Mr. Insatiable (2 page)

He reached out and touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. “I haven’t seen you blush in ages.”

His hand lingered, and a shiver ran down her spine from nape to tailbone. Even now, weeks later, she remembered snapping awake from the dream, confused by the powerful thump of her heart.

He was Tristan’s best mate, and from the moment they’d all met when her family had moved to New Zealand, she’d thought of him as another older brother, even though she’d always been aware of how gorgeous he was. He’d fulfilled the filial role with aplomb, teasing her relentlessly, putting cockroaches in her shoes, hiding her lunchbox at school, typical brotherly torment. But as the years had gone by and she’d watched him work his way through a succession of girlfriends, she’d begun to wonder exactly what it would be like to be the lover of someone like Kit Fawkes. She’d never felt as comfortable with any of her past boyfriends as she felt with him. But then wasn’t that the problem? Maybe things would have gone better with Andy if she’d felt as at ease with him as she did with Kit.

“Do you think it’s weird?” she asked.

He dropped his hand. “What?”

“That we’ve never kissed? I mean, out of our social circle, everyone’s dated everyone else at some stage. Except you and me. Why do you think that is?”

“I’m ugly. I presumed you didn’t want to go to bed with the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

She smiled. All their life they’d flirted, joked, kidded around. He didn’t think she was serious, and of course, she wasn’t. Was she? Her gaze slid to his lips again. What would it be like to kiss him? Would it feel as if she were kissing Tristan, sister to brother? Or would it heat her up from the inside, as it had in the dream?

Concern flickered on his face now. “Come on,” he said. “Spit it out, O’Donnell. You’ve never talked about kissing me before. What’s on your mind?”

She looked away. Down in the foyer, Lisette giggled as Tristan whispered something to her while they waited for the next guest. She could tell Kit part of the truth, at least. She longed to confide in him, to ease the burden. “Andy and I broke up last week.”

For a second, he said nothing. Eventually she looked up.

“Fuck,” he said vehemently. “Oh love, I’m so sorry.”

He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment, enjoying the unfamiliar closeness as he stroked her back and kissed her hair.

After ten seconds or so, though, she bit her lip. It wouldn’t do to let him see her in tears. She’d cultivated a spirited, courageous persona, and she didn’t want to ruin that fragile facade now. Kit hadn’t seen her cry since she was fifteen, and she had no intention of changing that any time soon.

Still she lingered, liking the warmth of his hand on her back, the vibration of his deep voice against her ear as he murmured, “Ssh, it’s okay.”

When he paused to kiss her hair again, she whispered, “Do you think I’m attractive?” It was a provocative statement, but the need for reassurance after her breakup was too great to resist.

Kit stilled, and she wondered whether she’d overstepped the invisible boundary they’d erected over the years. Just like Tristan had always done, Kit had commented on her burgeoning figure as she’d grown up, made lewd comments when she’d worn a bikini and teased her about the generous size of her breasts, but it had always been done in a brotherly way, in front of the rest of the family. He’d never crossed that line and been suggestive or touched her inappropriately. When they were alone, he was the perfect gentleman, honorable and polite, and even if he did continue to tease her, she’d never felt uncomfortable with him. Sometimes she’d wondered whether he actually realized she’d grown up.

He moved back and looked down at her. Even though she wore three-inch heels, he towered over her, his shoulders broad beneath his jacket. She waited for him to make a joke, laugh, or look uncomfortable at being asked to say something personal like that.

Instead, to her surprise, he cupped her face with his hands. Looking into her eyes, he held her gaze for a moment, his blue eyes alight with desire. To her astonishment, he smiled wolfishly and lowered his head.

She stood, transfixed, as he pressed his lips to hers. They were firm and warm, and she waited, breathless, while he kissed her, his mouth moving across hers with tender affection. Her mind raced. He was only trying to comfort her. Brother to sister. As if she were kissing Tristan.
Yeuch
.

