Sultry Nights

Kate had felt about sixteen and fled, praying that he hadn’t recognised her. And then, to add insult to injury, one of her friends had chosen that moment to relieve the contents of her stomach in a gutter nearby … She’d never forget the look on Tiarnan’s face, or his date’s, just before they’d disappeared into the darkened interior of a waiting chauffeur-driven car.

Bitter frustration at her weak and pathetic response to him burned her inside. Would his hold over her never diminish? And now she was imagining him here, walking towards her, up the steps. Coming closer. Desperation made her feel panicky. When would the world right itself and the real person be revealed? Someone else. Someone who wasn’t Tiarnan Quinn.

She was barely aware of the Hollywood actor speaking in awed tones beside her, but when he said the name Tiarnan Quinn everything seemed to zoom into focus and Kate’s heart stopped altogether. Reaction set in. It was him—and he was now on the stage, coming closer and closer, his eyes narrowed and intent on her.

Kate’s instinct where this man was concerned was always to run, as far and as fast as possible. And yet here and now she couldn’t. She was caught off guard, like a deer in the headlights. And alongside the very perverse wish that she could be facing anyone else—even sleazy Stephanides—was the familiar yearning, burning feeling she got whenever this man came near.

‘Kate.’ His voice was deep, achingly familiar, and it impacted on her somewhere vulnerable inside, where she felt her pulse jump and her heart start again. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

Somehow she found her voice—a voice. ‘Tiarnan … that was you?’

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. Kate had the strongest sensation that she’d been running from this man for a long time and now it was over. But in actual fact he’d caught her a long time ago. A wicked coil of something hot snaked through her belly even as she clamped down desperately on every emotion and any outward sign of his effect on her.

With a smooth move she didn’t see coming, Tiarnan came close and put his hands around her waist, thumbs disturbingly close to the undersides of her breasts. His touch was so shocking after years of avoiding any contact beyond the most perfunctory that she automatically put her hands out to steady herself, and found herself clasping his upper arms. Powerful muscles were evident underneath the expensive cloth of his suit. Her belly melted and she looked up helplessly, still stunned to be facing him like this. Shock was rendering her usual defences around him useless.

He was so tall; he’d always been one of the few men that she had to look up to, even in the highest of heels. He towered over her now, making her feel small, delicate. She was aware of every slow second passing, aware of their breaths, but she knew rationally that things were happening in real time, and that no one was aware of the undercurrents flowing between them. At least she hoped they weren’t.

‘I believe you owe me a kiss?’

This was said lightly, but Tiarnan’s grip on her waist was warm and firm, warning her not to try and run or shirk her duty. She nodded, feeling utterly bewildered; what else could she do in front of the wealthiest, most powerful people in San Francisco? How much had he paid in the end? She’d forgotten already. But it had been a shockingly high amount. Half a million dollars? She had the very strong feeling that he was claiming far more than a kiss, and that coil of heat burned fiercer within her.

He pulled her closer, until their bodies were almost touching, and all Kate could feel was that heat—within her and around her. It climbed up her chest and into her face as Tiarnan’s head lowered. Overwhelmed at being ambushed like this, and feeling very bewildered, Kate fluttered her eyes closed as the man she’d failed so abysmally to erase from her memory banks pressed his firm, sensual mouth against hers. It had been ten years since they’d kissed like this, and suddenly Kate was eighteen again, pressing her lips ardently against his …

Kate put a shaky finger to her mouth, which still felt sensitive. As kisses went it had been chaste enough, fleeting enough, but the effect had been pure devastation. She’d been hurtled back in time and Pandora’s Box was now wide open. A flare of guilt assailed her; she’d fled the thronged ballroom as soon as she’d had the chance.

They’d been grabbed for photos with the press pack behind the stage straight after Tiarnan had claimed his kiss. Dizzy with the after-effects, she’d stood there smiling inanely. His hand had been warm on her elbow, his presence overwhelming. It was still a complete mystery to her as to why he was here at all, but she hadn’t even had the wherewithal to stick around and make small talk. She’d run. Exactly like that night in New York on the street.

