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  Yeah, she wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

  Incredibly stupid, considering he’d bedded his fair share of women. Whether it was the length of time since he’d last had sex or the strangely floundering feeling being with Adele elicited, he had no idea, but this wary edginess was unusual.

  He liked sex. Liked the high. Hell, what guy didn’t?

  But with Adele staring at him with a mix of concern and tenderness, those nerves of his? Completely shot.

  “I’m all for action.” She plucked the foil packet out of his hands and ripped it open. “Come closer.”

  Only too happy to obey her command, he scooted closer, holding his breath as she unsnapped the button on his pants and pushed them down.

  A low whistle escaped her lips as she delved into his boxers, the first brush of her fingers against his dick making him jerk.

  Blood pounded through his veins. He could hear the rhythmic beat in his ears as she freed him.

  “Wow,” she said, her gaze fixed on his dick as she rolled the condom on and damned if he’d never seen anything so erotic.

  When she reached the base she cupped his balls, rolling them between her fingers like a couple of stress balls. Insanely, he had an urge to laugh. Never again would he be able to look at the pair on his desk without remembering this moment.

  She slid a finger behind his balls and applied pressure to the skin, making him jump with the stab of intense pleasure.

  “Keep that up and we won’t get to the good stuff,” he said, stilling her head and scooting back down her body.

  “This is all good.” She propped on her elbows, watching him, as he lifted her skirt again and gazed at nirvana.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” he said, a moment before dipping his head to tongue her.

  Her hips arched up to meet him and he feasted. Sliding his tongue between her folds, licking her clit, sucking her.

  She muttered words he could barely hear, incoherent in her pleasure as she reached for his head, unconsciously guiding him.

  Reid wanted to prolong this, wanted to wring every last ounce of sensation out of her, but the longer she made those soft, mewling sounds, the harder it was to hold back.

  As she tensed beneath him and arched her hips higher, he picked up the pace, swirling his tongue over her clit, faster and faster until she screamed, tearing out half his hair in the process.

  The pain didn’t register. It had nothing on the ache in his balls.

  “Need you. Inside me. Now.”

  He liked how she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to demand it. Intelligent, gorgeous and feisty. A winning combination. One he’d regretfully walk away from in less than an hour.

  Annoyed by reality intruding again, he propped over her, his dick nudging her in a prolonged moment of pure anticipation.

  Not for long, as she tilted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist and he was lost.

  He plunged into her, her slick tightness drawing a low groan from somewhere deep within.

  She felt incredible. Tight. Wet. Heaven.

  “Faster,” she demanded, her nails clawing his back, shattering his intentions to take it slow.

  “Reid, please…”

  He surrendered, his control snapping when he caught her whispered, “Fuck me good.”

  So he did, slamming into her, faster and harder than he’d ever thought possible. The tension built too quickly but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything bar satisfying them both.

  Sand grated across their sweat-slicked skin. Yep, beyond caring. With every thrust, his body tightened. The pleasure escalating along with her cries, decadent and haunting.

  He came in a mind-blowing rush, his yell echoing hers and bouncing off the cave walls.

  Unable to think let alone speak, he sagged on top of her, savoring the contact, wishing they were naked. Next time.

  The second the thought registered there wouldn’t be a next time, his gut inexplicably griped. He knew then he was in trouble, for he didn’t have time in his life right now for a relationship, let alone a long distance one.

  But as Adele wriggled out from beneath him, traced his lower lip with a fingertip and said, “Thank you,” he damn well wished he did.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “That island sure agreed with you,” Chantal said, popping peanuts into her mouth as she reclined behind her monstrous desk at Burlesque Bombshell. “You’re glowing.”

  “It’s a three day tan,” Adele said, hoping she wouldn’t blush, knowing it was a lost cause.

  With her fair skin, she’d been unable to control the stupid, incriminating blushes since she’d been a kid, standing in front of the principal trying to explain why she was late for the fifth week in a row.

