He smiled as he slowed his pace, fixing to stay awhile, maybe think through some of the work he had to prepare for the meeting with Rich later that week. Each footfall became less pronounced as he neared the edge of the cove, the water shrouded from the moonlight by thick, full branches and sharp boulders.
Quinn was bending at the waist, placing his hands on his thighs to catch his breath, when splashing sounds caught his attention. He shifted his eyes to the water, listening intently.
A soft feminine laugh filtered into his ears, and he turned toward it, taking a step forward and nearly tripping over an empty champagne bottle.
Great. It would be just his luck to stumble upon a couple making out in his cove.
He caught movement near the water's edge and squinted, bringing the gorgeous curves of a naked woman into focus. She was facing away from him, her fingertips dragging along the surface of the water, flinging it into the air every few seconds, accompanied by that feminine laugh.
All alone in the water, she turned in the iridescent light of the moon, revealing a silhouette of her full breasts, the lush curves of her hips, and her long dark hair.
Quinn stood stock-still, mesmerized by her beauty and the sweet sound of her laughter. But when he shifted and stepped on a piece of driftwood, she immediately looked toward the sound of wood cracking.
For a split second their eyes locked. Sweet Lord, she was beautiful.
And then with a gasp of surprise, she was suddenly submerged beneath the water, the waves covering her head to toe.
Chapter Two
QUINN SPRINTED INTO the icy water and scooped the woman up in his arms, incredibly thankful that he had been there when she went under.
Holding her close, the first thing he did was make sure she was breathing okay. Thanking God that she was, he asked, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
She looked up at him in confusion. "What are you doing?"
"Saving you." His heart was still pounding way too hard as he strode out of the water with her in his arms. That split second when he'd thought she was drowning had been terrifying.
"Saving me?"
She pushed wet hair out of her eyes, and he nearly stumbled as a direct ray of moonlight illuminated her high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that managed to look both intelligent and seductive. She truly was the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on.
"I was just having fun skinny-dipping. At least until I realized you were standing there. That's when I dropped down under the water so you wouldn't see me naked. Besides," she said as he finally realized she was trying to push out of his arms, while also trying futilely to cover up her lush curves, "how do I know you're not the one I need saving from? Some guy skulking around the cove after midnight grabbing naked women out of the sea."
"I'm not that kind of guy," he promised her, even though he was losing the battle of trying to ignore the feel of her bare breasts against his chest, the sweet scent of her naked skin, and the fact that her voice fit the rest of her perfectly--warm and full-bodied. "I would never hurt a woman. I swear I'm just trying to help you."
But he knew if he really wanted to prove to her that he was a good guy, now that they were out of the water, he needed to let go of her naked body. Deliberately not letting his eyes wander over her curves again, he finally set her down.
"Do you remember where you left your clothes?" he asked as he turned around to give her privacy to go find them.
"Of course I remember."
Quinn assumed by the distant sound of her voice that she'd walked a short ways up the beach to find her clothes and was now getting dressed.
"I might be a lightweight," she continued, "but I didn't drink that much champagne tonight. Besides, you're supposed to have fun and be a little wild on your honeymoon. You can turn around again now. I'm dressed."
Quinn turned, and holy smokes, the strapless minidress she wore was now drenched and nearly translucent, doing absolutely nothing to hide her curves. He tried to shift his eyes away, but Jesus, it was hard. She was that sexy.
By the time he was finally able to make himself look away from the wet fabric over her naked curves, he was stunned by the expression on her face. Not fear, anymore. Not confusion, either. Instead, it looked like she wished she were back in his arms again. The night was cool, but in that moment the heat between them easily trumped the evening breeze.
At least until his brain finally registered what she'd just said.
"Honeymoon?" None of this made any sense. Why was she out here by herself if it was her honeymoon? And if she'd just gotten married, then where had the desire he swore he'd seen in her eyes come from? The only thing he knew for sure right now was that some guy was going to try to kick his ass when he found Quinn out here on the beach with his wife, when all Quinn had been trying to do was make sure she was okay--or at least that's what he'd started out doing. "Where's your husband?"
His questions, especially the word husband, seemed to sever the heated thread between them. She waved a dismissive hand and made a face. "Husbands are totally overrated. Plus, you don't need one for a solo honeymoon."
Solo honeymoon? He'd never heard that one before. She was surprising him at every turn. Sexy and interesting was a combination he hadn't come across many times in his life.
"You're not married?"
She shook her head, but even just that small movement sent her off-balance. She was still as good as naked, and he'd hate for some other guy to find her like this--a little tipsy and too damn gorgeous for her own good. No question about it, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't see her home safely in one piece.
Quinn didn't know if this was his lucky night or if he was being punished for some unknown sin. But given that he would never dream of taking advantage of a woman out having fun skinny-dipping by herself in the moonlight, he was putting odds on punishment. Especially since even though he now knew she wasn't married, he was only on the island for long enough to get through tomorrow's meeting.
But at the same time, he'd never been this drawn to a woman before. Or been so intrigued. Maybe tomorrow, some how, some way, he could track her down and--
Just then, he realized there was a scrap of material floating near the water's edge. A scrap that looked like super-sexy lace panties.
