Sebastian would have given the entire payout of his next race to lick it off but he’d pushed his luck enough already. He swiped the gooey mess from her lips then brought his thumb to his tongue along with the other half of the caramel. The flavor of her skin surpassed the sweetness of the candy.
“Mmm, delicious.”
Her regal neck flexed as she swallowed, making it far too easy to imagine her throat working around him instead. He groaned.
“Looks like I’m not the only one with a sweet tooth.”
“You have no idea.” The rough tone of his voice surprised him. He shook himself, trying to find some restraint. He couldn’t bear to frighten her off.
“Next up, the main course. He slid the bundled beef jerky and cheddar cheese from his pocket then offered it to her. When he ripped open the packaging, a loud gurgle drowned out the crinkle of plastic. “Damn, no screwing around. You’re really hungry. It sucks that they’ve cut all the snacks out of your domestic flights.”
She didn’t argue, accepting the meager offering with a murmured, “Thanks.”
After she chewed and swallowed a hunk of dried meat, she asked, “Is there still a land of free munchies? Where are you from?”
“A tiny village on the Amalfi Coast.”
“Which one?” She popped another nugget into her mouth. Such contrasts. An all-business skirt and blouse in dove gray and pink matched her perfect French manicure but couldn’t detract from the hints of wicked mischief flashing in her eyes or her ability to enjoy the simple pleasures he’d brought her.
“Oh, nowhere you’d know.”
“Try me.” Her arched eyebrow made him sorry to squash her rebelliousness when he proved her wrong.
“Erchie.”
“Ah, yes. Often overlooked. Closer to Salerno than Sorrento. It’s actually one of the stops on my itinerary.”
“You’re kidding! What are you planning to do there?”
“Write travel guides. For women. Alone.” She blushed then studied the tiles as though embarrassed for not having a companion. “At least I hope to. I quit my job to give it a go.”
“No shit. You’ll have to stay at my mother’s bed and breakfast. The rooms are small but cozy and she cooks the best pasta in all of Italy. She’d make any
ragazza
feel right at home as long as they don’t mind her talking their ears off or going into town to gossip with her friends.”
“That sounds perfect.” Her smile lit up the gloomy terminal. “But I’m sure she’ll be booked solid this time of year.”
“You can have my old room. She refuses to rent it out in case I’m able to make it home in between events. Like I’d mind crashing on the couch for a night or two. But she won’t hear of it.” He chucked as he thought of the horror on his mother’s face when he’d proposed the idea last.
Truth was, though he’d spent his youth ticking off the days until he could escape his lazy village to someplace urban and fast-paced, lately he longed for the peace he’d known while lounging on the beach, swimming in the jewel blue waters of the Mediterranean or fishing with his father before he’d lost his battle with cancer. “Depending on the timing, maybe I could meet you there.”
The thought of this woman in his boyhood bed had his molars throbbing as he ground them to dust. It only got worse when she licked salt from her fingertips, one by one.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She chuckled.
As though it would be any kind of imposition.
“What events were you talking about? What do
you
do?”
“Ah. I drive.” He relished the dilation of her pupils when he revealed the pack of donuts he’d stashed behind his back, feeling only a little guilty for distracting her. He didn’t want to ruin their casual exchange. People always got weird when they found out. “Dessert?”
“Oh yeah. I never pass it up. If you couldn’t tell.” She nibbled one side of the cake ring he shared, paying no mind to the powdered sugar snowing onto her clothes.
“Me either.”
Her gaze snapped to his, searing him with her green laser stare for several moments before she steered the conversation to her original goal. “So…you drive. A taxi?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what, exactly?” She refused to surrender. He loved that.
“Rally cars.” He shrugged, hoping to play it off. It didn’t mean as much in the States where the sport had never grown popular.
“Wow! A racecar driver.”
Sebastian tamped down the pride attempting to flair at the approval in her voice.
“That can’t be an easy thing to pursue. I mean, doesn’t every boy dream of speed? I wish I’d refused to give in to reality when I was your age.”
He laughed out loud. “My age!
Dio
, you make it sound like you’re a hundred years old. Bust out the ‘whippersnapper’ or maybe ‘kids today’, why don’t you?”
“Come on, you’re what…twenty-five?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“I turned forty this year!”
“Though some things get finer with age, it’s still just a number, Lynn.” He studied the pinched corner of her lips. She frowned as she swallowed the final crumbs of the donut. “You’re free now and going after what you want. That’s all that matters.”
He cursed under his breath when he reminded her of their situation. In an instant, she morphed into a bundle of tension.
“What am I doing? I have to get out of here. I need to make it to New York.” She glanced at her watch then checked the board once more as though expecting a miracle. “There’s no way I’ll make it if I wait for the flight. Will you watch my things for a minute?”
“Can I peek at
your
underwear?”
“Hell no!” A chuckle broke from her as she pressed a palm to her cheek. She began to turn then came closer instead. “I don’t wear any.”
Her scandalous whisper reverberated through his chest straight to his straining erection as he watched her float away. Her unpracticed flirting turned him on more than the skilled seduction he’d enjoyed from women in the past. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she sashayed toward the counter where the line had died down some.
Sebastian didn’t notice the hyper child running past until it was too late. The kid skipped from black tile to black tile, lassoing his ankle in Lynn’s purse strap. Tangled, the child and the bag crashed to the floor. Sebastian reached out to make sure the boy hadn’t hurt himself but the child’s mortified mother beat him to it. When she’d assured herself the kid was fine, she started a lecture on public behavior with, “Tommy John Andrews…”
Ouch! He’d always hated it when he earned a full-name reprimand.
