Wanton Heat (A Feel the Heat Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (6 page)

“So you do use it as a pickup line?”

“Some women are shallow.” He shrugged. “What’s a guy to do?”

“Sleep his way through countless swooning females?”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, wishing Zoe hadn’t mentioned anything remotely to do with sex. Because now that’s what he was thinking about. With her.

“Yeah, like you’ve ever been through a drought,” she said, jabbing him in the arm with her elbow. “Bet you’ve got a harem tucked away in the castle dungeons.”

“That’s one hell of an imagination.” And he wondered how far it extended. “What about you? How many boyfriends are you fending off at the moment?”

Real subtle, Ricci. Not.

The thought was closely followed by
why the hell do you care?

She’d be gone ASAP if he had his way. Yet another person who wanted a piece of him, the type of person he’d usually despise. He had to stop thinking about her as a desirable woman he’d soon be alone with on his favorite island.

“Single and loving it,” she said, sounding anything but. He heard the wistfulness underlying her tone, as if she wanted something more. He knew the feeling.

“Not a relationship person?”

“Not really.” She turned away to stare out the opposite side of the boat, effectively shutting him out.

“Surprising.” He could see the east side of the island now, and his heartbeat quickened. “Most women want marriage and kids and a happily ever after.”

“I’m not most women,” she said, her audible defiance much more encouraging than her sadness of a moment ago.

“Lucky me.”

She swiveled back to face him, and the flicker of sadness in her eyes shocked him. Why was she so despondent? And who had made her like that? It shouldn’t bother him, seeing her so vulnerable, but it did. And it made him like her all the more when every logical cell in his body screamed he should keep his distance from her.

“You’re a walking, talking contradiction,” she said, making it sound like he’d dunked all the local sea life in a vat of acid. “I don’t like game-playing. It’s a waste of time. So the flirting? You either follow through, or shut the hell up.”

He stared at her, gobsmacked. He’d never met anyone so outspoken, without a care for what he’d think. It was refreshing. And a major turn-on.

“Describe the follow through.” He threw it out there as a challenge, wanting her to articulate exactly what sex between them would entail.

She glared at him through narrowed eyes. “Still game-playing, I see, which means you need to shut up.”

He laughed, his first genuine belly laugh in years. “Okay, I’ll be quiet ’til we get to the island. But
cara
?” He trailed a fingertip down her thigh, savoring the shiver of awareness that made her wrap her arms around her middle. “When we arrive on Ancora? All bets are off.”

…

Zoe didn’t know what terrified her more.

The murky darkness of the storm clouds chasing them or the increasing compulsion to jump Dominic.

Damn the man. He was too sexy for his own good. And hers.

Why the hell couldn’t he have been the gardener or the boat captain or the stable boy, so she could’ve had wild sex without the consequences?

Because there would be consequences for sleeping with the prince, she had no doubt.

Not that he’d follow through. She knew what he was doing, trying to undermine her before she could finish her presentation. Well, let him keep trying. He was dealing with the wrong woman if he thought his charm would rattle her. She could flirt like a pro. Besides, even if they both lost their minds and ended up having sex, he didn’t have his professional reputation on the line, or plans for a very different future.

She had to convince him to agree to Kaluna’s tourism-boosting plans. Having hot island sex would undermine her pitch. And her. Because even though she didn’t want to admit the truth, Dominic Ricci appealed to her on a deeper level than just physical. And it scared the hell out of her.

She’d vowed to change her lifestyle. Losing the company’s most valuable clients, losing her shit when she bawled after her last one-night stand, ensured she had to do things differently. So how did craving casual sex with a prince she’d just met fit in with her new plans? It didn’t. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to do just that.

She hadn’t liked him grumpy and aloof. She liked his new humorous, flirty side even less. It disarmed her. And really made her want to tear her clothes off, straddle him, and not clamber off for a week.

“What do you think?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice. What did she think? Sex with him was a monumentally bad idea, but she wanted it regardless.

She opened her eyes and focused on the most beautiful stretch of beach she’d ever seen. A secluded alcove, sheltered on all sides by towering cliff faces, with a lone jetty jutting out in the most sheltered part.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her pulse picking up tempo now they’d arrived.

“Thank you.”

The emotion in his voice, the genuine gratitude, surprised her, and she turned to face him. What she saw then surprised her even more. The glimmer of tears in his eyes.

Fuck.

“This place is special to me,” he said, cutting the engine. He stood and busied himself with mooring, effectively buying some time to recompose himself.

Good, because she could do with a few moments herself. She’d never seen a guy cry. Discounting the football-crazed moron she’d dated her first year in college who’d actually sniveled when his team missed out on the Super Bowl by a touchdown.

But to see a guy show genuine emotion? It choked her up. And if this storm was as bad as Catarina predicted, she’d be stranded here with him for at least two days.

Man, she was in so much trouble.

She grabbed her bag from the hold, wishing she’d never agreed to this crazy-ass scheme. If she were back on Osturo, she could’ve regrouped in her room, planning her next line of attack to convince Dominic her proposal was exactly what the prince ordered. But here? With those scary-looking clouds increasingly ominous and the gusty wind picking up, she’d have no option but to wait it out with him in the cottage Catarina had mentioned.

And that’s the moment she realized she’d forgotten to ask the all-important question.

How many bedrooms did the cottage have?

She’d been so flabbergasted by Catarina’s fiendish idea initially, and later been busy perpetrating it with little time, that she’d omitted the important stuff. Logically, any royal abode would have a squillion rooms, but Ancora was a tiny, remote island. Would the Ricci cottage be just that? A small one-room place?

“Ready to come ashore?” Dominic stood on the jetty, holding his hand out to her.

