Carly Phillips - Under the Boardwalk

“Dare I ask why the sudden shift?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes the harder you try to avoid something, the more it crowds you.” She stood and slid her hand into her apron pocket. “If you’re serious, you can pick me up at noon on my next day off.” She handed him a scrap of paper.

He glanced down and saw her handwritten address. He was completely taken off guard, and for a split second, his stomach churned with all the excitement and anticipation of an adolescent who’d just gotten a yes to his first date. “I’ll be there.”

She started to walk away, then turned, uncertainty in her eyes. “Remember what they say.”

“What’s that?”

“What you get may be much more than you bargained for.”

He laughed, but once again his gut tightened. He had the distinct impression this date could change his life forever.

Damn Quinn. If he was going to insist on being her chauffeur, the least he could do was show up to drive her home. At two A.M., Ariana had no desire to hunt around the casino looking for him. She started with the small bar where she’d seen him the first time, but he wasn’t there. Now she headed for his office, her thoughts in turmoil.

Nothing she’d learned about Quinn or Zoe made any sense. She recounted the facts that worked against Quinn: She didn’t know much about him and he’d been less than forthcoming about who he was and what his relationship had been to her sister. People at Damon’s wondered if he’d had anything to do with Zoe’s disappearance, and though he claimed to know for a fact her twin was alive, he refused to divulge more information. Until tonight he’d kept close tabs on Ariana during her time in the casino-because he was afraid she’d discover he was somehow involved? All the circumstantial evidence didn’t place Quinn in the best light.

But she wasn’t ready to count him out. Wasn’t it possible that Maria, who’d been a bitch since day one, had intended to cause problems for her and Quinn? Ariana shook her head. That theory didn’t work, because it served Maria’s interest to have Ariana involved with any man other than Connor.

But ironically also working in Quinn’s favor was the fact that he claimed her sister was alive. Added to that, her crazy family seemed to like and trust him. His deep caring for Sam proved he was a decent human being. And Ariana was falling hard for the man.

Her last relationship had been with a fellow professor who’d been as excited about Freud as he was about her. Sadly, that passion hadn’t translated physically for either of them. They’d agreed to be friends, went to university events together, but there’d been no real romance in her life for way too long.

Quinn gave her excitement. He made her feel desired and sexy and completely feminine even when he was in one of his darker, not-speaking moods. While she was in town, she wanted to get to know him better. Her search for Zoe had suddenly become as much about clearing Quinn from guilt as finding her sister.

She obviously couldn’t rely on fact or logic, and frustration shot through her. She’d just have to confront Quinn. She’d already checked his office, but the door had been locked. She checked the paper he’d given her with his phone number in case she had to reach him. Sure enough, he’d also included his room number.

Her gaze strayed from the house phones to the bank of elevators. The easy way or the hard way? Ariana wondered. Which would it be?

Apparently, since her return home, she’d acquired courage she hadn’t known she possessed. Not five minutes later, Ariana was knocking on Quinn’s door. Her fists clenched tight as she waited.

Finally he jerked open the door. His gaze fell on Ariana and his eyes opened wide in recognition. “Oh shit. I forgot all about you.”

“Nice way to impress a lady,” she said wryly. “You never showed up at the bar to take me home.” That was unlike him, and for the first time she wondered if he’d gotten sick.

A look at his furrowed brows and she realized he was preoccupied, nothing more. If he’d let her drive to the casino and leave on her own, he wouldn’t have to add her to his list of concerns, something she opened her mouth to mention.

“Come in and let me get dressed,” he said, and all rational thoughts fled.

Her stare drifted from his troubled gaze to his muscled chest. His bare muscled chest, sprinkled with just the right amount of sandy-colored hair and tapering to a trim waist. Lower down, a thin scar traversed his lower right abdomen and led into the waistband of his unbuttoned jeans. Her hands twitched with the desire to feel his skin’s texture, to dip her fingertips into the worn denim and explore further.

“Unless you’d rather wait in the hall?”

His voice startled her, and feeling as if she’d been caught, she quickly raised her gaze. Her body had already flushed hot at her thoughts, and now she was certain a blush covered her cheeks as well. “No. I’ll come in. Thanks.” Ariana stepped inside, tripping over the raised wooden saddle on the floor.

He righted her with a hand on her elbow and if he knew why she was suddenly flustered, at least he was gentleman enough not to say. Instead he gestured with a grand sweep of his arm around the suite. “Be it ever so humble.”

“There’s no place like home,” she finished for him, and to distract herself from all that blatant testosterone pummeling her, she glanced around.

The place he called home wasn’t anything like the private domain she’d imagined he occupied. Instead the room was a sterile suite with plenty of luxuries and amenities but lacking any warmth. From the cold, industrial-type carpet to the pictures and furniture common to all hotel rooms, there was nothing personal to indicate anyone lived here. Oh, Quinn stayed here, that much she could tell, since his watch lay on a dresser beside some spare change and his clothes had been haphazardly tossed around. But there was nothing of him inside this room.

“Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company,” he said, as if guessing her train of thought.

She shrugged. “Not a problem.” She sat down on the couch and waited while he buttoned his jeans and then reached for a sweater he’d left on the arm of a chair.

In front of her was a mass of paperwork, and though she didn’t plan to pry, Sam’s name jumped out at her from the top page. And suddenly Ariana knew the reason he’d forgotten about her.

“Will you have trouble finding Sam a home?” she asked softly.

