The Mighty Quinns: Rogan

But though it was probably going to be a hellish week for him, he relished the chance to get to know her a little better.

Rogan had always been attracted to “easy” girls. Those who didn’t fuss over their appearance and who were ready to surf or bike or hike at a moment’s notice. That was obviously not Claudia Mathison. She was a planner, the kind of woman he usually found irritating. And yet, he found himself strangely attracted to her. Or maybe it wasn’t attraction, but curiosity.

Still, he’d be wise to temper the attraction with a healthy dose of suspicion. She wanted to analyze him, and he wasn’t about to bare his soul to a stranger, even if she was a beautiful, sexy, intriguing woman.

Revealing his insecurities and vulnerabilities wouldn’t do either one of them any good. She’d see him as flawed and he’d be constantly on edge, waiting for her to use the information against him. Hell, he hadn’t even revealed his innermost fears to his own brothers, and they were the two people he trusted most in the world.

Then again, maybe that was why he’d never fallen in love. He’d never trusted a woman enough to let her get close...really close. That kind of trust was a double-edged sword. It could open up a person to love but it could also destroy him in a single blow. Look what had happened to his mother. No, he’d keep his heart to himself.

But her challenge did intrigue him. He was sure he could get the good doctor to loosen up—without revealing any of his secrets.

The lift doors opened and she stumbled inside. Rogan followed her and they stood together as the door closed. She was closest to the control panel and he waited for her to push the button for the eleventh floor.

He smiled to himself. She’d fixed her gaze on the lights above the door again, her pretty face crunched into a frown. “This lift is broken,” she finally said. “It’s not moving. Or is it moving?” She leaned back against the wall. “Maybe I’m the one that’s moving.”

Rogan leaned across her and pushed the button. “I fixed it.”

As they rode up, he closed his eyes for a moment, drawing a deep breath and taking in the scent of her perfume. He usually didn’t care for perfume, but right now, his senses seemed to be operating in overdrive. Everything about her was much more tantalizing than it should be. By the time they reached her room, Rogan was already wondering what it might be like to kiss her.

She had an amazing mouth, wide and expressive, with lips the color of ripe berries. He knew the unwritten rule that a guide should never seduce a client. But Claudia really wasn’t a client. He wasn’t guiding her, he was guiding her patients. And so was she. By all accounts, they were coworkers. At least, that was the story he was telling himself.

He pulled her keycard out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her, but she struggled to make it work. Rogan reached for it, but she brushed him off. “I can certainly get the door open,” she said.

She made an amusing spectacle, her dark hair tumbling around her face, her color high. Each attempt was followed by a soft curse. “Not so quick,” he advised. “And wait for the light to go green before you pull it back out.” Claudia gave it a few more tries before she reluctantly handed the card to him. “You do it.”

He reached around her and unlocked the door, then pushed it open. “After you.”

Claudia turned and stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance. “Thank you for everything you did. I appreciate your...efficiency.”

He held out her drink. “Well, good night then.”

She reached out for it, but miscalculated and ended up knocking the glass into his chest. The vodka sloshed onto his shirt and she reached out to wipe it away. Rogan captured her hand with his and pressed it against his chest, her delicate fingers splaying over the damp fabric of his shirt. His pulse quickened and his heart pounded against her palm.

“Can I ask you a question?” she murmured.

She raised her gaze to his and he fought the urges coursing through him. “Sure,” he said.

“If you’re thinking about kissing me, what’s stopping you?”

Was that an invitation? Or a rhetorical question? He wasn’t sure. But the scent of her hair and the sight of her lush, damp mouth was too much to resist.

At the same time, she was drunk and he wasn’t about to do something that she’d regret the next morning. He bent closer and brushed his lips against her warm cheek.

When he drew back, her green eyes were wide with surprise, her lips parted as if she were about to say something. He fought the urge to take things a step further. Then she threw her arms around his neck and took the decision out of his hands.

Her lips were soft and damp, and as the kiss spun out of control, Rogan smoothed his hands around her waist and drew her closer. So much for him loosening her up. She seemed more than willing to live in the moment, and this moment was surprisingly powerful.