Thankfully, his tears had disappeared, but the soft expression in his eyes told her how much this place meant to him. Great. Wait until she ruined his sentimental journey by bombarding him with her pitch.

“Yeah, thanks.” She slung her overnight bag higher on her shoulder and placed her other hand in his.

A little shiver of excitement shot through her as his fingers curled over hers, his palm warm and solid as he gave a little tug. A tug that was way too forceful as she stepped onto the dock. A tug that landed her flush against his chest. The excitement of a moment ago? Ratcheted up fast.

“Watch your step,” he said, with a low chuckle.

“You did that on purpose.” She placed her palms on his chest, his broad, bronzed, beautiful chest, and shoved, instantly regretting when he released her.

“So what if I did?” His lips curved into a lazy smile. “What are you going to do about it?”

She glared at him, desperately trying to muster indignation. But with him standing on the dock, silhouetted against a darkening sky with a towering cliff behind him, his eyes radiating blue fire, she couldn’t.

If she didn’t get this ad campaign proposal signed off on ASAP, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. The new her had a clear goal in mind. The old her had sex with a prince in mind. The two were poles apart.

“What I’m going to do is make sure you listen to what I have to say.” She squared her shoulders, which drew his gaze to her breasts. Damn it. “Besides, those clouds are getting angrier by the minute. Let’s find shelter.”

“I get it.” He reached for her bag, and she considered resisting for a second before handing it over. No point pissing him off by ignoring his chivalry. “You’re eager to get me alone in the cozy cottage.”

Cozy? Yikes. “How cozy are we talking?”

“What do you mean?”

Here went nothing. “How many bedrooms does it have?”

He halted and she was forced to do the same. “Why? Not like we’re going to be staying here overnight.” He pointed skyward. “This’ll blow over, and we’ll be back on Osturo tonight.”

This was her moment to come clean. To tell him the truth about her dastardly plan.

But was it her fault if he couldn’t read his region’s weather patterns after all these years? If he loved this place so much, why didn’t he know this was no ordinary storm?

Conscience appeased—yeah, she had to keep telling herself that—she shrugged. “Guess I’m still a tad jet-lagged, so I thought I could take a nap this afternoon.”

His eyes narrowed, as if he didn’t buy her excuse for a second. “You don’t seem like the napping type.”

She wasn’t, but now she’d headed down a one-way road to Fibsville, she had to go on with it. “You’re very good at judging people.
Maybe I am the
napping type.
”

“And you’re very good at deflection.” His astute gaze never left hers. “You’re up to something.”

“Yeah, trying to get you alone in a single-bedroom cottage.” She rolled her eyes. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes as he laughed. “Does it matter? One bedroom or ten, the doors don’t have locks, so I can disturb your nap any time I like.”

This time, the shiver that racked her body was pure, unadulterated need.

“Only if you want your crown jewels crushed,” she said, flouncing ahead of him on the rocky path leading upward and curving around the cliff face.

“I think you’re mistaking crushing for caressing,” he called after her, his mocking laughter making her want to join in.

A pox on him for being so goddamn irresistible.

Being stranded on an island with a sexy prince for longer than a day? Wasn’t just a dumbass idea. With him determined to undermine her by constantly flirting, her grand plan had just entered certifiable territory.

…

As they neared the cottage, Dominic cast a quick glance at the sky.

He’d lived through a few big storms in this area over the years. It was why the cottage was always fully stocked for any eventuality with the unpredictable weather. It didn’t usually bother him. He liked storms. The louder the thunder, the gustier the wind, the more he loved it. Loved sitting inside the cottage with its 360-degree views of the island, watching lightning light up the sky.

Not this time.

It had been too long since he’d been out here, and he’d made an error in judgment. By the looks of those clouds and the strength of the wind, this wasn’t one of the “blow over in an afternoon” storms he’d told Zoe about.

Uh-uh. This was the kind to strand them indoors for days.

Fuck.

He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her.

And that was a disaster waiting to happen.

It didn’t sit well with him, knowing she was wasting her time with whatever she presented, but he wanted to sleep with her regardless. Only a complete bastard would do that. Unless she was agreeable for a little recreational sex to blow off steam?

Except for one salient fact: she seemed to not want him.

Once he’d gotten past his initial annoyance at being kidnapped, he’d turned on the charm. Initially to rattle her, later because he enjoyed getting a rise out of her. While her heated gaze indicated a response, she hadn’t fired back with the flirty quips he’d expected. Was he so starved for female attention lately that he’d misread the signals?

The few times she had responded with a fiery barb had turned him on. Big-time. He loved an intelligent woman, the ability to create sparks with words. Intellectual foreplay was incredibly stimulating before sex. Sex he couldn’t stop thinking about whenever he was around Zoe Keaton, apparently, despite her being off-limits if he wanted to do this right.

He should revert to the asshole he’d been when she first arrived. His usual suspicious, aloof self. Otherwise he was in grave danger of saying to hell with his principles and seducing her regardless.

“Hope you packed your PJs,” he said, gesturing to the giant bag she clutched tight as they neared the cottage. “We could be stuck here overnight.”

“Not a problem.” She snuck him a sideways glance. “I go commando.”

He stumbled, and she laughed. “You’re too easy.”

“I could be for you.”

He threw it out there, expecting an instant rebuttal or for her to withdraw like she had on the boat. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a challenging stare he had no hope of interpreting.

“News flash, Your Highness.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You couldn’t handle me.”

“Want to make a bet?”

She ignored him and preceded him along the path. “I’m the enemy, remember? And
yet another leech
wanting something from you, apparently. So quit trying to charm the pants off me, and let’s get inside before Mother Nature goes crazy.”

“Is it working?”

She glanced over her shoulder and caught him staring at her ass. “What?”

“Is my charm working?” He deliberately stared at her legs. “Are your pants on or off?”