Surprising her, he took a seat by her side. He still held his shirt in his hands, and his body heat emanated off him in waves. “Unfortunately, yeah. Finding her a new place won’t be easy.”

“But she’s such a great kid.” Ariana couldn’t imagine a couple not wanting her. “What happened to her real parents?”

He eyed her steadily. “Her father’s a drug dealer doing a life sentence, and her mother’s dead. Caught by a bullet meant for her father.”

Ariana winced and her eyes filled with tears. Embarrassed, she wiped them with the back of her hand. “That’s horrible.”

“That’s the kind of life she’s been exposed to.”

Ariana paused for a steady breath. “Is it the kind of life you’ve been exposed to?” She knew he’d also been in foster care, and wondered what had happened to his parents.

He shook his head. “No, my folks just didn’t give a shit.” He let out a bitter laugh. “At least Sam’s mother made an effort at giving her kid a decent life before a bullet got in the way.” He’d changed the subject back to Sam, and Ariana knew that’s all she was likely to learn about him for now.

But that was okay, since she’d plumbed unexpected depths and gained a deeper understanding of what made him tick. She still couldn’t put all the pieces together, but she’d made a start.

“Social Services will have no choice but to place her in a group home filled with mostly troubled teens. But she needs love and stability and she sure as hell won’t find it there.” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes.

“Maybe another couple that can’t have kids will want a teenager?” she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Not likely. Sam’s got so many strikes against her I don’t know where to begin.”

“What else is there besides her age?”

He cocked his head to one side. “You met the kid, so you shouldn’t have to ask. She’s a wiseass for one thing, and you experienced her petty-theft tendencies firsthand.”

“But underneath it all, she just wants to be loved. Surely somebody will see past the facade,” Ariana said. She had seen past it the first time they’d met.

Quinn shook his head again, his eyes wide with obvious disbelief. “You don’t really buy into that humanity crap, do you? Not everybody’s got the rosy family you do.”

She bit her cheek to keep herself from giving him a wise-guy comeback about her family, because he was right. At least she’d had a loving home to grow up in. “Okay, I get your point, but there’s got to be a solution.”

“I wouldn’t leave my dog with half the applicants on this list, and besides, they’re looking for younger kids. Anyone who’d consider a teen will be hard pressed to take her, given her history.”

“But she’s got reasons for the way she acts.” Ariana knew she was grasping at straws, but like Quinn, she already cared about Sam.

His anguished gaze met hers. “The reason she acts out doesn’t matter. The facts in the reports do.” With a wave of his hand, he trashed the papers, sending them sprawling to the floor. “I’m going to have to work on Felice and Aaron, because nobody decent wants a troubled teen.”

In Quinn’s gaze, in his expression and in his posture, Ariana could see traces of the little boy who had once been in the same position as Sam. He still remembered being the kid nobody wanted.

But he wasn’t that teen anymore, he was a man. A man whose hurt she wanted to ease and who she desired more with each breath she took. Knowing it wasn’t wise, she reached out anyway and placed a hand on his shoulder, a safe distance away from the hair-roughened chest that interested her so.

His heated stare locked with hers and she realized there was no safe place to touch or to run. There was no way to escape from her mounting desire for this complicated man.

He leaned closer, his lips hovering near hers. Every time she inhaled, she smelled his masculine scent and her nipples puckered tighter against her stretch tee. Desire pulsed inside her, and from the fire burning in his gaze, he needed her, too.

“This is crazy,” she said softly.

He nodded in agreement. “Then walk away.”

“I can’t.” Once again it was that simple.

She didn’t know who kissed who first, but finally, blessedly, his lips were on hers, hot, devouring, demanding, and giving her exactly what she’d yearned for.

They were combustible and the fire between them flared out of control. Her hands started at his waist, slid upward, her fingers trailing over his skin and taking in every contour and sensation. His flesh was smooth to the touch, made coarser by the liberal sprinkling of hair. And everywhere she touched, his skin was aflame.

He held her head in place with one hand and all the while his tongue dipped and swirled inside her mouth, setting the pace. One she gladly matched. He was a man who obviously liked being in control, and if it made her feel this good, she didn’t mind allowing him the liberty. Not as long as she could take a few of her own, and she did, as her hands came to rest over his chest, his hard nipples spearing her palms. He let out a slow groan of intense satisfaction and she took pleasure in knowing she could affect him as easily as he did her.

His lips slid over hers, then down her neck. “You drive me insane.”

“You do the same to me.”

With shaking hands, he pulled her top high around her midriff until he cupped her breasts in his hands. He’d anticipated her need, as he fed her hunger, his warm hands plumping and kneading her aching flesh. His hands worshiped her breasts and desire pulled a straight path to her center while a rush of liquid trickled between her legs.

A pulse beat harder in her throat as waves of temptation beckoned to her. He caressed and plucked her nipples with his fingertips, each movement creating a pull of exquisite desire throughout her body. She realized she was trembling, her hips gyrating in time to his unspoken commands.

He understood what she desired and pulled her onto his lap. Though it took some adjusting, she managed to straddle his legs, her thighs bracketing his. Her skirt inched up and only a thin scrap of cotton and his denim jeans provided a barrier between mutual, aching need. As his erection pressed warm and full between her legs, a delicious heat spread through her. She tipped her head back and let out a slow moan, allowing the pleasurable sensations to infuse her body, mind, and spirit.