His Final Seduction

She turned, headed toward the exit.

“Jorgie,” he called.

Well, she couldn’t very well ignore him now, could she? That would be rude. She stopped, turned back. “Quint, oh, hi, I didn’t see you there,” she lied nonchalantly.

“Excuse me, ladies.” He threw a smile and a wink to the women. Jorgie thought they were going to melt on the spot. “I need to speak to an old friend.”

He covered the distance between them, linked his arm through hers and pulled her into the corridor. “Thanks, shrimp.”

“Shrimp?” She arched an eyebrow.

“It’s what Keith and I used to call you.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” she said, feeling way more flattered than she should. He’d called her shrimp as a big brotherly term of affection. That meant he saw her as a little sister or an old friend, not a potential sex partner.

“Well…” He raked his gaze over her. “I shouldn’t use the nickname on you. It’s shrimp no more. You’re all grown up.”

“So what were you thanking me for?” she asked, glossing right over that comment.

He punched the button for the elevator. “Rescuing me from my adoring public.”

Jorgie snorted. “Hey, you can’t handle the adoration, don’t dress up like Casanova.”

“You have no idea what a huge burden it is,” he teased, and struck a preening pose. “Being such a sexy beast.”

Jorgie rolled her eyes. “Poor you.”

“You’re pitiless.”

“I don’t have much tolerance for nonsense—”

He nodded. “You’re good for me,” he said. “I need someone to call my bluff. I gotta admit, playing Casanova messes with your head.”

“Don’t blame Casanova. You were like that in high school and I have a feeling you’ve been like that ever since.”

He looked into her eyes. “What can I say? There’s nothing that makes life worth living like having a beautiful woman at your side. What room are you in?” he asked as the elevator opened and he got on with her.

She should have told him it was none of his business, but damn if that endearing grin of his didn’t slip past her defenses. “214.”

“The blue room.” He punched the elevator button for the second floor. “Lady Pompadour stayed there. Did you know she and Casanova were lovers?”

“Good for them.”

“You’re really hard to impress, you know that?”

“It’s all the number crunching. Tends to give one a ‘bottom line’ approach to life.”

Quint stepped back and stared boldly at her bottom.

“Mason,” she said sharply, using his last name to indicate she was displeased with his frisky behavior, but a small part of her was thrilled. It was the same part of her that had been secretly relieved when Brian had left.

“Gerard.” The elevator settled on the second floor with a ping and they got off together.

“You’re mocking me.”

He lowered his eyelids and slanted a sexy look her way. “It’s hard not to. You look so serious.”

“Here we are,” she said. “214. You’ve escorted me to my room, you can go now.” She slashed her key card through the computerized reader installed in the door handle and kneed the door open.

“Wait.” He touched her forearm.

Instantly, the hairs on her arms lifted. He said nothing for a moment. His gaze hooked on her. She forced herself to hold his stare. “Yes?” she whispered.

“Sit with me at dinner.”

“Why?”

“Fend off the she-wolves.”

“Don’t give me that. You love the she-wolves.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. You remind me of home. I don’t see my folks much. Gordy’s married with kids. I just wanted someone to talk to about old times.” He sounded so sincere.

But Jorgie didn’t trust it. She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t some Casanova ploy to get me into bed, is it?”

“I’m shocked that you would suggest such a thing.” He feigned innocence. “Is it working?”

Yes. “No.”

“Come on,” he cajoled, his gaze caressing her face. “For old times’ sake?”

A shiver of awareness tripped down Jorgie’s spine, dueling madly with the part of her that wanted to invite him to join her in bed. She knew he was a playboy. It was clear he’d been well cast as Casanova, but she couldn’t stop the gut-level reaction that whispered “Go for it” into her ear.

The problem was that pesky high school crush. If he was just a good-looking guy interested in a good time, she might be willing go for it. He could very easily be her first casual fling. But there was that nagging infatuation that had had her doodling in her notebook, Mrs. Jorgie Mason, when she was thirteen.

She had two fears about that. One, what if she did have a fling with Quint and it turned out to be lousy? The sweet fantasy of him would be lost to her forever. Then there was the very real possibility that sex with him would be dynamic, unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she’d fall in love with him all over again, while he blithely went on his merry way. She wasn’t in any emotional condition to deal with that.

“Pretty please?” He flashed her one of his trademark smiles and for a fraction of a second that devilish come-play-with-me grin had her on the edge of throwing caution to the wind. Then she thought about how he’d given her that same smile when he was sixteen just before he pulled a prank on her.

Still…he was right. They would both be eating dinner in the main dining hall with the tour group. Why not sit at his table? He had once been her brother’s best friend. It would be rude, wouldn’t it, to deny his request? Plus, they’d be in a public place. What could happen? Maybe he could even teach her a few tricks about how to have an affair while keeping her heart out of the fray of emotional involvement.

“All right,” she conceded, wondering what she was thinking. The cold shoulder she’d given him on the plane was really the only way to deal with a footloose guy like Quint, especially when she was feeling so vulnerable.

“See you at eight.” He winked and strolled out the door.

Jorgie stared after him, awash in the wake of his sexy aura. What in the devil had she just opened herself up for? She’d gotten what she’d come on this trip for. A date with a sexy man to help her forget about what had happened with Brian. But she hadn’t expected that man to be the same guy who’d once dominated her girlhood fantasies. A guy who made her feel both shivery and sweaty at the same time.

He’s not really interested in you, she reminded herself. It’s just the challenge. As long as you don’t get caught up in his charm, you’ll be fine. This is your chance for a true, no-strings sexual adventure. Grab it with both hands and hang on for dear life.