KiltTease (10 page)

He put both of his hands on her cheeks and kissed her. His laughter interrupted it. “Aye. I’d feel the need to say some sacraments of penance myself.”

“You’re Catholic?”

“Very lapsed.”

She pouted for only a second. “When do you need me again?”

“Tomorrow night. They’re having a joint stag party, which makes it a pointless venture in my opinion. Love has made my brother stupid. I don’t know Victoria’s excuse. She seems smart.”

He sounded disgruntled, and from what he’d said earlier, she guessed it was the love part encouraging his reaction. “Angeline really did a number on you.”

Quinton gave her a look that would have made a meek woman back down. “She can’t be blamed for that.”

That answer made it clear their lie about being a couple wasn’t just for the deals and the press. He had trust issues. Big ones. Control issues too.

He had rules because he liked clear boundaries, so love…yeah. One definitely couldn’t control that. As long as they weren’t real, he’d never have to worry about falling in love, trusting her and losing control.

But she’d seen his face in the picture. Whatever he felt for her wasn’t fake. Something warm settled in her gut.

Before she could speak, he said, “Tomorrow come by early to my house so you can pick something to wear.”

She smiled at him. “You’re going to loan the store again?”

“I haven’t sent anything back.”

The smile fell and she had to grab his shirt because the world was spinning again. “What?”

By now he’d appear amused at her reaction, but this time his brows furrowed. “You only picked two, maybe three, dresses and a couple of shoes.”

“That’s all I needed.”

“But not all you wanted.”

So he’d kept it all for her. She didn’t want to know how much all that must have cost because the money didn’t matter. Not really. He was making a space in his home, his life, for her. She didn’t stay in a person’s life for long, and Kate liked to think she left an impression. People would remember her fondly but go about their day. This was different.

So she wouldn’t be a puddle of mush in his lap, Kate lifted her chin. “Quinton, you seem nice and sweet sometimes, but you so are not. You probably kept the clothes just to have an excuse to get me naked at your house.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Sweet?” he spit out the word.

She swallowed the laugh because, of course, that’s all he had heard. “Just for that, we’re going to the sandwich place around the corner, and I’m paying.” She added before he could argue, “I’m changing into a dress. You can feel me up while I wear it.”

“If I do that, I’m taking you home with me.”

She shivered at his deepened timbre. “That just delays my walk of shame.”

“But you can take Grams out of the bathroom, at least.”

He made her laugh, and she liked him for it. “You think you’re funny, but payback is a bitch.”

Kate hopped off his lap and started with her shirt. Pretending he wasn’t there, she peeled it off, slowly. She unlatched her bra next, and that was when her skin heated. She could practically feel his gaze brushing down her spine, catching onto the sides of her bared breasts. Her nipples tightened.

Not able to help it, she ached. Kate brushed her fingers over her stomach, breasts, and then stretched. Every ache he’d given her the day before spoke up, reminding her where this striptease would eventually end.

She moaned. He remained quiet, an intense stillness behind her. Looking back would end the tease, so she unzipped her pants, making sure to spend a lot of time getting them over her legs—bending over a lot.

Kate played with the straps on her panties, then discarded the thought of taking them off. She could hear his deep, long intake of breath at that decision. Heat slid down her stomach and her pussy. Her breathing had gone choppy, knowing the effect she had on him. Picking one of the three dresses she’d taken from his home, she slipped it over her head.

She didn’t look at him until she put on heels, and when she did, Kate had to lean back on the dresser to keep herself upright. The depth of hunger focused on her made the ache deepen.

When would Kate learn not to play with fire? She pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach, unable to play it cool, not while Quinton’s gaze detailed everything he planned to do later as he took her in from head to toe.

“Are you ready, lass?” The retribution he had in mind had darkened his voice.

She bit her lip to keep in another moan. Trying again to speak, she stammered. “I…I need to fix my makeup.”

He didn’t even offer a smirk, just let what he wanted smolder right there in his eyes. “You’re going home with me and we’ll see who is the better tease.”

Oh. Yeah. She probably shouldn’t have goaded him, but was Kate sick that she couldn’t wait for his form of payback? Maybe, but she went into the bathroom, quickly fixed her eyeliner and whispered to her grams, “This is your fault.”

Of course there wasn’t a reply though Kate knew her grams would have just cackled. She put a hand to the box and said good night.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mick’s ringtone interrupted Quinton’s workout playlist. He set down the barbell and answered, “Baird Enterprises.”

“Am I supposed to start the paperwork on that?”

Exasperated, he just shook his head. His agent never took any of his greetings as a joke. “What do you want?”

“Debra had her attorney draw up the paperwork yesterday. A courier will be there in an hour for your signed copies and a check.”

Shock froze his limbs. “Just that easy?”

“Have you seen the headlines?”

Quinton winced. “I try not to. What site?”

