Private Parts

“But you’re casting a shadow.”

He didn’t blink.

Kendall slowly uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. She collected her briefcase and sauntered over to him. “Rest assured, Mr. Metaxas, I’m very, very good at what I do.”

“Troy. Please.”

She stood within breathing distance of him and she noticed the way he seemed to inhale her scent.

Hot. Definitely hot.

“As to why I, um, stayed behind after the meeting …” She allowed her gaze to skim over his tall, solid form. “Well, I won’t lie to you, Troy. Ever since we crossed paths this morning, before I knew who you were, I’ve been attracted to you.”

He cleared his throat, apparently not as unaffected by her presence as he’d like her to think. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Miss Banks.”

“Kendall, please.” She smiled. “And I don’t mix business with pleasure, either. My business is my pleasure.” She slid her free hand inside the lapel of his suit jacket, running her fingertips along the expensive material, and the back of her knuckles against his tight abs through his broadcloth shirt.

He inhaled sharply.

“And I happen to think that we can be as successful in the bedroom as in the boardroom …”

3

THE WOMAN WAS DOWNRIGHT distracting. And for the life of him, Troy couldn’t decipher whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Bad thing. Definitely a bad thing.

More than at any time in the past year, it was important for him to give his full attention to pulling this contract together. And thoughts of Kendall Banks’s long, long legs weren’t helping him do that.

To the contrary, they were inspiring him to think of a different business altogether. Monkey business.

“Would you like a cheese plate with dinner?”

“Huh?” Troy registered that he stood in the kitchen of the large Metaxas estate, and that Thekla Kalomiris, the housekeeper—who, along with her husband of thirty-five years, Frixos, took care of everything at the house and surrounding property—was talking to him.

He looked down at the cold beer bottle in his hand, barely remembering taking it out of the refrigerator.

“A cheese plate,” the Cypriot turned American citizen repeated. “Would you like one to go along with dinner tonight?”

He squinted at her.

“Roast lamb.”

“Ah. No. No, I don’t think that’s necessary, Miss Thekla. Thank you.”

He wandered into the connected dining room, looking out the French doors at the expansive deck that offered one of the most stunning views in Washington State.

“Long day,” Ari commented, coming to stand next to him.

“No longer than any other.”

“Come on. Even you have to be stressed after that meeting earlier.”

Ari turned toward the large table that could easily seat eighteen but was set for six tonight.

“Actually, I’m relieved.”

“Bullshit.”

This from another meeting attendee, Caleb Payne, who, in addition to being Philippidis’s ex-employee, was also dating Troy and Ari’s younger cousin Bryna, thus explaining his presence at a family dinner.

Caleb poured a finger of whiskey into a cut crystal glass and then took a long pull. “That despot is up to something. I know it.”

Troy held his gaze. “Well, if anyone would be familiar with the way Philippidis operates, it’s you, Caleb.” He raised his beer to him. “That’s why I like having you on this side of the table. If you spot anything unusual, speak up.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bryna said, taking the glass from Caleb’s hand and downing the remainder of the contents. “He will. I swear, it’s all he talks about lately. Nonstop. Even in bed.”

“Oh, TMI,” Ari said, raising his hand.

“I concur,” Troy agreed.

Bryna smiled widely, apparently having gotten in her daily jab that made the brothers cringe at how quickly she was growing up. More than a cousin, she was like their younger sister considering she’d been raised by their father after her parents died when she was twelve.

“What does TMI mean?” the elder Metaxas asked as he entered.

The four looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Never mind, Dad,” Ari said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for him. “Just another acronym that will be passé before you have a chance to commit it to memory.”

Percy Metaxas grimaced as he sat down. “Damn kids. Always reinventing the wheel.”

“Not reinventing, exactly,” Bryna said, taking the seat to his left. “Just adding a little oil every now and again.” She briefly squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you got great use out of your own oil can when you were our age.”

Percy’s grin was large. “Nothing that I can repeat in polite company.”