Bitter recrimination burned her. She was falling apart every time she saw him now, and if she’d not already made an ass of herself in France, mooning at him like a lovesick groupie, then tonight would certainly have him wondering what on earth was wrong with her. How was it possible that instead of growing immune to him she was growing ever more aware of him? Where was the law of physics in that?

She’d fled, not really thinking about where she was going, and now she realised that she was in the hotel bar, with its floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a glittering view of downtown San Francisco in all its night-time vibrancy. The sound of a siren wailing somewhere nearby failed to root her in reality. The bar was blissfully dark and quiet. A pianist played soothing jazz in the corner. Kate took a seat at a table by the window. After a few minutes someone approached her. She looked up, thinking it would be the waiter, but it was a stranger—a man. He was wearing a suit and looked a little the worse for wear.

‘Excuse me, but me and my buddies—’ he gestured behind him to two other men in crumpled suits at the bar, who waved cheerfully ‘—we’re all agreed that you’re the prettiest woman we’ve ever seen. Can we buy you a drink?’

Kate smiled tightly, her nerve ends jangling. ‘Thanks, really … but if you don’t mind I’m happy to get my own drink.’

He swayed unsteadily, with a look of affront on his face, before lurching back to his friends. Then she saw one of the other men make a move towards her, as if taking up the baton. She cursed her impulse to come here, and turned her face resolutely to the window, hoping that would deter him.

She heard a movement, a deep voice, and then a looming dark shape materialised in the glass. She looked up and saw the face of her dreams reflected above her own. Disembodied. Throat dry, she looked round and up. Tiarnan stood there, looking straight at her, eyes like blue shards of ice against his dark skin. Her heart leapt; her palms dampened.

A waitress appeared next to him, and when she asked if they’d like a drink Tiarnan just looked at Kate and said, ‘Two Irish whiskeys?’

Kate nodded helplessly, and watched as Tiarnan took the seat opposite her, undoing his bow tie as he did so and opening the top button on his shirt with easy insouciance. His voice, that distinctive accent with its unmistakable Irish roots, affected her somewhere deep inside. It was a connection they shared—both being half Irish and brought up in Ireland.

He jerked his head back towards the men sitting at the bar. ‘You could have sent me packing too. They must be devastated.’

A dart of irritation and anger sparked through Kate at Tiarnan, for being here and upsetting her equilibrium. Her voice came out tight. ‘I know you. I don’t know them.’

His brow quirked. A hint of a smile played around his mouth. Kate felt very exposed in her strapless dress. Her breasts felt full against the bodice. She strove for calm, to be polite, urbane. This was her best friend’s brother, that was all. They’d bumped into each other. That was all. On the surface of things. She wouldn’t think about what was happening under the surface, the minefield of history that lay buried there. She smiled, but it felt brittle.

‘What brings you to San Francisco, Tiarnan?’

Tiarnan’s eyes narrowed. He could see very well that Kate was retreating into that cool shell he knew so well. The shell that for years had deflected his attention, made him believe she didn’t desire him. But he knew better now, and he saw the pulse under the pale skin of her neck beat hectically even as she projected a front so glacial he could swear the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

He fought the urge to say, You, and instead drawled, ‘Business. Sorcha mentioned you were here for the annual Buchanen Cancer benefit.’ He shrugged easily deciding not to divulge the fact that he’d specifically booked into the same hotel as her. ‘I’m staying here too, so I thought I’d come look for you. It would appear that I found you just in time.’

A vision of being kissed and groped by Stavros Stephanides came back into Kate’s head. She lowered her head slightly. Some hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She longed for something to cover herself up, and berated herself for not going straight to her room. What had compelled her to come here? She forced herself to look up. She couldn’t go anywhere now.

‘Yes. I never thanked you for that.’ And then curiosity got the better of her. ‘How much did you pay in the end?’

‘You don’t remember?

Kate burned as she shook her head, knowing very well why she didn’t remember.

He seemed to savour his words. ‘Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And worth every cent.’

