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A brisk breeze brushed over his skin, bringing his senses back into focus, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to force himself to pull away. He’d already let the kiss go on longer than he should, but holy hell, what she did to him was like nothing he’d ever felt before. She’d felt so right in his arms that it knocked him totally off kilter.
He couldn’t let her go, though, since she was obviously still not steady on her feet. With an arm around her waist, he said, “You should probably get some rest, Shelley.”
She touched her fingertips to her lips and stared up at him, her eyes guileless. And so damned sensual that his hands itched to pull her closer again. “Or we could kiss some more.”
He could still taste her on his tongue, could still feel her sweet curves pressed against him. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss her again. Not one thing on this planet would be better than devouring her mouth again, stripping her wet dress away, tasting every inch of her skin...and getting to learn each and every one of her sounds of pleasure. But Quinn knew it wouldn’t be right. Not when her eyes, and her words, were still fuzzy from the champagne.
“Next time we kiss,” he promised her before he could think better of making promises to a beautiful stranger on a dark beach, “I want to make sure you remember it.”
“How could I forget when it felt so good?”
Her question sent his heart kicking into overdrive again, just the way her kiss had. Knowing better than to try to even answer her question, he simply pulled deep from his control again and suggested, “Do you want me to walk you up?”
She frowned for a moment. “No. Not yet.” She looked out at the ocean. “It’s so pretty out. I want to sit on the beach for a little while and look at the stars.”
It would be safer for both of them if she simply went inside and got into bed—alone. But she’d plopped down on the sand beside his feet. Telling himself the only way to make sure she didn’t get back in the water was to stay with her, Quinn grabbed a towel from the porch of her cottage, draped it over her shoulders to keep her warm, then sat down beside her.
“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” Shelley lay back on the sand, looking up at the clear night sky. “One of the most stunning things I’ve ever seen.”
“It really is,” he agreed as he also lay back on the sand. But he wasn’t looking at the stars.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. Her hair was soaking wet, and now sandy, too, but her contented smile and the happy sigh she’d just exhaled, told him that she didn’t mind it at all.
She turned to face him. “Thanks for saving me on my solo honeymoon, Quinn. Even if I didn’t need saving, it was actually kind of fun. Especially,” she added with a sexy gleam in her alluring eyes, “that kiss.”
That kiss…
It was one he’d never forget.
She fell quiet, then, for long enough that he realized she’d fallen asleep, the smile still on her lips.
Trying not to wake her, he lifted her into his arms again. He’d never actually carried a woman before, but tonight he’d already had her in his arms twice—and both times had felt damn good.
Carrying her up the cottage stairs, he reached for the door and wasn’t surprised to find it unlocked. Not only because the resort and the island were both very safe places, but because Shelley didn’t seem like the kind of woman who worried about locking her doors too often.
The cottage was dark, save for a light left on above the sink in the kitchenette. He carried her across the threshold and quickly surveyed the cottage. His brother Derek had remodeled it two years earlier, removing the wall between the kitchen and living room and installing a big bay window, complete with a window seat, opening up to a beautiful view of the water. The hardwood floors were wide planked and still in perfect condition.
Quinn hesitated, debating both about putting a sexy stranger in bed and about wearing his wet, sandy sneakers inside the cottage. His grandfather’s voice sailed unbidden into his mind. Treat this resort like a castle and it will always be one.
With Chandler’s voice grating against his every nerve, Quinn toed off his wet running shoes and then carried her through the cozy living room, past the built-in bookcases and the stone fireplace. When his feet hit the plush bedroom carpeting, he hesitated again, imagining Shelley waking up and being terrified if she couldn’t remember who he was.
For the first time in his life, he hoped a woman would stay asleep when he took her to bed. He walked into the bedroom, pulled back the thick, burgundy comforter and plush sheet, and laid her gently on the bed, still wrapped in the towel. She made a seductive little sound as she curled toward him, one arm arcing over her head, the other across her ribs, with her long dark hair spread across the pillow. Noticing flecks of sand on the sheets, he debated changing her out of the sandy dress and into something else from her closet, but he wasn’t sure he trusted himself that much.