Only it wasn’t
yeuch
. And it wasn’t remotely like how she imagined kissing her brother would be.

She rested her palms on his chest, surprised at the firmness of his muscles beneath her fingers. She’d seen him shirtless in the summer, hugged him and given him teasing pushes a gazillion times, but she’d never
touched
him. With his lips still slowly brushing hers, and her heart thudding, she moved her hands up and traced his collarbone beneath the white shirt, and then lifted her hands over his shoulders and around his neck, expecting him to draw back, laughing.

Instead of pulling away, Kit’s arms came around her, strong and tight, his hands sliding down her back to her hips. He pulled her against him, and to her complete and utter shock, pressed the hard length of his erection against her, obvious proof he didn’t feel as if he were kissing a sibling either.

Enya’s mouth opened and she gasped, inhaling sharply when his warm tongue brushed hers. For a second she froze, completely taken aback by his reaction, as confused as she had been in her dream by what he was doing and her reaction to him. He stilled, but before he pulled away, desire shot through her, and her instincts took over. Plunging her tongue into his mouth, she threaded her hands through his hair, pressing herself against him, molding her body to his.

Kit groaned, his hands tight on her butt. Unfamiliar yearning swept through her, and she tightened her hands in his hair, grazing her teeth against his bottom lip, pleasure mounting as he deepened the kiss.

She’d forgotten about the heels. She didn’t wear them very often, and when she lifted herself on tiptoe to press her breasts against his chest, she lost her balance. His weight pushed her back the six inches to the wall behind her, and she hit it with a jolt hard enough to make her gasp and break the kiss.

Kit stepped back. “Shit.” He ran both hands through his hair and then surveyed her, hands on hips, apparently lost for words.

Enya pressed shaking fingers to her lips, her head spinning.

I kissed Kit Fawkes!

She met his gaze nervously. Would he apologize or get angry because she’d turned his comforting peck into a full-blown embrace? Accuse her of threatening their friendship?

Instead, his lips curved.

Enya dropped her hands and tucked them behind her butt against the wall, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face too. She lowered her gaze to the obvious sign of his arousal in his smart black pants.

He glanced at his erection before looking back at her. “What? You’re surprised? Honestly? You’re wearing an incredibly sexy satin dress and your cleavage is...well...” Humor sparked his eyes again. “Very impressive.”

Pleasure at his comment warmed her right through, but she played it light. “I’m only a ‘D’ cup, for God’s sake. I’m hardly Dolly Parton.”

“Sweetheart, you’re thin as a rake, which only serves to make them more prominent. Take it from me–I’m a breast expert. They’re fantastic.”

Their eyes met and locked for about ten seconds. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t a long time at all, but at that moment, it seemed like a geological age.

“So you do find me attractive?” she whispered.

“Oh,” he replied, just as quietly, “If we weren’t in a public place, I’d have you naked by now.” He swiped his fingers over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

Along the hallway from them, someone cleared their throat.

They both turned to see Kit’s father, John, watching them, one eyebrow raised. He looked at Kit and then moved his gaze to Enya. Had he heard what Kit said? For the second time in about five minutes, her cheeks burned.

“Lisette’s looking for you,” John said, walking toward them.

“Thanks.” Enya couldn’t look at Kit. She turned and scurried along the corridor and down the stairs to the ground floor, not giving him another glance.

Chapter

2

Kit watched her run down the stairs, hoping she wouldn’t fall and break her neck in her eagerness to get away from him. “Shit,” he said again, under his breath, wondering what had made him kiss her. He’d wanted to comfort her–that was all.

Yeah, right. He’d been totally noble when he groped her ass and stuck his tongue down her throat. It was the fucking dress. She’d been soft and slippery under his fingers, and the light blue color complemented her beautiful fiery hair perfectly, to say nothing of the fact that she had such an incredible cleavage in the tight bodice that he’d practically been able to see down it to her knickers from his high vantage point. She had a stunning figure. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her all day.