With a wink at the boy, he gathered the scattered contents of Lynn’s carry-on. He set her netbook on the bench then reached for the books that had tumbled free. The graphic covers had him doing a double take.
Holy shit! That couldn’t be what it looked like.
Yet, sure enough, when he scooted the first one closer for a thorough inspection, he confirmed the
two
men depicted both had their hands beneath the skirt of the women between them.
His pulse spiked, maybe even skipped a beat here and there. The thick paper swished as he thumbed through the novel, picking out juicy scenes to browse. Lynn moved up from gorgeous, sweet and funny to his dream woman in a matter of seconds.
Passionate possibilities flooded his mind. Had she ever tried ménage? Bondage? Or even the raw, primal sex for two filling the pages in his hands? He doubted it. Hell, the woman had nearly choked on a tiny tease over going commando.
He would love to show her all she had missed.
When her netbook dinged from near his ear as he crouched on the floor, he jerked hard enough to bang his knee under the seat. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the grouchy man he’d jarred from a nap.
Guilty much, Fiori?
The flashing icon in the system tray caught his attention. His finger moved toward the touchpad despite his attempt to restrain himself. Shit, that’d never been his strong suit.
The new email contained a link to comments on a blog. He clicked before his conscience could catch up with his caveman instincts.
Tempt The Cougar
. He didn’t realize he’d started grinning like a madman until his cheeks ached. His gorgeous crush hid more than she let on. So she thought he was sexy? Good to know.
Sebastian scanned the posts. He must have done something really, really good—like saving the planet good—in a previous life. Lynn and her friends were into younger men. How about that?
Sam: Do it, Lynn! Or, should I say, do him?
Autumn: Ohhh, does he have any cute friends?
Stevie: Sneak us a pic with your phone!
Larissa: Back off, Cougars. You all have studs of your own. I understand being cautious, Lynn, but there’s a difference between that and isolation. If you can, see where it goes. It’s okay to have fun every once in a while. Rawrrrr!
LynnLuvsTrvl: Hey, ladies. Lynn stepped away for a minute. I promise I’m not a serial killer. Your friend is beautiful. The attraction is not one-sided. You can check me out. My name is Sebastian Fiori. I’m a rally car driver for Driven Wild. Go ahead, Google me. I can give you references…’cause I’m telling you now, I’m interested in fulfilling her fantasies. Maybe you could put in a good word for me?
Darci: Holy crap! She wasn’t joking. You’re HOT!
LynnLuvsTrvl: Uh, thanks.
Rachel: If you hurt her, we will hunt you down. My fiancé is a cop.
LynnLuvsTrvl: She’s safe with me. I swear it. She’ll call you when we get to NY. Give me four hours before you release the hounds.
Rachel: How are you going to get there?
LynnLuvsTrvl: I have a plan, don’t worry.
“Excuse me. I realize you’re swamped right now but I have a flight to Europe to catch in less than five hours. Can you give me any estimate at all of how long it might be before we’re en route?”
“Sorry, ma’am.” The freckle-faced kid made her feel ancient. “I’m not supposed to say.”
No use in hassling the guy. She’d worked her share of shit jobs in her college years. “I understand. Thanks, anyway.”
Just as she turned, the kid whispered, “But…if I were you, I’d go for a rental car. With this mess, you’ll be lucky to snag one. If you can though, the drive’s only four hours or so. If traffic’s not bad, you’ll make your flight. That’s more than I can promise if you hang around here.”
Lynn nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
“Let me call for you. I have the number on speed dial.” He tapped the monstrous phone on his desk then waited a beat before asking, “Hey, Russell, can I make a reservation for a passenger? I’m going to send her right over to you.”
She held her breath as the kid listened. Then sighed when he cursed under his breath.
“Nothing at all? Not even to carpool up to JFK?” Another pause. “Yeah, trust me, you should see things in here. It’s a zoo today. I don’t get paid enough for this. Not your fault, man. Thanks.”
He didn’t meet her gaze as he replaced the handset in the cradle as though he expected her to rant and rave.
“It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” Lynn couldn’t prevent her disappointment from shading her tone.
“Want me to see what’s available for standby, maybe we can reroute you?”
“There’s not enough time…”
Lynn jumped when someone cupped her elbow. Without looking, she recognized Sebastian’s scent and the gentle yet firm way he ensnared her. She leaned into his hold as her knees turned to jelly.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve made other arrangements for us.”
“You did what?” Her hackles rose. She hadn’t fought to break every single confining influence in her life only to let some stranger start making her decisions.
He ignored her outrage. “Could you please have our luggage forwarded to our final destination?”
Sebastian passed a torn corner of paper with an address scribbled on it over her head. She concentrated on closing her gaping mouth and relaxing her contorted face in case it stuck like that. As if she needed more wrinkles!
“Yes of course, Mr. Fiori.”
She whipped around to face the attendant. Obviously rally car racing meant more than she’d realized. Her young coconspirator stared at Sebastian as she imagined he would Superman or maybe one of the Yankees.
“How do you know where I’m headed?” The squeak came out an octave above her usual tone.
“Your friends told me you’re starting your trip in Paris. I’m on my way to France for a rally. By the way, Rachel says to have a good time.” He had the balls to wink at her.
She sputtered, trying to find the anger she knew should raise her blood pressure over his violation of her privacy. Still, none seemed to materialize. Had he opened the door to her fantasies? Could it be so horrible to accept his offer if it was what she would have chosen anyway?
At least she didn’t have to face humiliation. When he’d discovered the blog, he could have left—could have walked away without looking over his shoulder. But he hadn’t. He’d come to claim her.