  Caring for an alcoholic mom from the time her dad had abandoned them when she’d been seven meant she’d tolerated a lot of school inquisitions, equating to a ton of blushes. Beyond annoying.

  “Tan my ass.” Chantal scrunched the empty peanut bag and threw it in the trash. “That’s a sex glow.”

  The heat flushing Adele’s cheeks increased. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I?” Chantal winked. “I happen to remember a certain accountant disappearing toward the end of the wedding reception with a certain politician.”

  “Reid and I took a walk on the beach.”

  And ended up having stupendously great sex, but that was strictly on a need to know basis.

  Chantal smirked. “Don’t you mean you and Reid had sex on the beach?”

  Adele shot Chantal a death glare and her boss laughed. “Come on, Del, share a little something with your single friend.”

  Adele waggled a finger at her. “You wouldn’t be single if you worked less and dated more.”

  “Could say the same about you, sweetie.” Chantal made cutesy puckering noises. “Or is that about to change now Reid’s on the scene?”

  “He’s not,” Adele said, hating how a teensy weensy piece of her heart ached at the thought. “He’s got a campaign to run in LA.”

  “Two words for you.” Chantal held up two fingers. “Long distance.”

  If only. But Adele wasn’t a fool. After their incredible encounter on the beach at Prince Island, she’d kissed Reid goodbye and walked away with her head held high, wishing all the while he’d call her back. He didn’t. And she pragmatically accepted the truth. They’d had an unforgettable one-night stand and that’s where it ended.

  He’d been running from unspoken demons that night, she’d been drowning her sorrows in him rather than a bottle. Never a bottle. Not a chance in hell she’d end up like her mom.

  Ironic, the happiest day of Zazz’s life had been one of the saddest for Adele. The loneliness had crept up on her as she’d watched her friend marry Dorian, their obvious joy and infatuation with one another bringing tears to her eyes.

  She wanted that. Deep down, in the soft part of her heart she’d locked away years earlier, she craved unconditional love. And a family.

  But she was resigned to it not happening. How could it, when loving someone that much meant revealing her secrets and a past she’d rather forget?

  No, she couldn’t reveal her shame to anyone and that’s what true intimacy entailed.

  Hence the dogged, soul-destroying loneliness that made her do something totally uncharacteristic and have sex with a guy she’d only just met.

  Not just any guy.

  Reid Harper. Sex lord extraordinaire.

  Chantal wolf-whistled. “He was that good, huh?”

  “Better,” Adele reluctantly admitted, knowing she’d never forget the best sex of her life. “Imagine what he could’ve done if we’d had a room?”

  Chantal tsked-tsked. “You could’ve hung a scarf on our door handle or something.”

  “What are we, in college?”

  Chantal shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who could’ve had even more sensational sex if you’d had a room.”

  Adele sighed and push
ed away the cooling latte on her desk. “Want to hear something crazy?”

  Chantal wiggled her fingers in a give-it-to-me gesture. “Crazy’s my middle name. Spill.”

  “If we’d had a room, I was scared I wouldn’t want to leave.”

  “What’s wrong with that? The guy’s a babe.”

  “A babe who’s on his way to the senate. A guy who lives in LA. A guy would wouldn’t be seen dead with an ex-Bombshell on his arm.”

  Chantal waved away her concerns. “Trivialities. If you wanted to date you’d find a way.”

  No, Adele couldn’t, because no one knew her real past, not even Chantal, who’d given her a shot at her first job in Vegas when she’d lobbed into town, desperate to outrun her past.

  Adele had danced as a Bombshell for three years while studying part time and when she’d qualified as an accountant, Chantal had offered her another job.

  Chantal wouldn’t judge her, she knew that, but the shame of what Adele had done to survive dogged her every day, no matter how many smart designer suits she wore or spreadsheets she pored over.

  “Did he mention staying in touch?”

