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As his words sank in, Hollis knew that she was just beginning to get to know the real Dylan Ford. And, that he had many layers, some of which he kept well-hidden.
“I never knew that,” she said. Carefully, she placed her Dad’s knife back on the night stand and turned a quizzical gaze on him. She had judged him too harshly, she realized. Everyone made mistakes, including her, and maybe it was time to start trusting Dylan. Her Dad had and he had been a good judge of character. “How close were you and my Dad exactly?”
“I looked up to him and, in a way, he was a mentor to me. Always giving a bum like me second chances, anyway.”
She tilted her head and, for the first time, Hollis saw the real Dylan Ford. Not as the tombraider she had known or the charmer who flustered her or the arrogant tech genius who annoyed her because he was always right. Tonight, in the glow of candlelight, she saw a man who was vulnerable. And, a man she wanted to get to know much better. Hollis took another swig of the vodka. “So, what about you, Mr. Ford?”
There was a flirty tone in her voice and Dylan stiffened. A wary look shadowed his face. “What about me?”
“Other than hitting the motherload and opening a jazz club in New Orleans, what interests you?”
His gaze met hers and his pulse thundered. He took a fortifying drink and debated how to answer. Then, he decided to go with the truth. “You interest me,” he admitted, his voice low and deep.
The bluntness of his answer made her stomach plummet. When he didn’t elaborate, she gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, really?”
“You always did, Hollis. But, I knew it would never work.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You were the good girl. I was the bad boy. Your father liked me, but I don’t think he liked me enough to date you.”
With a chuckle, Hollis lifted the little bottle and drained the rest of the vodka.
“So, I always kept my distance,” Dylan admitted. “Besides, you made your feelings for me pretty clear.”
“Maybe I misjudged you.”
Their gazes connected and the entire atmosphere around them seemed charged. Seemed to electrify and pulse with seduction like the Cuban city beyond the balcony.
Hollis moved closer, sliding up in front of him with a sly smile. “Tell me,” she said in a soft whisper.
“Tell you what?” His hand curled around the edge of her robe, digging into the soft material. She was so close and he inhaled her scent-- vanilla and coconuts. His stomach clenched with desire and his groin tightened.
“What your dream was about.”
So, she did wonder, he realized. It felt as though his insides turned to liquid fire. Dylan raised his hands and cupped her face. “This,” he said. Then, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he asked, his voice husky. He didn’t want to scare her off and kept his passion in check.
The kiss was almost sweet and far too gentlemanly for Hollis. She wanted a pirate’s kiss and she grabbed the lapels of his robe, pulled him closer and crushed her mouth against his.
She just gave him the greenlight, he realized, and the gentle restraint he maintained before vanished. Dylan pulled her down onto the bed, moving over her body and kissing her with a passion that had been building for years. A passion that he’d kept restrained for far too long.
The dream he wanted to tell her about before when they were at the bar, when he had teased her, was nothing compared to the actual experience of feeling her soft lips moving against his like they did now. His mouth latched onto hers, tongue thrusting deeply and exploring her sweetness.
As her fingers raked through the hair at the nape of his neck, his mouth dipped from her luscious lips, and he traced his tongue along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. “You taste so fucking good,” he whispered. “Just like I knew you would.”
Hollis released a shaky breath as his tongue flicked at her collarbone and his hands slid the top of her robe apart. “God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, admiring the perfect curve of her breasts. His long fingers pulled the robe’s sash loose and it fell open to reveal more perfection.
Shit, he knew she had a good figure-- flat stomach, long legs, curves for days-- because he’d seen her in a wetsuit many torturous times. But, this was different. So much more than he had ever imagined.
Hollis moved restlessly beneath his roaming hands and a small moan escaped from between her parted lips when she felt his head dip, mouth leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses across her breasts and down her midsection. When he paused, head hovering above her trembling stomach, she froze.
Waiting to see where that luscious mouth would travel next.
Dylan’s hands moved over her hips, curving inward, and then his long fingers found the wet place between her thighs. With a cry, Hollis arched her back.
Hollis may have hated Dylan Ford for years, but she always suspected he knew exactly what to do with a woman in bed. And, she was quickly learning that he was far superior than she had ever imagined. As his fingers swirled and toyed with her throbbing flesh, Hollis bit her lip and felt her hips buck as he slipped a finger inside her.
“So good,” she murmured, grinding against his hand.