Troy considered his half-empty beer bottle and placed it on the bar. “Since when are any of us considered polite?”

Percy looked around the table. “Isn’t there someone missing?” Finally his gaze settled on Ari. “Where’s Elena?”

Troy tried to hide his frown as he took the seat to his father’s right. Would there ever come a time when he’d hear her name and not instantly remember what had happened six months ago?

He could only hope that his renewed business dealings with Philippidis would provide him that relief. Because it wasn’t doing him or his brother any good to continue to hold on to past grievances.

“She’ll, um, be here in a minute,” Ari said, taking a seat two up from Troy, leaving the one between them for his fiancée.

As if on cue, the woman in question hurried into the room. “Ari’s too much of a gentleman to share that I can’t seem to hold my liquor anymore.” She ran her elegant fingers over her swollen belly. “Sometimes it seems her favorite place is resting against my bladder.”

“His,” Ari said. “And what do you mean liquor?”

“She didn’t mean literally, cousin,” Bryna said, shooting him an eye roll. “Elena probably hasn’t tasted a drop of alcohol since she got pregnant. She loves that baby even more than she loves you, I think.”

Ari looked panicked where he held out a chair for Elena.

She laughed. “Impossible. I might be able to love our child as much as … but I could never love her more,” she said.

Ari appeared instantly relieved. “Him. You could never love him more.”

“Why don’t you two just find out the gender and be done with it?” Percy asked. “It was cute for the first five minutes, but it’s starting to irritate even me now.” His smile softened his words. “Besides, I’d like to know which sex my first grandchild is.”

“Sorry, Dad. You’re just going to have to wait like the rest of us,” Ari said.

Troy sat back, silently watching them interact. The roast leg of lamb was offered up with potatoes, with Bryna helping Miss Thekla serve. The cook refused to join them when they invited her to sit, as she did every time the invitation was extended. They all knew she preferred to take her meals with her husband in their suite of rooms just off the kitchen.

Everyone conversed easily, with Bryna touching Caleb’s sleeve every now and again, and Ari talking to the baby growing in Elena’s belly. The elder Metaxas seemed to enjoy dinner in a way that he hadn’t done since Troy’s mother had passed away. The more people that were added to the table, the happier he seemed to grow. And that afforded Troy a measure of relief that no number of successful business deals ever could.

For a time, he and Ari had been concerned that they hadn’t lost just one parent, but both, with Percy sinking into some sort of listless funk which none of them seemed capable of helping him out of. His interest in the family business waned, interaction with his two sons was rare outside his occasionally showing up at the dinner table, and Troy had worried that his only wish was to join his wife in the great hereafter.

Then, just before Troy and Ari had traveled to Greece, Percy was diagnosed with prostate cancer … and he’d decided not to be treated for it.

Troy understood that it was a viable option. That his cancer was slow growing and wasn’t likely to be the cause of the end of his life. But it had created enough of a scare for his two sons and niece.

Then a pregnant Elena had accepted Ari’s marriage proposal and was spending more and more time at the house. And Bryna had insisted that they accept Caleb even before he had crossed enemy lines.

And just like that, Percy Metaxas seemed to have found a new lease on life.

“You should have seen him,” Ari was saying, making Troy realize that he’d zoned out from the conversation. “His tongue was practically dragging on the floor.”

Troy narrowed his gaze, hoping his brother wasn’t talking about him.

“And then,” Bryna said, putting her hand on Caleb’s shoulder to pre-empt him from saying something first. “He completely forgot where he was. Ari had to remind him that there was a meeting he needed to conduct.”

Troy nearly choked on the lamb he was in the middle of swallowing.

Percy chuckled. “Troy? Our Troy? Impossible. No one is capable of throwing him off his game. Especially not a woman.”

“Oh, but this isn’t just any woman, Mr. Metaxas. This one—” Caleb’s words stopped as Bryna elbowed him in the ribs. He chuckled good-naturedly and put his arm around her, pulling her back against his front. “This one is tailor made for Troy.”