A flood of desire surged inside him, the anticipation acute. And yet, he couldn’t act on it; given her condition, it would be best to make a quick retreat.

He drew away, and before she had a chance to kiss him again or invite him inside, he gently pushed her farther into the room. “Good night, Claudia,” he said, grabbing the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. As he strode toward the lift, Rogan reviewed his last move in his mind. There was an obvious attraction between him and Claudia that couldn’t be denied. But how far was she willing to go to explore it? Once sober, would she shut him down with some excuse about professional behavior? Or would she let down her hair and indulge?

He was a good guide, and he could handle whatever her patients threw his way. But Claudia was a different matter. She seemed to put him off his game, to jumble this thoughts and tease his desire. And with so much riding on the success of this trip, could he risk adding seduction to the adventure?

But was it a risk? After all, he was a master at separating sex from emotion. It wouldn’t be any different with Claudia Mathison.

2 (#ulink_c7f81b07-7697-5dac-842f-29e191c00b26)

CLAUDIA WOKE TO a sharp rap at her hotel room door. She pushed up from the pillows and groaned, realizing that she’d slept in her clothes the night before. Squinting, she tried to make out the time, then cried out when she saw it was already past noon. She hadn’t overslept in years. The latest she allowed herself to linger in bed was 8:00 a.m., and that was only on Sundays.

She scrambled out of bed but her legs got tangled in the sheets and she lurched toward the door, her head pounding. When she pulled it open, she found Rogan standing in the hallway. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier? What’s going on? Where is everyone?”

“We’re waiting downstairs. Did you just wake up?”

“Of course, I just woke up,” she said. “If I’d been awake earlier, I would have been downstairs on time.”

“You’re wearing the same clothes you were wearing last night.”

Leave it to Rogan Quinn to state the obvious. “It’s your fault. You gave me that last drink.” She strode to the bed and began to gather her things. Then she stopped.

The events of the previous evening came flooding back into her mind. Their conversation. The way he’d touched her. The kiss. Warmth rose in her cheeks.

“I apologize, that was unfair. I was feeling sorry for myself and I drank too much. You’re not in any way culpable.”

“Thank you,” Rogan said, glancing around the room. He reached down and picked up an empty bag of crisps. “What did you do, raid the minibar?”

“I was hungry.” She stopped. “Before I go any further, I have something to say. I seem to recall that I kissed you last night. And I want to apologize if I compromised your professional integrity by doing that. I meant no disrespect.”

“We both participated in that kiss,” Rogan said. “And it was quite enjoyable, as I recall. Didn’t you like it?”

Claudia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Of course, I— Yes, it was quite lovely.”

She sank down on the edge of the bed, a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelming her. Rogan had kissed her—or she had kissed him. The particulars really didn’t matter. Though it had been just a brief indulgence, it had been deliciously intriguing. So intriguing that she’d spent a good hour afterward stuffing herself with snacks from the minibar as she tried, with her martini-muddled mind, to analyze exactly what had transpired between them.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Her stomach roiled, and for a second she thought she might be sick. Then, an instant later, she knew she was going to be sick. “Excuse me,” she muttered as she raced to the bathroom.

The humiliation was almost more than she could bear, but there was no stopping the symptoms of a hangover. When she’d finally finished retching, she glanced up to find him watching her from the doorway of the bathroom. Claudia covered her face with her hands. “Go away!” she cried.

She heard the water running and then he was there, sitting next to her on the floor. He pressed the cool cloth to her forehead. “You look quite lovely this morning,” he said.

Claudia managed a quick laugh. “Oh, I feel lovely,” she replied, her voice filled with sarcasm. She tried to get up, but it was too much effort so she leaned back against the side of the bathtub. “I really didn’t mean what I said,” she murmured. “You’ve really been quite wonderful. And I’ve been an utter mess. You must think I’m a first-class loon.”

“No, I think you’re quite wonderful, as well,” Rogan said.

“I can take the truth,” Claudia said. “I specialize in the truth.”