It would be. Tiarnan watched her reaction, the shock on her beautiful face, those amazing blue eyes framed with the longest black lashes. Saw the way the candlelight flickered over her satin smooth skin, the slope of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts above the dress. His body hardened and Tiarnan shifted, uncomfortably aware that he wasn’t used to women having such an immediate effect on him. He enjoyed always being in control, and yet he could already feel that control becoming a little shaky, elusive … Sitting here with Kate now, the thrill of anticipation was headier than anything he’d felt in a long time.

He’d paid over half a million dollars, just like that. The amount staggered Kate, and yet she knew to Tiarnan it was like small change. That was a fraction of what he gave to charity every year.

‘At least it’s for a good cause,’ she said a little shakily.

The waitress arrived then, with two glasses. She placed napkins down, and then the drinks, and left.

Tiarnan reached out a strong, long-fingered hand and raised his glass towards her, an enigmatic gleam in his eyes. ‘A very good cause.’

Kate raised her glass too and clinked it off his. She had the very disturbing impression that they weren’t talking about the same thing. Just then his fingers touched hers, and a memory flashed into her head: her arms wrapped tight around his neck, tongues touching and tasting. Tiarnan’s hands moving to her buttocks, pulling her in tight so she could feel the thrillingly hard ridge of his arousal. She could almost hear their heartbeats, slow and heavy, then picking up pace, drowning out their breathing—

Kate jerked her hand back so quickly that some of her drink slopped out of the glass. Her skin felt stretched tight, hot. She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like her worst nightmare and her most fervent dream.

She took a quick sip, all the while watching Tiarnan as he watched her, hoping that he couldn’t read the turmoil in her head, in her chest. The whiskey trickled like liquid velvet down her throat. She wasn’t used to this, that was all. Tiarnan didn’t seek her out. She only ever saw him with Sorcha, or when lots of people were around. When Sorcha had lived with her in New York and Tiarnan had called round or invited them out to dinner Kate had always made an excuse, always made sure she wasn’t there as much as possible.

But facing him now … that kiss earlier … She was helpless to escape the images threatening to burst through the walls she’d placed around them. Tiarnan leant back, stretching out his long legs, cradling his glass as if this were completely normal, as if they met like this all the time. The latent strength in his body was like a tangible thing.

Kate had to close her eyes for a second as she battled against a vision of him pulling back from kissing her, breathing harshly—

‘So, Kate, how have you been?’

Her eyes snapped open. What was wrong with her? Normally she managed to keep all this under control, but it was almost as if some silent communication was going on that she knew nothing about—something subversive that she was not in control of, messing with her head. She’d never been so tense. But she told herself she could do this—do the small-talk thing. And after this drink she’d make her excuses and get up and walk away—not see Tiarnan for another few months, or even a year if she was lucky.

So she nodded her head and smiled her most professional smile, injecting breeziness into her voice. ‘Fine. Great! Wasn’t Molly’s christening just gorgeous? I can’t believe how big she is already. Sorcha and Romain are so happy. Have you seen them since? I’ve been crazy busy. I had to go to South America straight after the baptism. I got back a few days ago and I flew in tonight for the benefit—’

She took a deep, audibly shaky breath, intending to keep going with her monologue, thinking Just talk fast and get out of here even faster, when Tiarnan leant forward and said with quiet emphasis, ‘Kate—stop.’

CHAPTER TWO

KATE’S mouth opened and closed. With just those two words she knew that he was seeing right through her—again. Silly tears pricked the backs of her eyes. He was playing with her, mocking her for her weakness, as if he’d known all along. So she asked the question, even though she knew it would give her away completely,

‘Tiarnan, what are you really doing here?’

His face was shuttered, eyes unreadable. The dim lights cast him half in shadow, making him look dark and dangerous. Like a Spanish pirate. His shoulders looked huge. Kate’s insides ached as only the way a body recognising its mate ached. Its other half.

Her soft mouth compressed. She’d tried to tell herself that what had happened between them hadn’t been unique, hadn’t been as earth-shattering as she remembered, but … it had. Since that night, no one had ever kissed her the way he had—with such devastating skill that she’d never been able to get over him. He’d imprinted himself so deeply into her cells. Just one kiss, a mere moment, that was all it had been, but it had been enough.

