Diamonds Are For Lovers: Satin & a Scandalous Affair

Her second orgasm slammed into her, making her falter and lose her rhythm. Her legs relaxed suddenly from around him, splaying wide as coils of sensation pumped and flowed to every extremity. She sobbed with delight and Quinn straightened a little, lifted her higher, changing the angle to drive new pleasure into her. She was assailed by so much sensation, she couldn’t contain it and was swept away in another inferno of red-hot pleasure that never cooled, only soared higher. Somehow she held on, lifting her legs around his waist again, rising to meet him, until she felt the change in his grip intensify, his arms becoming so rigid, her hands lost purchase. But he gathered her whole body to him, right off the desk, threw his head back and in a groaning rush of breath that went on and on, he pumped, again and again, and then collapsed on top of her.

Minutes later sometime in the next millennium, Dani stirred and tried lifting her head. She was trapped with Quinn’s face buried in her hair on one side. It was an interesting predicament, unable to move, the harsh light of the desk lamp only inches away, burning her face and revealing all her flaws, no doubt. Quinn’s heartbeat, right on top of hers, rattled away at an impossible rate. She swivelled her eyes to the side, saw the devastation on the floor, clothes mixed with papers and with cognac.

Her hair scratched and whispered on the white blotter pad. She blew softly into his ear, repeating the gesture when there was no response. His lashes flickered and he turned his head and licked his lips. Slowly his eyes focussed on her.

“You okay?” he asked weakly.

Dani’s dry lips stretched in a strained smile. Oh, man, was she ever!

He blinked apologetically, lifting his torso a couple of inches. “Sorry. I’m squashing you.”

Quinn Everard was embarrassed, she thought. Like her, he probably didn’t do nasty sex.

That made her smile wider. “I never took you for a desk man.”

He blinked, looking appalled. “I’m not. I’m … sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She bit back a full-on smile. “Only if you call pleasure pain.”

They shifted jerkily, which brought about an interesting sensation since he was still inside her. He lifted a little higher and ran his eyes down her body, making her squirm. Distracted by her belly button jewellery, he tugged lightly on the barbell she wore; a triangular knot of sterling silver, studded with deep red Swarovski Austrian crystals. “Did you make this? It’s very pretty.”

Dani made belly button jewellery only for herself. The precious stones she preferred working with were too expensive, since they were destined, for the most part, to be hidden under clothing.

His big hand, spread wide, covered her belly, then moved slowly up to pass lightly over the tips of her breasts. She squeezed around him, as tight as she could, pleasuring them both. Smiling, he bent his head and tongued a rapidly hardening nipple, even as she felt him harden inside her.

“I think I can dredge up some finesse, if you’d consider giving me a second chance.”

“While I have nothing at all against the desk man—” she smiled and put her arms around his neck, arching up into him “—I wouldn’t be averse to some finesse in the very near future.”

Six

Quinn declared the next day a holiday to celebrate the results of the auction. He’d made all the arrangements by the time she’d showered, and within the hour, they were at Port Douglas Marina boarding a bareboat charter catamaran named Seawind, a ten-metre flared-hull beauty with mainsail.

They sailed out to the Low Isles and snorkelled around the breathtaking underwater garden of the Great Barrier Reef. But by late morning, the area was overrun by hordes of tourists on day trips, so they set sail for a small inlet to put into and enjoy the hamper the charter company provided.

The weather was perfect, calm and clear. Quinn was happy to find that on the water the humidity didn’t bother him at all. Either that or he was becoming acclimatised.

“This is the life.” Dani appeared from below deck with her lime-green sundress on again; he liked the bikini better but she’d burn easily with her skin. And at least he now knew exactly what was under that dress. It would give him something to do later, peeling it off her….

He offered her a plate and glass from the hamper and she stretched her legs out along the seat, sighing with pleasure.

“Ever sailed before?” he asked.

“No. Howard was never interested in boats.”

Quinn popped a cheese-topped cracker in his mouth. “Did you get on?”

“With Howard?” She considered. “Most of the time. He wasn’t averse to sharing his opinion on clothes, friends, music and so on, but I suppose that was his right since he paid the bills.”

She unscrewed the cap of the chilled sauvignon blanc wine and held it up to him.

Quinn had his mouth full but shook his head, holding up a bottle of water instead.

Dani leaned back on the seat with her wine and a plate of nibbles. “He was kinder to me than to the others. I was never going to run his company, so I guess he went easier on me.”

“He bought the shop for you, didn’t he?”

“It was a loan, one I’ve nearly paid off.”

“Why do you think they never married?” Quinn really wanted to know why the bastard never publicly acknowledged Dani as his daughter.

“Who?” She looked blank.

“Your mother and Howard.”

She took a sip of wine, her brow wrinkling. “Why would they marry? He was her brother-in-law.”

“They obviously liked each other well enough to stay together all those years,” he mused aloud.

“They were a bit like an old married couple, I suppose, when he wasn’t out putting it around …” She grinned.

“But she still stayed?” Don’t tell him Sonya wasn’t in for all she could get. Quinn had never met Sonya Hammond, but the Sydney press had long speculated on the relationship between the womanising Howard Blackstone and his sister-in-law. No matter how often the Blackstone publicity machine denied it, Dani’s paternity was subject to debate on a regular basis. Most—Quinn included—assumed she was Howard’s love child.

“I know everyone thought Mum was his mistress,” Dani said moodily. “I’ve lived with the scandalised looks and whispers all my life. But my mum has more class in her little finger than all of them.”

“But there was you.” If Howard didn’t want to acknowledge his love child, why did he flaunt them, keep them in his house?

Her gaze was unwavering, if a little cool. “Howard’s not my father,” she said tiredly. “Look, I know you hate him and I know he has—had—his faults. But he looked after us.” She looked down, picking at the hem of her dress. “Which is a lot more than can be said for my real father.”

“Who is …?”

“Who cares?” she shot back. “Not him, that’s for sure.”

Quinn held up his hands, remembering the cliché about redheads and temper. “Sorry. Touchy subject, huh?”

He sympathised but was still reeling a little to find she wasn’t Blackstone’s daughter. That was a turn up for the books.

“Not touchy, boring.” Her voice dropped. “He didn’t want us. End of story.” She stared moodily out at nothing but sea, and the sun glinted off her copper curls. “I wouldn’t have minded very much if Howard was my father. At least he was there.”

Quinn supposed he should feel guilty. Sleeping with Dani wasn’t a victory over the old man, after all. Regardless, it still felt damn good.

And then she smiled brilliantly, unfolded those glorious legs and came to stand close and rummage through the hamper. “Who taught you to sail?”

“My father.” Quinn spent many a Saturday morning on the water as a kid until his parents decided the boat was a luxury and the money would be better spent elsewhere.

“Was it very rough, growing up in a foster home?”

“Rough?” He smiled. “Sometimes. Bloody noisy. It was more or less open house. I doubt even Mum and Dad knew how many kids were under the roof at any one time.”