Ari chimed in, “Light to his dark, and just as tenacious.”

Tenacious? Troy wasn’t sure he’d use the word to describe Kendall Banks. He remembered the way she’d brushed the back of her knuckles against his taut stomach and grinned. Well, okay. It wasn’t the only word he’d use to describe her.

He blinked to find everyone staring at him.

“What?” he fairly croaked.

A heartbeat later, the entire table erupted in laughter at his expense.

And he joined in.

KENDALL REASONED THAT she probably should have gone home. It was nine-thirty on a Friday night and all was not well.

She sat in her room at the bed and breakfast, listening to the complete silence around her. Mrs. Foss, the owner, had long since disappeared to her own rooms downstairs, and it seemed the entire town had retired for the evening.

She supposed it would be a pretty good bet that the single pub on Main Street would have some business. But she couldn’t seem to generate any enthusiasm for a solo outing.

She squeezed lotion into her hand and rubbed it over her left leg, repeating the ritual with the other. She’d taken a shower and wore undies and a short pink robe her sister had gotten her last Christmas. She put the lotion bottle on the nightstand and sighed. She could always get dressed and drive home to Portland now. Spend the weekend doing the holiday shopping she still needed to see to. Lord knew nothing was going on here. Meetings were suspended until Monday.

And it was becoming increasingly clear that yummy Troy Metaxas intended to honor his belief that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, no matter how overtly she flirted with him.

She flopped back onto the mattress, twirling the robe’s silky belt around her finger.

Okay, so she wasn’t used to such rejection. Not that she got every man she set her sights on, but having to face that man every day took its toll on a girl.

She should have gone home.

She pushed up off the bed, looked for her slippers, couldn’t find them, then stepped to the door, quietly cracking it open. Caleb Payne was also staying in the bed-and-breakfast in the room at the end of the hall, but she hadn’t seen him come back yet. And guessed he might not, seeing as he and Bryna Metaxas seemed to have something hot and heavy going on.

Otherwise, the place was quiet and empty.

Padding silently down the hall and then the stairs, she wondered where Mrs. Foss had stored the homemade apple pie she’d offered her a piece of earlier. Just a small slice, she told herself. Something decadent to make up for the other decadent somethings she might have had if Troy wasn’t so damn stubborn.

She knew he wanted her. Saw it in his eyes every time their gazes met. So why was he fighting so hard? Why didn’t he just give in and enjoy what she was offering up? A little no-strings sex never hurt anybody. In fact, it usually helped.

Kendall certainly could use some right about now.

A floorboard in the foyer creaked under her foot. She made a face and tried to be a little more careful, staying just to the side of the well-traveled paths of the old house in the hopes that she wouldn’t run into another old board determined to give away her intentions.

The fanlight above the oven was on in the kitchen. And right there on top of the stove sat what she was looking for, covered in plastic wrap.

Oh, yes. A piece of apple pie would definitely hit the spot right now.

She quietly got out a dish and served herself up a helping, wondering if there was any ice cream to be had with it. Bingo! She took a carton of French vanilla from the freezer, scooped some out and then put it away.

Mmm …

Nothing was so good as a forbidden treat indulged in when nobody was looking.

She began padding her way back to her room, licking her fork, when a shadow appeared at the doorway.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized who it was. And it wasn’t Caleb. Rather it was a treat better than homemade apple pie, even with ice cream. Troy Metaxas …

4

HE SHOULDN’T HAVE COME.

Troy stood on the porch of Foss’s B and B just outside the arc of light created by the fixture over the door and considered his options. If he knocked, Mrs. Foss would very likely be the one to answer. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to face her this late on a Friday night.

The town as a whole had been surprised at best, mystified at worst when the Fosses had first decided to turn their six-bedroom house into a bed-and-breakfast about a decade ago. They had eight kids, all of who had moved out of town as soon as they came of age because their parents had been so overprotective they were barely allowed out of the yard until they were eighteen.

