifetimes and bored enough to not give a shit.
Except for the new excitement of marine archeology and artifacts. The risk of diving, going deep in order to discover treasures beneath the waves.
And Daisy was the key to that.
He wondered what Ms. Daisy Savage was doing now. They were both under that same star-filled night sky. Likely, she was fast asleep in bed. He could see her in his mind, snuggled down in the sheets, her long blond hair lying in satiny strands over the pillow. Was she alone? Had she found someone to relieve the ache he’d sensed in her? Or had she taken care of it on her own?
The flash of jealousy soured the whiskey he’d just downed when he thought of her with someone else. It shocked the hell out of him. He never felt jealousy. He didn’t try to not be jealous, he just never was. Nothing had ever held enough power over him for the emotion. This was entirely new and it rattled him. He sighed and stared at the sky in silence.
A shooting star streaked across and like a child he immediately wished upon it. Something he hadn’t done since he’d been a kid, holding his mum’s hand as they’d stood in the back garden of their little cottage by the sea. Ireland. His birthplace. Where he’d lost everything, before he got it all, and so much more, back again.