  Adele shook her head. “I didn’t give him a chance. I kinda bolted up the beach, ran into Jess and pushed her in Jack’s direction to sort out their problems, then hid out in the villa ’til Reid flew off the island.”

  “Jess said you were amazing that night, and look how brilliantly her romance has turned out.” Chantal rolled her eyes. “I’m happy for those two but boy, are they a couple of love-struck schmucks.”

  Adele smiled in agreement.

  “As for you…” Chantal made chicken noises and flapped her arms. “You could always call him?”

  “And say what? Hey Reid, Del here. Want to hook up again because I can’t get you out of my mind?” Adele snorted. “Yeah, like that would go down a treat.”

  Chantal steepled her fingers and leaned back in her executive chair. “I’m going to give it to you straight, hun. You’ve worked with me for five years and in all that time I’ve never seen you react like this over a guy.”

  Adele opened her mouth to protest and Chantal held up a finger. “Let me finish. Sure, you’ve dated. Dinner here, movie there. But no guy in Vegas has ever put that sparkle in your eyes, so I reckon you should hang onto this one for a little longer. Have some fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Adele didn’t want to contemplate the worst, for it could ruin Reid’s burgeoning career before it had begun.

  She’d never do that. To anyone. Especially a guy who she’d shared a unique connection with.

  Chantal was right. Adele had never felt like this about any other guy. Ludicrous, because she barely knew him and all they’d shared was quickie sex.

  But for that all too brief time they’d chatted at the reception, the invisible pull between them had been undeniable.

  She’d wanted to know more.

  She’d wanted to know everything.

  Instead, she’d have to settle for her memories and a futile wish of what may have been.

  Reid paced his office overlooking Rodeo Drive, blind to the view, ignoring the constant ping of emails landing in his inbox.

  He’d pulled two all-nighters since he’d returned from Prince Island but not even the constant work focus could make him forget.

  Adele.

  Vanilla fragrance. Deep russet. Flawless skin.

  The way she’d yelled his name with abandon when she’d come.

  Dammit. He kicked at the trashcan, his designer loafer connecting with the stainless steel in a satisfying thud. Wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  Felt like he needed to head to the gym and do a three-hour workout with a punching bag, anything to burn off the relentless energy coursing through his veins like a drug.

  He’d been on this high ever since she’d run away from him on that beach and despite his efforts to find her afterward, she’d vanished.

  He’d located her villa, he’d pounded down the door, he’d contemplated changing his flight plans. In the end, a crisis at the office had tampered his manic obsession to find her and he’d boarded Dorian’s jet with the bride and groom, content to leave them alone in their marital bliss while he mulled the most scintillating encounter of his life.

  It had nothing to do with the fact he hadn’t got laid in nine months. For while the sex had been memorable, his burning desire for Adele had more to do with an indefinable something she possessed that could drive any sane guy wild.

  He couldn’t forget her.

  No matter how many meetings he chaired, how many conference calls, how many hours he spent at his desk, she was all he could think about. And if he didn’t do something about it soon, he’d go stir crazy.

  Work was everything to him. Obtaining an office of power and making a difference had been his goal for as long as he could remember.

  But now he had a new goal and it centered on contacting one luscious redhead.

  Maybe if they caught up again it would dispel the exotic mystery surrounding their first encounter and the gloss would wear off?

  Yeah, and maybe if he kept telling himself that he’d be voted in as the next president.

  Whatever he decided to do after they met up again, it had to be better than this. Lack of focus could cost him and his party. And he’d worked too damn hard to get this far to throw it away for a woman who probably wouldn’t be interested anyway.

  Not many women were in this for the long haul. Sure, they latched onto him at the start, thinking it would be glamorous to date a politician. Half of them had dreams of being the First Lady; the other half would do anything to social climb. But none of them lasted once they discovered his manic hours and what that meant: minimal attention.