"Are those yours, too?"
She followed his gaze, and her cheeks pinked up as she went to retrieve them. "Thanks. I would have been sad to lose my favorite pair."
Great. Now he was going to have to work like crazy to stop thinking about both her skintight, see-through dress and the panties she'd just picked up. Already, though, he was failing on every front as desire continued to simmer hotter inside of him by the second.
"I'd like to make sure you get home okay."
She didn't respond, simply started heading up the beach. He kicked something else and bent down to find a cell phone half buried in the sand. Looked like she'd forgotten more than just her favorite pair of panties.
"Where are you staying?" he said after he picked up her phone and slipped it into his pocket. He spotted the empty champagne bottle and picked that up too, and then caught up to her.
"The honeymoon cottage at the resort." She looked to the right, then the left, then stopped walking. "I'm not going the right way, am I?" The sudden laughter underlying her words gave him the sense that the alcohol was beginning to sink in big-time now.
Even her laughter was sexy. "Nope."
Quinn found himself wishing the honeymoon cottage wasn't quite so close by. He wasn't ready to say goodnight to her just yet. Not anywhere near close to ready.
"Well," she said as she turned around and headed in the opposite direction, "I suppose since we're on an island, I would have gotten there eventually."
Quinn felt his lips twitch. She was like a sweet--and breathtakingly sensual--ray of moonlight on what had been a bleak and chaotic night. He'd never understood how people could allow themselves to float through even one night without a plan, without being completely
in control. But in the few moments before she'd seen him in the cove and ducked down in the water to cover herself with the waves, it had been captivating to watch her act like she hadn't a care in the world, so happy and confident.
As they walked past the boulders and followed the surf toward the lights of the resort in the distance, he said, "I'm Quinn."
"I'm Shelley." She smiled at him, another ray of moonlight shining down as she said, "Shelley Walters."
"I've got to ask you, why a solo honeymoon, Shelley?"
"Because dating is a bore, and waiting for a honeymoon might mean I'd never take one."
"Dating is a bore, huh?" He couldn't agree more.
For a moment as she turned to meet his gaze, he swore heat flared between them again. But then, she stopped walking, put her hand on her forehead, and shook her head as if she was trying to stave off the effects of the champagne by sheer will.
Quinn remembered that feeling from his college days when he'd had one too many. He had the urge to put his arm around her, to steady her and block her from the bay breeze. She had to be cold in that wet dress. But before he could, she began walking again, each step a little less steady.
"Guys are all about work, sex, and more work," she continued. "Don't get me wrong. I really enjoy certain parts of that, but..." She trailed off as she focused on stepping over a large rock in the sand.
She had men nailed down pretty well. He couldn't dispute her assessment, but hearing it from her made him feel a little embarrassed because the "more work" part hit so close to home. They walked across the sand, listening to the sounds of the bay, her pace slowing considerably as the champagne fully hit her system. She stumbled over another rock, and he reached for her.
"Whoa," he whispered, pulling her against him before she could fall. "I've got you, sweetheart."
"Sweetheart." She sounded almost wistful. Slightly breathless, too, as if being this close again felt as good to her as it did to him. "That sounds surprisingly nice when you say it. Almost like you mean it." She flattened her palms on his bare chest, fully awakening the desires he'd been trying to push down before he could forcefully bank them. Her words sounded a little more rounded now as she looked up at him and said, "Maybe Taryn is right and an island fling would be fun."
An island fling?
What had he done to deserve this test? Quinn hadn't had an island fling in too many years to count, ever since he'd become so consumed with his business that he came back to the island for only a few hours over the holidays, for family gatherings. But a fling with Shelley? Just the thought of it made him want to cancel every meeting he had scheduled for the next week so that he could focus on learning everything about her. Why she'd come to the island. What made her laugh. And, especially, what would make her gasp with pleasure...
"Maybe you should kiss me," she said, swaying a bit more now. "Just like a real honeymoon."
Hell yeah, I should kiss you. Not because of any honeymoon, but because you're gorgeous...and your laughter is the sweetest sound I've heard in forever.
He knew he wouldn't, though, knew he couldn't when the shock of the cold cove water had worn off and champagne was clearly swimming through her veins. He set the champagne bottle down in case she stumbled again.
"Come on. Let's get you inside." He settled a hand on her lower back in an effort to guide her toward the porch, her skin hot to his touch despite the wet dress.
Before he could step away, she said, "Well, if you won't kiss me..."
The next thing he knew, her body was melting against him and she was winding her hands around his neck...and pressing her full, warm lips to his.
It was pure instinct to kiss her back--how could anyone resist a woman this beautiful? This sweet. This sexy.
For a long moment, Quinn was caught up in the heat of their kiss, the smooth dance of their tongues. She kissed him eagerly, tasting of sweet champagne and wicked desires. Her tongue traced his lips and her hands slid into his hair, and he was lost to anything but his need to deepen the kiss, to put his hands firmly on her hips and draw her closer and learn more of her taste, and to drink in more of her little gasps of pleasure as they both instinctively closed the distance between them.