He brushed his hand across his face and glared at his father. “All right, enough of the disapproving glare.”

John tipped his head. “What are you doing, exactly?”

“I have no idea.” Kit heaved a sigh and stared at the ground for a moment. Then he lifted his chin defiantly. “I’m not doing anything. She broke up with Andy.”

John frowned. “Oh, that sucks.”

“Yeah. She was upset.”

“So...you kissed her?”

Kit gritted his teeth. “I tried to comfort her.” John raised an eyebrow, and Kit rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I know.”

John joined him at the balcony, and they both looked down as Enya walked across the foyer. Her elegant grace combined with an enticing wiggle in the high heels. She paused outside the foyer and opened the small bag looped around her wrist, then took out the red lip balm she used all the time and applied a brief slick. He knew now that it was cherry flavor. And if he were to press his lips against hers, he also knew they’d be slightly sticky. He grew hard again at the thought.

She disappeared into the hall, and Kit sighed.

John leaned on the balcony. “How long’s this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Dad. Really. It was just a kiss.”

“That wasn’t a brotherly peck, son.”

Shit
. John had seen it all. Kit winced and scratched the back of his neck. “Ah...no, I suppose it wasn’t.”

“How long have you felt like that about her?”

Kit frowned. “I’ve never thought about her like that.” His father raised an eyebrow.

“All right,” Kit continued. “I’ve always thought about her like that–since she was seventeen or eighteen anyway. She’s gorgeous. But I’d never, ever act on it. Tonight was, well, a blip. She’s family.”

“She’s not your sister.”

“No.” Kit mulled on that.

Now it was John’s turn to sigh. “Son, I’ve never told you how to live your life, have I?”

Kit looked down. “No.”

“And ultimately, it’s your decision. But here’s my advice, whether you want it or not–stay away from Enya O’Donnell.”

Kit looked up to meet his father’s gaze. John’s words surprised him. “I thought you liked Enya.”

“I do. I love her dearly, like she’s my own daughter. You of all people should understand that.”

Kit nodded. John and Cate had always made him feel as if he was their real son, and he knew Sasha felt the same way. His parents were as open and loving with all their friends. He was proud of them for that.

“But she’s damaged goods, Kit.” John’s eyes were gentle. “I’m telling you–don’t go there.”

Kit stared at him, shocked at his father’s warning. “Don’t talk about her like that,” he said icily. “She’s the most fearless, courageous woman I know.” He pulled away from John’s comforting hand. “I can’t believe you’d say something like that about her. I know what happened to her, remember? I helped Tris through it. And it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change how I feel about her.”

“I’m not talking about that,” John said, his voice heavy with exasperation. “Give me some credit.”

Kit studied him, coldness settling in his stomach. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Something told to me in confidence.” John gave him a determined stare. He clearly wasn’t going to elaborate.

“I wouldn’t hurt her,” Kit said softly. “I love her, Dad. How can you doubt that? You know how I feel about my family and friends. I’d die to defend you all.”

“I know. It’s you I’m worried about, son.” John looked as if he wanted to say more, but eventually he sighed. “Come on, we’d better get down to the hall. Tristan’s going to be looking for you.”

Kit nodded and followed John down the steps to the foyer. But his mind whirled. What had his father meant? ‘She’s damaged goods.’ The phrase made his blood boil, but he knew John well enough to believe he hadn’t meant it in a derogatory sense. He was trying to warn his only son that a relationship with her would not be a good idea.

As if Kit didn’t know that already.

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. She’d split up with her boyfriend. She was hurting, but clearly she’d wanted to keep it quiet because she didn’t want to upset anyone on the day of the wedding. Andy wasn’t a close friend of his, but he did mix in their broader social circle. Andy and Enya’s breakup would no doubt cause problems in their group. It had happened in the past. Enya had already pointed out that most of them had cross-dated, even if only briefly, and when the relationships came to an end, it inevitably made things awkward.