Then Mr. Foss had died and Mrs. Foss continued on, twice as miserable as before. While Troy ran into her only on the rare occasion, none of his encounters with her had been particularly pleasant. Partly because she blamed his family for the loss of her children to bigger cities after the shut-down of the lumber mill. Mostly because she was a bitch.

The thought of seeing her now seriously threatened whatever latent desires had brought him there in the first place.

He began to turn away when the door opened. He turned back, about to offer his apologies to the ornery old woman … and was instead presented with exactly the person who had haunted his dreams for the past three days.

Kendall.

“Hi,” she said simply.

“Hi.” He took her in from head to foot, thinking that she should wear that short, silky pink robe all the time. He’d have never been able to refuse her for as long as he had if he’d only seen this.

The deep V revealed that she wore no bra or camisole, her breasts soft, pale mounds. At least what he could see. What he couldn’t see, he could easily guess at as her nipples poked against the fabric, drawing attention to the darker, puckered skin there. The hem of the robe hit her at just below what was decent, if decent could be used to describe any part of the sexy-as-all-get-out woman in front of him.

She shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other, causing her robe to open. He caught a glimpse of the lacy crotch of her white panties and nearly groaned aloud.

“Is there a particular reason you stopped by on this chilly night?” she asked with a saucy smile.

Oh, there was a really good reason. And it was looking straight at him …

KENDALL HAD TROY EXACTLY where she wanted him: in her bedroom.

Well, all right. Maybe not exactly where she wanted him. Because that would put him right between her thighs.

All good things come to those who wait …

She licked her lips, tasting vanilla ice cream there. “Would you like some pie?” she asked.

He still stood just inside the room in his overcoat, his gaze darting toward the closed door.

“Don’t worry. Mrs. Foss sleeps like the dead.”

His grimace was altogether too handsome. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“You’re right. She’s probably listening to everything we say through a glass pressed to the wall.” She’d put her plate down on a small table near the window that was flanked by two wicker chairs. She sat in one and adjusted her robe a beat slower than she should have. So shoot her. She was enjoying his reaction to her wanton actions a little too much. Her panties were already dripping and the silk rasped against her übersensitive nipples, eliciting a wicked shiver.

“Please. I’ll share.”

He looked back at the closed door again, then finally sat down. He seemed to realize he was still wearing his coat and got back up to take it off, carefully folding it over the back of the chair before sitting down again.

The sign of a true bachelor.

She took a slow, sinful bite of the pie, humming as she did so. “As sour as Mrs. Foss is, she makes a sweet apple pie.”

“That’s because she doesn’t make it. Verna at the diner does.”

Kendall raised her brows. “Thanks for the insider info.” She smiled. “Does everyone know everyone else’s business here in Earnest?”

“Pretty much.”

She took another bite and pointed the fork in his direction. “So word will be all over about your visit then?”

“It will probably be on the front page of the Earnest Gazette. Along with a picture.”

“Above or below the fold?”

“The Gazette doesn’t have a fold. It’s more of a newsletter.”

She laughed as she held out a forkful of pie for him to take. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’ve eaten.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Good point.” He took the fork and put the bite in his mouth.

Kendall crossed her legs again, well aware that when she moved, the skimpy bottom of her robe bowed open. At least until she closed the flaps again. She watched him have difficulty swallowing.

“So, that means you might as well do what you came here to do then …” she led.

He squinted at her in the dim light cast by the table lamp. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

Oh, he was going to follow her all right. Right into that bed.

“Well, if you leave now, the headline will read, ‘Town Good Boy Stops in for a Quickie.’”

He began coughing. She handed him her glass of water.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So we might as well get our front page’s worth, don’t you think?”

TROY HAD NEVER MET A woman as forward … or as hot … as Kendall Banks. Which was just as well, because he was having a hell of a time trying to carry on a casual conversation with her looking like sin incarnate, an all too inviting bed two steps away.

He stood up. She stood up. He raised his hand to the side of her face, marveling at the mercurial green of her eyes. One moment, lime, the next, almost brown. His gaze fastened on her full lips. He rubbed his thumb against the plump pillow that was her bottom one and then touched the pad to his own tongue, tasting vanilla ice cream.

