More Than Want You (More Than Words 1)

But Keeley wants to…frolic. I can’t think of a better word. She’s splashing and giggling and enjoying life.

It’s contagious. I smile and splatter her with water in return.

With a sigh, she falls against me, still grinning, then steals a kiss. She’s gone before I can pull her in closer, staring out at the vast ocean again.

I sidle up behind her and wrap my arms around her. My lips fall to her shoulder. She’s the perfect height for me to press kisses there. She s

hivers in my arms.

“If you don’t stop making me happy, how are you ever going to get rid of me?”

“Who says I want to?”

She scoffs. “Oh, I know your type. If you’re too busy to come home and take advantage of this view, you’re too busy for a relationship. It’s okay. I get that you want satisfying, not meaningful.”

A few hours ago, I would have agreed with her. Now I don’t know what the hell is going on. An impulsive side of me I would have sworn didn’t exist is telling me that I should try to make something of my connection with this girl. Keeley is interesting. She holds my attention. She’s not into herself—her life, her parties, or her looks. She’s into the people around her. She’s into living. She makes me look at my life differently. Come to think of it, she’s everything I’ve never had in a woman before.

If Britta truly knew this woman, my assistant would approve.

But Griff, the thirty-million-dollar listing, and the task I need to ask of Keeley tomorrow loom. I want to keep her with me longer…but my brother will lose his shit when he meets her. He’ll fall all over himself to win her. He’ll half-ass the Stowe estate to be with her. Doesn’t that sound stupid? But trust me, it’s true. And once the Stowe heirs see he’s too busy chasing tail to chase leads, they will cut him loose. Then bam, I’m in. It’s gold. I’ll celebrate.

But I’ll be celebrating alone.

Well, not exactly. I’ll have Rob and Britta. They’ll make a pretty penny from this deal, too. And I’ll find another woman to make me feel good again, right? Now that I know how important personality and a carefree spirit are, I’ll look for those qualities.

“I may surprise you yet,” I tell her.

Not with the meaningful relationship stuff. Although…I wonder if there’s any chance she’ll agree to distract Griff and continue to sleep with me.

That sounds bad, I know. I probably shouldn’t even consider the possibility. I’m worried about asking, too. I’ve seen what she can do to a man’s gnads. It makes me shudder.

“Really?” She turns in my arms and smiles. “I think I’d like that. Now take me back to your place. It’s getting cold.”

Judging from the position of the moon and the incoming tide, midnight is fast approaching. She’s small, and the wind begins blowing. Her nipples turn hard, and I have to remind myself her reaction isn’t because she wants me again.

I’ll work on that.

I pull another round of gentleman out of my ass, scoop up her clothes, and hand them over. “You got it.”

She wraps her dress around her damp body. It clings everywhere. I stop in the middle of shaking sand out of my pants to stare. She simply sparkles.

“Hurry.” She curls her arms around herself.

I can almost hear her teeth chattering as she shoves her bra in her dress pocket and fetches the bottle of wine.

I’m looking around for my damn boxer briefs when sand pelts my back. It sticks to my skin, and I know it’s going to be impossible to get every grain off before I have to slip my clothes back on.

I whirl around to find Keeley holding in a laugh. “You threw sand at me?”

Her eyes dance. “Oops. My hand must have slipped. My bad.”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

That makes her laugh more.

I raise a brow at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back.”

“Oh, big man with big words.”

“No. Big man with big promises.” I fumble around in my clothes until I finally find my underwear, then do my best to brush off what sand I can before thrusting them on.

“I’ll look forward to that,” she taunts.

I finish dressing and we make our way back toward my unit. She tosses the wine bottle in the nearest bin, and I grab her hand. It feels automatic. By her own admission, she likes me and doesn’t seem to mind that I’m the kind of guy who puts business first. Maybe that will work in my favor tomorrow.

When we reach the condo, I direct her to the guest suite, which has a private bath attached to the separate bedroom. Moments later, the water turns on, and after some rustling, I hear a grateful sigh. I would rather have showered with her, but I have so much sand stuck to my body, I’m not sure I can get clean without getting her dirty again. Okay, that’s not the only issue. I’m also out of condoms in my bathroom.

Once we’re both showered and in the bedroom, though? Yeah. I smile and melt under the spray of water.

As I’m stepping out, my phone rings. I look at the clock. Eleven fifty-two p.m. It’s either an emergency or an international buyer, but either way, there’s no question I’ll answer.

“Maxon Reed.” I wrap the towel around my waist.

Twenty minutes later, I hang up with the client from London who conveniently forgets about the time difference a lot and leave a quick e-mail for Britta about follow-ups from the conversation. I also tell her I’ll be in late tomorrow. I don’t say why, but I know talking to Keeley about Project Griff isn’t likely to be a five-minute process.

Once finished, I pause. I’m not hearing rustling around the rest of the condo. I get the feeling that quiet from her can be dangerous. I frown. Has she gone back to the lanai? Or fucking left me?

After throwing on some shorts and a T-shirt, I charge into the living room—and stop short at the sight of Keeley asleep on my sofa. Her damp hair is wound on top of her head in a haphazard knot. Her face is completely devoid of makeup. Without all the color and sparkle and vampy lipstick, she looks young. And really lovely. I’ve been with women who wear their cynicism all over their faces, even when they sleep. Keeley lies in repose with her hands pressed together under her cheek, every muscle in her body perfectly relaxed.

Do I ever allow my guard down this much and just let go?

I stare a moment more. Should I wake her up and move her to a bed? That strategy holds the most potential for another round of sex. I don’t want to pass up that opportunity, especially if she stops talking to me tomorrow.

“Keeley?” I shake her shoulder.

She doesn’t even open her eyes, merely swats at me with a halfhearted backhand. “Go away.”

I can barely understand her mumble. “Don’t you want a bed?” I fondle my way up her stomach to cradle a breast, and the second I get her flesh against my palm I get hard. “How about round two? C’mon, sunshine. Let me make you feel good again.”

Her little grunt is cute. “No. Happy.”

She rolls over and turns her back to me. I stand, stare, blink. Then I have to hold in a laugh. Apparently, she doesn’t like to have her sleep interrupted. Message received, loud and clear, even if I don’t like the content.

I sigh and fish a blanket out of the closet near the door, then spread it over her supine form. She lets out a contented little sigh. Her rhythmic breathing tells me she’s fallen into deep slumber.

So…I guess that’s it for tonight. I should go to bed and try to grab a few hours of sleep myself. I need to hit tomorrow hard. I have a Griff problem to solve and Keeley is key. I hope she’ll be open to remaining lovers. But from everything I learned about her, I don’t expect it. And if it’s a choice between keeping the woman or crushing my adversary…Griff is going down.

Sunlight burns through my lids as I swim to consciousness. It’s already after sunrise?

Stunned that I’ve overslept—I can’t remember the last time that happened—I open my eyes. The clock in front of me shows three glaring red numbers—9:18?

I’ve normally fielded a dozen calls by now. The damn device starts ringing in earnest at just after six most mornings, but a glance at my nightstand tells me my phone isn’t there.

Gaping, I sit up, raking a hand through my hair. I might have been disoriented a few moments ago, but I’m wide awake now.