Wicked Nights (Men of Discovery Island 2)

Cal didn’t wear his thoughts and his emotions on his face, but he’d made those sexy, growly noises, so that had to be a positive sign, right? He kissed with his eyes closed, and he had impossibly long eyelashes. When she’d snuck a peek, he’d seemed both hungry and determined. And the touch of his callused fingers... Well, letting go of Cal had been surprisingly difficult.

She eyed the hotel. The cruise ship execs had unexpectedly scheduled a meeting for this afternoon, claiming they had a decision to share, and her new policy was no more kisses until she won. She needed to focus on getting the contract—not on his broad shoulders or sexy presence. Cal was a take-charge kind of man and alpha to the core, so waiting guaranteed she didn’t lose control of the situation. Win, and she’d have Cal to herself on her own terms for one hot night. Seeing him give up his tightly honed control was simply a bonus. Cal wasn’t the kind of man who took orders in bed—but for one night, he’d take them from her. Her big, bad rescue swimmer wouldn’t like it at all, but too darned bad. He’d be all hers.

She couldn’t wait.

Right on cue, a certain sexy SEAL rode up on his motorcycle. She had a moment to wonder where he was coming from—because his dive shop was right around the corner—but maybe he’d been out at the Brennan place. His family lived on Discovery Island year-round and had an enormous, rambling old house a couple of miles outside town. The home sported the kind of cheerful, shabby chic she’d seen on the pages of various magazines and was a far cry from her own family’s summer cabin. Her cabin was a euphemism for “four walls held together with baling wire and duct tape.” She’d probably wake up in the ocean one day.

Since she’d spent the morning doing the books at Dream Big and Dive, she’d been just around the corner, and she’d walked. Which—she shot a glance at her sandals with their three-inch heels—had been a stupid thing to do. Her knee would hurt like the devil later tonight, but she’d chosen the shoes because right now she needed to feel sexy. Powerful.

Cal should have looked out of place wearing a suit and straddling a motorcycle, but he didn’t. He also probably had another PowerPoint slide presentation, which he’d use to wow the assembled minions, in the messenger bag thrown over his shoulder. She hadn’t slept well, which she blamed on Cal. If he hadn’t been such a good kisser, she wouldn’t be gritty-eyed from all the tossing and turning she’d done. She headed for the door. The sooner the meeting started, the sooner she could win the contract and put all this behind her.

“Ignoring me?” The knowing rasp of his voice almost had her pausing.

Almost.

The truth was: absolutely. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking when she’d kissed him. And the blame rested solely on her shoulders. As did their bet, when she thought about it. Whatever. Shaking Cal out of his complacency was practically a public service.

Kissing him had nothing to do with how he’d made her feel.

Absolutely nothing at all... Liar, liar, pants on fire, the voice in her head chanted, and her libido nodded along happily. Darn it. This was not supposed to be happening. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything for Cal other than a little friendly competition. She didn’t need things to change.

“Definitely ignoring me.” Warm male hands cupped her shoulders, halting her in her tracks. A little zing shot through her as his breath gusted past her ear.

“Apparently, I’m not succeeding.” She reached for the door, but he beat her to it.

“You’re losing the battle,” he agreed cheerfully and pushed the door open, motioning her to go through first.

She considered standing there on the sidewalk, but Cal was stubborn. Since he had the door open, he’d probably stand there until hell froze over or she walked away. And walking away meant giving up on the contract, which wasn’t happening, either.

She brushed past him into the hotel, trying to ignore the way the accidental touch brought the hard muscles of his arm to her attention. The door slammed shut behind her, and Cal fell into step beside her, easily matching her pace. Of course, he wasn’t wearing heels.

“I take it this means you don’t want to talk about last night.”

She made a shut-up-now gesture, because, hello, they were in the hotel’s very public lobby, and they both had to live on the island. She knew Cal’s mother. Amy Brennan loved her sons, Cal included, but she also lived to see them married off and reproducing. Cal was the most stubborn holdout of her three sons, so if Mrs. Brennan believed there was any chance Piper and Cal were getting together... Nope. Not happening. Piper was still hoping no photographic evidence of last night’s embrace would show up on Facebook.