She repeated the question now, a throb of desperation mixed with anger in her voice, even leaned forward, put her glass down. She wanted to shout at him to just leave her alone, let her get on with her life so she could realise her dream: find someone to love. Have a family. Finally get over him.

‘What are you doing here, Tiarnan? We both know—’

‘We both know why I’m here.’ His voice was harsh. The piano player was between numbers, and the words hung almost accusingly in the soft silence. Time seemed to hang suspended, and then the piano player started again and so did Kate’s heart, and she desperately tried to claw back some self control and pretend that he wasn’t referring to that night.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Tiarnan took a swift drink and leaned forward to put his empty glass down on the table. The sound made Kate flinch inside.

‘You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. That explicit look you gave me in France, and what didn’t happen that night.’

Oh, God. Kate felt the colour drain from her face. She was officially in her worst nightmare. She knew he’d seen her weakness in France—but she just hadn’t been able to hide it. And if Tiarnan Quinn was known for anything, it was for sensing weakness and exploiting it ruthlessly.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, even though it was hard, and her voice came out low and husky. ‘That night was a long time ago—and you’re right. Nothing happened—’ She stopped ineffectually. What could she say? If you’re thinking if I still want you, even after a humiliating rejection, then you’re right. Bitterness rose within her.

He was still sitting forward—predatory, dangerous. He said softly, in that deep voice, ‘I’d call that kiss something happening, and that look told me that you’ve been just as aware of this build-up of sexual tension as I have.’

Kate shook her head fiercely, as if that could negate this whole experience. Shame coursed through her again at her youthful naivety, and yet her body tingled even now, when humiliation hung over her like the Sword of Damocles.

Why was he bringing this up now? Was he bored? Did he think he’d seen an invitation in her eyes that day at the christening? She burned inside at the thought and rushed to try and fill the silence, the gap, to regain some dignity.

‘Tiarnan, like I said, it was a long time ago. I barely remember it, and I’ve no intention of ever talking about it or repeating the experience. I was very young.’

And a virgin. That unwanted spiking of regret shocked Tiarnan again, and suddenly the thought of other men looking at her, touching her, made him feel almost violent …

He said nothing for a long moment. He couldn’t actually speak as he looked into clear blue eyes not dissimilar to his own. They were like drops of ice but they couldn’t cool him down. Tiarnan fought the urge to reach across the table and pull her up, crush her mouth under his, taste her again. Instead he finally said, ‘You’re a liar, and that’s a pity.’

Kate felt winded, breathless. The way he was looking at her was so hot—but she didn’t think for a second that it meant anything. She didn’t know why he was bringing this up now. She just wanted to stay in one piece until she could get away.

‘I’m not a liar,’ she asserted, and then frowned when she registered what he’d said. ‘And what do you mean, it’s a pity?’

Tiarnan sat back again, and perversely that made Kate more nervous than when he’d been closer.

‘You’re a liar because I believe you do remember every second of that kiss, as well as I do, and it’s a pity you don’t intend repeating it because I’d very much like to.’

Kate sat straight and tall. Somewhere dimly she could hear her mother’s strident voice in her head: Kate Lancaster, sit up straight. I won’t have you let me down with sloppy manners. Show your breeding. You’re a young lady and you will not embarrass me in front of these people!

Her focus returned to the room. She wasn’t ten years old. She was twenty-eight. She was an internationally renowned model: successful, independent. She struggled to cling onto what was real: the pianist was playing a familiar tune, the dark, muted tones of the bar, the lights glittering and twinkling outside. The waitress appeared again, and Kate could see Tiarnan gesture for another drink. His eyes hadn’t left hers, and she thought that she might have misheard him. He might have said something entirely different. But then she remembered the way his hands had felt around her waist earlier, how close his thumbs had brushed to her breasts. The way he’d looked at her. The way he was looking at her now.