“Now, this is more like—”

He kissed her mid-sentence, and their teeth knocked together. He winced and watched as she did the same. She leaned in, nearly kneeing him in the groin. He tilted his head the same way she did, then moved the other way at the same time. He tried kissing her again … and got her nose when she looked down at where he was slightly standing on one of her bare toes.

Finally, he lifted his hands up in surrender. If he’d needed any more proof that this wasn’t a good idea, he’d just gotten it.

“Oh, don’t even consider it, buster,” she whispered.

She reached for his tie, loosened it and then took it off together. Then she worked on the first few buttons of his shirt before shoving him toward the bed. Luckily he landed on it, sitting on the edge, instead of on the floor.

Kendall slid her fingers under his chin, drawing his gaze to her eyes rather than to her breasts where they swayed against her robe, promising to come out to play.

“I think we can do better than that,” she murmured. “In fact, I know we can …”

She bent down, pressing her mouth against his.

Sweet Jesus, but she tasted good. Like spiced apples and one hundred percent female.

“Relax,” she whispered, pushing his shirt down over his arms without undoing the rest of the buttons, essentially trapping him in his own clothes. “You do know the meaning of the word, don’t you, Mr. Metaxas?”

Oh, he knew the meaning, all right. He was just having a hard time applying it to the immediate circumstances. His erection pressed almost painfully against the front of his pants. A very hard time.

The way his brother and friends talked, he figured he was probably the only man on earth who had never had a one-night stand. The only women he’d been intimate with he had dated. Usually for a couple of months before he even got to second base, much less third.

The thought that he hadn’t even taken Kendall out for coffee struck him as odd. As if what was happening were part of a dream instead of reality.

She pressed her fingers against his hard-on and he groaned.

This was so much better than any dream.

“Mmm. Told you,” she murmured, kissing him again.

“Told me what?”

She forced his shoulders back until he was half lying on the bed, his arms still pinned by his shirt. “Told you we could do this better.”

She stood, her gaze plastered to his as she toyed with the belt fastened around her waist. Then she slowly untied it, allowing the silky material of the robe to fall away, exposing a narrow slip of her nudeness down to the thin scrap of white cotton that was her panties.

Kendall curved her fingers so that they rested inside the lapels and slid them up and down, her knuckles grazing her own skin.

Hot. So very, very hot.

“If I’d have known you were coming I would have worn sexier panties.”

Troy forced a swallow down his impossibly tight throat. “I think what you have on is sexy enough.”

Who was he kidding? He nearly came merely looking at the way the cotton clung to her springy curls.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing the fabric to move back and forth. “Do you think so?”

Troy nodded several times, not trusting his voice.

Kendall smiled and popped one of her shoulders out of the robe, then the other, as she held the material over her breasts.

He groaned. He was grossly unprepared for any of this. He’d never even been to a strip joint, for God’s sake.

Okay, maybe he had gone once. But it had been for a business meeting and he’d barely looked at the girls on stage. At least until one of them stuck her perfectly rounded bottom into his face. He’d been so embarrassed he hadn’t known what to do, until his brother Ari handed him a five-dollar bill and indicated he should put it in her G-string.

He had. And the instant the stripper had moved away, Troy had called the meeting to an abrupt end.

Ari had teased him about that night for months afterward.

But Kendall … she was no strange stripper looking for a fiver to be tucked into her underpants. Although with her smoking body, she could easily qualify for the job.

She leaned over him, kissing him so thoroughly he forgot about G-strings and robes and just about everything else outside of his growing desire to be joined with her.

Now.

5

KENDALL HAD KNOWN HER share of guys. And while a couple of them had come close to Troy in the looks department, not a one could touch the passion that was written on every inch of him.

While she played at casual seduction, a deep, hot ball of wonderment began growing low in her belly. A sensation she wasn’t familiar with but intrigued her no end.