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Authors: Noelle Adams

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BOOK: Playing the Playboy
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But it was just one day’s delay, and this gorgeous woman was so much more tempting than the onerous task waiting for him at the inn.

He gave a half-shrug. “That can wait.”

“Do you normally pick up stray women on the side of the road?”

“I try not to be exclusive. I pick up stray women wherever I go.”

To his satisfaction, she burst into laughter.

Then he felt a flicker of guilt, knowing he should be working now instead of indulging his interest in this luscious stranger. He pushed the feeling aside, though.

Picking up a woman was easy. Much easier than following through on everything he’d left undone.

***

Laurel’s heart was racing, and her hands were trembling, and her breath was coming out in embarrassing little pants.

She’d been planning to act slightly nervous about parasailing to give Andrew the chance to act manly and protective.

She hadn’t expected to be genuinely terrified.

Despite the unfortunate beginning, the Plan was going pretty well now. Andrew seemed interested in her and very willing to spend the day with her, which didn’t surprise her since he was evidently in the habit of shirking unpleasant responsibilities.

They were now settled on the boat and would ascend in the parasail in just a few minutes.

After that, they would keep hanging out until they ended up in a particular bar. He would come onto her. She was sure of it.

Coming onto women was his
modus operandi
.

Then would come the hardest part of the Plan, but she was convinced she could go through with it. She kept telling herself women slept with men all the time they weren’t really into. She’d sometimes had sex with Jerry, her husband, when she wasn’t really in the mood, just because he’d wanted to and it wasn’t that big a deal to her.

Andrew was an attractive man, and she needed this. She
needed
it. Having sex with him wouldn’t be a big deal either.

Then tomorrow the advantage would be entirely hers when he discovered he’d slept with the widow he’d come to victimize. She would have all the ammunition she needed to get the Damons to back off

She had absolutely nothing else with which to wage this battle, not in the face of a juggernaut like Damon Enterprises. She had no husband, no connections, only one year of a college education, no credit after the bankruptcy, and just a few thousand dollars to her name.

Her Master Plan was all she had, and she was strong enough to carry it out.

She just hadn’t planned on being so ridiculously nervous about going up in the parasail.

Frankly, it was embarrassing.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Andrew said, the wind ruffling his thick dark hair. He’d changed into shorts and a t-shirt and now looked relaxed and masculine.

He really was obnoxiously handsome. No man had the right to look so hot and still be such a womanizing ass and a member of a heartless, money-grubbing family.

“I know,” she said, trying to hide her nerves. Since her fear was real, she didn’t want him to see it. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable with anyone—not the way she’d been vulnerable with Jerry and still be paying the price—and she definitely couldn’t be vulnerable with a Damon.

“They do this all the time. Kids do it. It’s perfectly safe.”

“I know.” Her voice had a slight edge to it, since hearing that kids could do what she was nervous about doing was not what she wanted to hear.

“Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I’m usually much better about landing on the right thing to say.”

Distracted despite herself, she couldn’t help but smile at his wry tone. “Somehow, I’m not surprised. But I’m really fine. I want to do this. I just don’t like feeling out of control.”

“My brother is like that.”

“He gets scared about going parasailing?”

“He’d never forgive me if I said something like that. No. I just meant he likes to be in control all the time. He likes to feel like life is stable, like he can always handle whatever he’s faced with. Control is really important to him.”

“It’s not important to you?”

He gave a half-shrug. “It just doesn’t bother me so much—feeling out of control.”

She stared at him, forgetting her nerves as she tried to imagine what it must be like to not always feel like you were grappling to hold onto a world that was slipping out of your fingers. “So what
does
bother you?”

“I don’t know. Feeling trapped, I guess. Feeling like I might never be free.” He glanced away, looking suddenly self-conscious, as if he’d said more than he’d intended. When he met her eyes again, he was his usual charming self. “Anyway, it’s just the beginning of the ride that feels like you’re out of control. Once you’re up there, it will feel a lot more stable.”

Laurel was still shaky as she thought about the ascent, but she forced herself to smile again. “Good.”

“Hey, you don’t have to do this at all, you know.” He reached out and cupped her cheek briefly in a supportive gesture that felt natural, instinctive, just part of who he was.

She leaned into his warm hand briefly until she realized what she was doing. “I know. But I want to. I don’t like to let silly fears defeat me.”


That
I can understand.”

There was no more time for real conversation. It was time to ascend, and all Laurel could think about was the wind in her face and the rising adrenaline and the miles of sea, sky, and cliffs surrounding her.

They were going up together, both harnessed into the same apparatus, so Andrew kept talking to her as she tried to catch her breath. He kept making dry comments until she laughed.

Parasailing was an essential part of her Plan and always had been.

She certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy it.

***

Two hours later, she was sitting at a bar next to Andrew, having a beer and trying to get control of the thrilling high lingering from parasailing so she could concentrate again on her Plan.

Andrew was telling her about a paragliding trip he’d made in the Rockies. He’d evidently done every extreme sport known to man. She’d found out as much in the research she’d done on him, and she’d cynically assumed it was a futile effort to feel like his empty life was worth something.

He seemed different, now that she met him. His affinity for wild sports wasn’t really an exercise of emptiness—more an outlet for a vibrant personality that pushed against any restraints, that never wanted to be tied down.