Ten years on from one moment with this man and she was a quivering wreck. Despite a full and busy life, despite relationships … If he had decided, for whatever reason, that he wanted her, and if she acquiesced, it would be like opening the door, flinging her arm wide with a smile on her face and inviting catastrophe to move in for ever. If she was this bad after a kiss, what would she be like after succumbing to the sensual invitation that was in his eyes right now? Because that look said that a kiss would be the very least of the experience. And awfully, treacherously, any insecurity she’d harboured since that night about her own sexual appeal died a death in a flame of heat. But it was small comfort. He had rejected her clumsy, innocent advances and she had to remember that—no matter how he might be making her feel right now.

The fact that this moment was a direct manifestation of her most secret fantasies was making her reel. The waitress came and deposited more drinks, taking away the empty glasses. Kate shook her head, feeling her hair move across too sensitive skin. She knew all about Tiarnan Quinn—she’d always known all about him. One of the perks of being best friends with his sister. So Kate knew well how he compartmentalised women, how he inevitably left them behind. She’d witnessed his ruthless control first-hand. She wouldn’t, couldn’t allow that to happen again. Not even when his softly spoken words had set up a chain reaction in her body that she’d been ignoring for the past few earth-shattering seconds.

She shook her head harder, even smiled faintly, as if sharing in a joke, as if this whole evening wasn’t costing her everything.

‘I don’t think you mean that for a second.’ She took a drink from her glass, put it down again and looked at Tiarnan. ‘And even if you did, like I said, I’ve no desire to re-enact that kiss for your amusement. If all you’re looking for is a convenient woman, there are plenty available. You don’t need me. I don’t think I need to remind you that you made your rejection of my advances quite plain that night.’

Tiarnan chafed at her sudden assuredness—and at her reminder of his clumsy rejection. That feeling of regret spiked uncomfortably again. Her smile was almost mocking—as if she pitied him! He’d never been an object of pity, and he wasn’t about to start being one now.

He smiled tightly and saw Kate’s eyes widen, the pulse trip in her throat.

‘I rejected you because you were inexperienced, too young, and my little sister’s best friend.’ His jaw clenched. ‘Not because I didn’t desire you, as you may well remember. I’m looking for a lot more than a re-enactment of that kiss, and believe me, I don’t expect it to be amusing. I’m not looking for a convenient lay, Kate. I’m looking for you.’

All of Kate’s precious composure crumbled at his raw words.

‘You can’t possibly mean that … that you—’

‘Want you?’ He almost grimaced, as if in pain. ‘I want you, Kate. As much as you want me.’

‘I don’t.’ she breathed.

He arched a brow. ‘No? Then what was that look about at the christening, when you all but devoured me with your hungry blue eyes? And the way you trembled earlier under my hands?’

Kate flushed brick-red. ‘Stop it. I wasn’t. I didn’t.’ This was too cruel. Her humiliation knew no bounds. The sword had fallen spectacularly.

Tiarnan grimaced again. ‘Don’t worry. It’s mutual.’ His blue eyes speared hers. ‘You’ve never forgotten that night, Kate, have you? It’s why you always freeze me out every time we meet.’

She shook her head, his intuition sending shockwaves through her whole body. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It was so long ago … of course I’ve …’ She hitched up her chin defiantly. ‘I’ve more than kissed men since then, Tiarnan. What did you think? That I’ve hugged my pillow to sleep every night, dreaming of you?’

The awful thing was, she could remember the mortification that had led her to rid herself of her virginity as soon as was humanly possible after that night—and what an excruciating disappointment it had been.

His mouth had become a thin line of displeasure. ‘I wouldn’t imagine for a second that you haven’t had lovers, Kate.’

He reached out and took her hand, gripped it so that she couldn’t pull away, and Kate was caught, trapped by her own weak responses: lust, and the building of guilty exhilaration. Her heart beat frantically against her breastbone.

‘But did any of them make you feel the way I did after just a kiss? Did any of them make you want them so badly that it was all you could think about? Dream about?’

Tiarnan felt momentarily shocked by his words and the emotion behind them; until recently, until he’d set on this course to seduce Kate, he’d never really allowed himself to acknowledge what her effect on him had been. Touching her now, confronting this for the first time, was bringing it all back in vivid detail. Her hand felt small, soft and yet strong. He could feel her pulse beating under the skin.