  His longest relationship had lasted six months and that had been three years ago. Peg had visions of the White House; he’d wanted to do the best job he could. They’d parted amicably. No great surprise she was now married to a state governor who was a prime candidate for the presidential running within the next eight years.

  Besides, what could he offer Adele? The occasional fly-in to Vegas for a dirty weekend? No way would a woman like her be satisfied with that. And he wouldn’t expect her to. Adele deserved to be wined and dined. To be cherished and wooed.

  So where the hell did that leave him? Frustrated, grumpy and confused. Three emotions he didn’t tolerate.

  He had to see her. Get this thing for her out of his system. One person would help him in his quest.

  His sister.

  Damn, he’d never hear the end of it.

  Jess smirked as she plopped onto Reid’s sofa. “What’s on your mind?”

  No way could Reid blurt out his real reason for summoning his sister, so he hedged. “Wanted to see how you and Jack are doing.”

  A hoot of laughter erupted from her smug mouth. “Me and Jack. Riiiight…”

  Reid hated feeling this uncertain. He’d always been a guy in control and fishing for information didn’t sit well with him. He hadn’t asked Jess outright for information on Adele because he couldn’t stand her merciless teasing. Looked like she’d cottoned on pretty fast regardless.

  “Someone say my name?” Jack strolled into the lounge room of Reid’s Beverly Hills condo and slapped Reid on the back. “Good to see you, mate.”

  “Hope you’re treating my sis right.” Reid held up a bottle of scotch and Jack nodded. “Though what she sees in a loud-mouthed Aussie chef is a mystery to me.”

  Jack mimicked dicing and slicing. “She likes the way I present my sausage.”

  Reid grimaced as he poured whisky into two glasses. “Can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Hello? Still here, remember?” Jess waved, her expression radiant as she glanced at Jack. “And you, zip it. We’re here to talk about Reid’s love life, not ours.”

  Reid’s hand jerked and sloshed whisky on the sideboard. “Who said anything about love?”

  Jess snorted. “Hmm, let me see. I introduce
you to Adele at the wedding. You disappear. Then I get a desperate call the day after I return to Vegas saying you’ll fly me out here for a chat?”

  Jess rubbed her hands together. “Dead giveaway? We only ever chat on the phone, short snatched calls between your meetings.” She pointed at his shirt. “And it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you with your buttons done up wrong. Must be love.”

  “You talk too much.” Reid glanced at his shirt, noted the last three buttons poking through the wrong holes, and scowled. It was official. He was a mess.

  He handed Jack a glass and raised his in a toast. “Drink your champagne and shut the hell up.”

  “Okay.” She clinked her flute to their glasses. “But if I shut up, you don’t get to hear how Adele’s pining for you.”

  Reid choked on his first slug of whisky while Jess and Jack grinned like a couple of loons.

  After clearing his throat, Reid placed his glass on a table and flung himself into the nearest chair. “All I need is a contact number.”

  Jess raised an eyebrow. “If that’s all you needed, you would’ve already rung her at work.”

  Damn, his sis knew him too well.

  He dragged a hand over his face. “I know she works at Burlesque Bombshell but I don’t want anyone there knowing my business. All it takes is one big-mouth to spread rumors to the press and I’ll be plastered over the media.”

  Jess frowned. “Burlesque Bombshell is a dance venue. What’s the big deal?”

  Jack sat next to Jess and entwined his fingers with hers. “From the outfits I saw lying around there, women still take off their clothes.”

  “It’s a form of art,” Jess said, her frown deepening. “It’s elegant and classy and beautiful.”

  Reid shook his head. “You don’t need to convince me, but voters won’t see it that way.”

  Jess’s eyes widened in horror. “Let me get this straight. You want to see Adele again but because of her workplace you want to keep her your dirty little secret?”

  She squeezed Jack’s hand and released it.

  “Not good, even for an uptight prig like you, bro.” She leaped off the sofa, radiating indignation. “You want her cell number? Well too damn bad.”