A brisk breeze brushed over his skin, bringing his senses back into focus, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to force himself to pull away. He'd already let the kiss go on longer than he should, but holy hell, what she did to him was like nothing he'd ever felt before. She'd felt so right in his arms that it knocked him totally off kilter.
He couldn't let her go, though, since she was obviously still not steady on her feet. With an arm around her waist, he said, "You should probably get some rest, Shelley."
She touched her fingertips to her lips and stared up at him, her eyes guileless. And so damned sensual that his hands itched to pull her closer again. "Or we could kiss some more."
He could still taste her on his tongue, could still feel her sweet curves pressed against him. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss her again. Not one thing on this planet would be better than devouring her mouth again, stripping her wet dress away, tasting every inch of her skin...and getting to learn each and every one of her sounds of pleasure. But Quinn knew it wouldn't be right. Not when her eyes, and her words, were still fuzzy from the champagne.
"Next time we kiss," he promised her before he could think better of making promises to a beautiful stranger on a dark beach, "I want to make sure you remember it."
"How could I forget when it felt so good?"
Her question sent his heart kicking into overdrive again, just the way her kiss had. Knowing better than to try to even answer her question, he simply pulled deep from his control again and suggested, "Do you want me to walk you up?"
She frowned for a moment. "No. Not yet." She looked out at the ocean. "It's so pretty out. I want to sit on the beach for a little while and look at the stars."
It would be safer for both of them if she simply went inside and got into bed--alone. But she'd plopped down on the sand beside his feet. Telling himself the only way to make sure she didn't get back in the water was to stay with her, Quinn grabbed a towel from the porch of her cottage, draped it over her shoulders to keep her warm, then sat down beside her.
"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Shelley lay back on the sand, looking up at the clear night sky. "One of the most stunning things I've ever seen."
"It really is," he agreed as he also lay back on the sand. But he wasn't looking at the stars.
He couldn't stop looking at her. Her hair was soaking wet, and now sandy, too, but her contented smile and the happy sigh she'd just exhaled, told him that she didn't mind it at all.
She turned to face him. "Thanks for saving me on my solo honeymoon, Quinn. Even if I didn't need saving, it was actually kind of fun. Especially," she added with a sexy gleam in her alluring eyes, "that kiss."
That kiss...
It was one he'd never forget.
She fell quiet, then, for long enough that he realized she'd fallen asleep, the smile still on her lips.
Trying not to wake her, he lifted her into his arms again. He'd never actually carried a woman before, but tonight he'd already had her in his arms twice--and both times had felt damn good.
Carrying her up the cottage stairs, he reached for the door and wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. Not only because the resort and the island were both very safe places, but because Shelley didn't seem like the kind of woman who worried about locking her doors too often.
The cottage was dark, save for a light left on above the sink in the kitchenette. He carried her across the threshold and quickly surveyed the cottage. His brother Derek had remodeled it two years earlier, removing the wall between the kitchen and living room and installing a big bay window, complete with a window seat, opening up to a beautiful view of the water. The hardwood floors were wide planked and still in perfect condition.
Quinn hesitated, debating both about putting a sexy strange
r in bed and about wearing his wet, sandy sneakers inside the cottage. His grandfather's voice sailed unbidden into his mind. Treat this resort like a castle and it will always be one.
With Chandler's voice grating against his every nerve, Quinn toed off his wet running shoes and then carried her through the cozy living room, past the built-in bookcases and the stone fireplace. When his feet hit the plush bedroom carpeting, he hesitated again, imagining Shelley waking up and being terrified if she couldn't remember who he was.
For the first time in his life, he hoped a woman would stay asleep when he took her to bed. He walked into the bedroom, pulled back the thick, burgundy comforter and plush sheet, and laid her gently on the bed, still wrapped in the towel. She made a seductive little sound as she curled toward him, one arm arcing over her head, the other across her ribs, with her long dark hair spread across the pillow. Noticing flecks of sand on the sheets, he debated changing her out of the sandy dress and into something else from her closet, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself that much.
Not when she was his every fantasy come true.
Quinn brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, unable to stop drinking in her incredible beauty. She'd thanked him for being a part of her solo honeymoon, but the truth was that he should be thanking her for saving him from a night of living in his own head, going over and over all the things he needed to accomplish by the end of the week.
What was it about her that had his heart taking notice and his mind taking a reprieve from work?
All he knew for sure was that it felt surprisingly natural to press a soft kiss to her forehead and to whisper, "Good night, Shelley Walters. Thanks for making it a surprisingly good one."
Chapter Three
WHAT WAS I thinking last night?
Shelley squinted at the sunlight peeking in through the blinds and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow, wishing she had a toffee-flavored coffee from her cafe. She needed a gallon to come out from under this hangover fog. She'd had only a couple glasses of champagne, but for a lightweight like her, that was easily more than enough. She kicked her feet to get whatever was scratching them off, but every kick abraded her skin. As she flung the covers off and found a smattering of sand in the sheets, pieces of last night started to come back into focus.