She kept reminding herself he was the world’s biggest player, leaving broken female hearts across two continents. He wouldn’t have been so successful with women if he didn’t come across as incredibly appealing.

She could easily see how so many women fell for him, even with his dubious reputation.

He was warm, laughing, uninhibited. He seemed to really listen to her,
see
her.

“So I said,” Andrew went on, obviously coming to the punchline of his story, “that I didn’t mean to land in his pool. It was merely an unfortunate miscalculation in navigation.”

Laurel couldn’t seem to stop laughing as she imagined the scenario in vivid detail—his paragliding his way into someone’s pool and trying to explain to the owner and his two Rottweilers.

“Unfortunately, he didn’t appreciate the apology,” he concluded, his mouth tilting up in adorably repressed amusement.

“What did he do?”

“He came after me with his cane. I had to flee, soaking wet and dragging my equipment behind me. At least he didn’t sic the dogs on me.”

Laurel choked on her beer, overcome with hilarity. She laughed until tears streamed out of her eyes.

Andrew was laughing too, although more subdued than she was. When she could finally focus on his face, she noticed hot admiration in those vivid green eyes.

She was suddenly terrified.

This was Andrew Damon.
Damon
. He and his family were trying to take away everything that belonged to her. She’d worked for years to keep her inn afloat, since Jerry had been in a downward financial spiral since shortly after their marriage, and the Damons were now threatening all she’d poured into it.

And here she was laughing hysterically and enjoying his warm admiration, as if he’d been any other attractive man.

She’d been crazy to think she could do this. She wasn’t any good at pretending. She’d never even been good at flirting. When she’d been hired as a waitress in that strip joint in West Virginia, she’d worn a very skimpy outfit and the manager kept telling her to flirt more with the customers She’d tried, since she’d always been eminently practical and she knew she’d make more money that way, but she just didn’t know how to flirt the way other women did. She knew how to work, and that was pretty much it.

But there was no way to work her way out of this situation. The Damons were going to take her inn. The only way she could save it was having sex with a stranger.

She couldn’t do it. While practically, it was the best plan—the only plan—she just didn’t have it in herself to do as she’d planned. Reacting instinctively to a sudden surge of terror, she jumped off the bar stool and fumbled in her purse for an appropriate sized bill.

“I’ve got it,” Andrew began, when he saw she was trying to pay for the beer. “What’s wrong?”

His humor had vanished, and he looked confused and concerned.

“Nothing.” She rubbed her face in an attempt to pull herself together. “I’ve got to go. I really enjoyed this afternoon. Thank you.”

“But at least tell me your na—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. She just fled the bar and hurried down the walk to where her car was parked.

Andrew followed her. “What’s going on?” he demanded, catching up to her in the dark alley behind the building.

Exactly where she’d needed to get him for her Plan to work out. She took a deep breath, wondering if her panic might be just a passing thing and she could go through with it after all.

The were positioned exactly right. The high-end shop that catered to tourists on the other side of the alley had a conveniently positioned security camera. She’d always arranged to get the footage from an easily persuaded manager.

Andrew didn’t touch her, but his presence seemed to trap her in place.

“Nothing. I’m sorry.” She stared down at her hands, trying to find the courage and will she needed.

Sex didn’t have to be a big deal.

He was obviously trying to put clues together in his mind. “Are you married?”

“No! Of course, I’m not married.” She lifted her eyes to meet his in her surprise.

His expression changed, softened into something hot and almost tender. He stepped forward. “Then why are you running away from me?”

She was still trembling, but for a different reason now. She was mesmerized by his expression. Couldn’t possibly look away. “I’m…I’m not.”

He almost smiled. “Liar.”

He raised his hand and cupped her face, and there was no way she could pull away. Every part of her was responding to his expression.

Before she knew what was happening, she was leaning toward him, and then he was tilting his head down for a kiss.

It wasn’t like any kiss she’d had before, and it wasn’t just because he was so good at it—although he definitely knew what he was doing.

His lips were skillful but eager, and she couldn’t help but ease her lips apart when she felt him nudging with his tongue.

Every nerve in her body was firing off in excitement. Her head spun and her body pulsed as she tried to process what was happening.

She lifted her hands to clutch at his t-shirt, and he wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her more snugly against him.

She gasped for breath when their mouths finally parted and then gasped again when he kept kissing her, nibbling little lines across her jaw and down her throat.

“Oh God.” She let her head fall back as shivers of pleasure ran down her spine and a pressure began to build between her legs.


Now
will you tell me your name?” he murmured, his voice deliciously textured.

She shook with laughter, fisting her hands in his hair, holding on however she could.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous.” He slid a hand down to her bottom and then even lower to her thigh, lifting it up slightly until she wrapped one leg around him and shamelessly rubbed herself against his hip.

She could feel his body tightening quickly. He was obviously as aroused as she was.

“Where are you staying?” he asked at last. He’d broken the deep kiss but leaned his forehead against hers, occasionally pressing a little kiss against the side of her mouth.

His body was coiled tightly, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her middle in a way that made her shiver in anticipation.

She hadn’t had sex in a long time.

She hadn’t had sex since her husband died.

This man was a Damon, and he would strip her of everything she had if she let him.

BOOK: Playing the Playboy
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