Brenda Jackson

Flames of Attraction: Quade's Babies


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grip. He could sense it. Just like he could sense the pull he felt toward her, specifically her mouth. She had the kind of lips that made you want to do naughty things to them, lick them, taste them forever. They had a shape just for kissing and were the kind that any man’s tongue would want to wet and tease.

      “You’re out rather late, aren’t you?” he heard himself asking, feeling the need to say something before he was forced to do something he would later regret. He was known as a man with iron-clad control, but you wouldn’t know it now. He was being reduced to melted steel.

      “I could say the same for you,” she said. Her accent told Quade she was an American. Before now, he hadn’t been sure. The sound of her voice was soft and seductive. But he had a feeling it wasn’t intentionally so. It probably couldn’t be helped since it went with the rest of the alluring package she presented. Was she someone he should know, a movie star perhaps?

      “I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

      Then he saw the lift of her shoulders, and noted the way the soft material of her blouse draped around them, showing a nice cleavage with uplifted and firm breasts pressing against her blouse. He also saw her smile and his stomach clenched and his throat tightened.

      “Some nights aren’t meant for sleeping. This could be one of them,” she said, her voice stirring the unbridled lust that was flowing through his veins.

      Her response made him consider the possibility that she could very well be coming on to him. If she was, then she had done so at a time when he was ripe for the picking. Normally, he didn’t pick up women, no matter how tempting they were. He had a list of his usual partners back in D.C. who knew the score. He didn’t have time for serious relationships and the women he bedded knew it and accepted it. There wasn’t a woman alive who could make a claim for Quade Westmoreland, in no shape, form or fashion.

      He sighed ruefully, wondering how she would handle the question he was about to ask her. “I’m Quade. Would you like to go up to my room for a drink?”

      She took a step closer, stared at him as if studying the outline of his face in the moonlight. And then her gaze shifted and scanned the full length of his body and the dark gaze that finally slid back to his eyes nearly took his breath away for the second time that night.

      “And I’m Cheyenne,” she finally said, offering him her hand. “And I would love joining you for a drink.”

      The moment their hands touched Quade felt it all the way to his toes. His eyebrows snapped together in confusion and he wondered why he was behaving like a man desperate to get laid. A man without any control or willpower. A man whose needs were being exposed. And frankly he didn’t care too much for the thought of being that way. He needed to take a step back or knock some sense into his head.

      Instead, still holding her hand, he leaned closer to her, inhaled her scent. “Let’s go now,” he said, hoping and praying she wouldn’t change her mind. “I’m staying at the Bayleaf,” he added as they moved in the direction of his hotel.

      He held her hand as she walked beside him. At first they said nothing and then she said,“This isn’t common behavior for me.”

      He glanced over at her. “What isn’t?” he asked, deciding to pretend he had no idea what she was talking about.

      “Following any man this way.”

      He slowed his pace. “Then why are you now?”

      He studied her features. Saw the confusion in her eyes and knew she was just as baffled as to what was taking place between them as he was. “I don’t know. I just feel this strange connection between us. It’s like I know you when I really don’t. For heaven’s sake, I just met you barely five minutes ago.”

      “I understand,” he said, and really, he did. He actually understood because he felt the same way, although he hadn’t a clue as to why. And for the moment maybe it was just as well. All he knew was that he wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman. It seemed his level-headed nature was being placed on the back burner, falling victim to a need he couldn’t describe. It was a need that was taking over his senses.

      “And what brings you to Egypt?”

      Her question, spoken in a soft voice, sent a quiver through him. There was no way he could tell her the real reason he was there. No one, not even his family, knew the full extent of what he did for a living.

      He glanced over at her. “Mainly business. What about you?”

      She met his gaze. Held it. “Business, as well.”

      He wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth and a part of him figured she wasn’t. However, he wouldn’t lose any sleep over the fact that she wanted to keep secrets since he was keeping a few, too.

      Suddenly it dawned on him that there was one question that he had to ask her. He stopped walking and she automatically stopped beside him and met his gaze with questions in her eyes.

      “I see you aren’t wearing a ring, but nowadays that doesn’t mean anything, so I think I should ask anyway just to be sure. Are you married?”

      There was something about the look that appeared on her face that let him know what her response would be even before she spoke. “No, I’m not married. Are you?”

      “No.”

      She nodded, and he knew at that moment that she believed him. It was hard to accept that she could trust him so easily when he always found trusting others outside of his family and inner circle of friends nearly impossible.

      He saw that the patio where the elevator was located was only a few feet away. He glanced out at the ocean and knew she followed his gaze. There was a soft breeze flowing, a seductive breeze, and there was something about how the waves were hitting against the shore that was blatantly sensual.

      He looked back at her and felt a frisson of heat flowing through his veins. Her hands, the ones he was still holding, felt warm. He gave her features a good assessment, letting his gaze scan her face in detail. They were now standing in a lit area and he could see more of her. Everything. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows, high cheekbones and mussed hair made her look even sexier.

      Then there were those dark eyes that returned his gaze, while acting as a magnetic force, pulling him in as he continued to look at her in silent consideration. She was younger that he originally thought. “How old are you?” he heard himself ask.

      He could tell she hadn’t liked his question and watched as she squared her shoulders. “I’m twenty-eight. How old are you?”

      He continued to hold her gaze and felt the smile that played around his mouth when he said, “Thirty-six.”

      She nodded. “That’s a nice age.”

      He couldn’t help but chuckle. “In terms of what?”

      “In terms of being a man who knows what he wants.”

      She was so right. In fact, he wanted to make her aware of just how right she was. Deciding it was time to be serious, he tightened his hold on her hand and gently pulled her closer, pressing her soft body against the hardness of his. He wanted her to feel just what she did to him. Just how much he wanted her. How aroused he was. And he knew the exact moment she did know.

      Quade saw the glint of full awareness in her gaze and watched her nervously lick her lips with the tip of her tongue. He was suddenly hit with an urge to kiss her, to taste her lips.

      He lowered his head and like a magnet, her lips were pulled toward his. Then slowly their mouths connected and the moment they did so a deep throb of intense hunger and desire shot to every part of his body. That iron-clad will that he was known for slowly began dissolving as he took hold of her tongue and began mating with it, deepening the kiss, hungrily tasting every area of her mouth, leaving no part untouched. He heard her moan and likewise, he moaned, too.

      He couldn’t break the kiss, couldn’t stop his mouth from devouring her in a way he had never done any woman. It was as