Mick told him. His gut wrenched the moment the picture popped up on the screen. He’d talked Kate into sharing her strawberry cheesecake. It had been his excuse to feed her the fruit and then taste it on her lips. That intimate moment had been captured, and again he looked…smitten.

His heart thumped, remembering the kiss, how he’d felt looking at her—warmth, comfort, need. Things he shouldn’t have been feeling for a woman he’d just met.
Fuck
. Things the world could see. He didn’t mind giving the press what they wanted, but he chose what they saw, what he gave of himself.

And with Kate he couldn’t keep that in mind. The world centered on her, and he forgot that his life was about appearance. The last thing he should do was trust her until she earned it.

He could admit those warring emotions had made him gruff with her the day before. It wasn’t until he saw the hurt in her eyes that he tucked his unease and anger away to take care as he’d promised his brother.

Quinton’s hand clenched around the phone as he continued to stare at his expression in the picture. “And Debra called you after seeing this?”

“Aye.”

He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. This was what he’d wanted. His pretend connection with Kate had opened doors that had been closed previously. Yet, nothing in the way he’d looked at her in that picture was for show. That kiss had led them back to his place, where she still slept in his bed hours later.

The press had caught it all. They’d captured the real him because of Kate.
Fuck. Fuck.

Quinton had what he wanted. Could he send Kate on her way? His hands fisted. No. His ex was still lurking about, and she’d definitely be at the pub tonight for the stag party.

And then, after that? Quinton would have to let Kate move on. “I’ll get the papers to you by the end of the day,” he told his agent.

Movement caught his eye. Kate stood at the door, surveying his personal gym, her lips pursed in curiosity. She’d stolen one of his shirts. It hit below her knees. God, she was short.

“Quinton!” Mick yelled in his ear.

“What?” He frowned, turning his attention to his mobile again.

“She’s there now, isn’t she?”

“I have to go.”

Mick’s silence said more than enough, but the man had to say, “What happened to nothing?”

“It turned into something. Send me the papers.” He hung up first this time. His music blared in his ears again. Quinton pulled out the earplugs.

She meandered toward him, weaving through the bench press and treadmill. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your butler. First, where do you even hire one?”

“I used an agency.” He bent down to pick up the barbell. A flash of pain shot through his shoulder. Switching hands quickly, he straightened, his face likely a grimace of pain.

Concern softened her expression. “What is it?”

“A twinge,” he answered, his teeth gritting together.

She gave him a blank stare at the obvious lie. “Right. So your butler…” Kate changed directions and walked to the cabinet at the back of the room.

He watched her progress in the wall-length mirror in front of him. A red mark marred the right side of the back of her knee. If shooting pains hadn’t started to dig into his muscle, he could have reveled in the possessive emotion rising up from his gut. The mark was his mouth’s doing.

“What about him?” he asked.

She made a face at the contents in the cabinet. “He told me he’s left his family behind to work for you.”

She pulled things from the shelf. He frowned, unable to see what she was getting.

“His family is in England.” He shook his head, backtracking to the important question. “When did you talk to him?”

“I went looking for you this morning.”

He braced the barbell on his thigh and glared at the back of her head. “You talked to him while wearing nothing but my shirt?”

“Stop the growl. He was beet red the whole time. Also, the dress I wore for the brunch was shorter than this shirt.”

He didn’t like that answer any more than the situation. “But you had on a bra.”

“I’ll give you that, and it wasn’t cold.”

He gave up and set down the barbell. “What are you getting at, lass?”

She turned, her hands full with shite stored in the cabinet. His butler had stocked it, which is what he suspected had started this winding conversation that had sparked his temper.

“Well, he sends them half his paycheck to help them. He’s only worked here for five months.” She placed bottles of salve and wraps behind him on the bench. “Definitely not enough time to save for a decent vehicle.”

The tips of his fingers started to go numb on his bad arm. He flexed them. “Just ask. I’m going to be old and gray by the time you get to your point.”

She flashed him a smile. “Your moped is collecting dust in the garage. He could probably use it.”

One of his former teammates had given it to him as a joke. He’d accepted the gift then promptly forgot about it. Scotland was too cold and wet for a fucking moped. He wasn’t surprised she knew about the vehicle. She was nosy, and he’d heard her poking around his bathroom the night before. If she’d had time enough to look for him this morning, the garage and every other room between would have been poked around too.

He could admit to being amused instead of annoyed. “Did he tell you to ask for it?”

“Nope,” she answered so fast, he doubted the sincerity of her reply. Then again, this was Kate.

Probably seeing his dubious reaction, she said, “I’m keen and meddlesome. Lift your arm so I can take off the brace.”

Quinton didn’t move. “He can have the thing. And no, I won’t lift my arm. I’m fine, but
you
come here.”

She ignored him and went for the straps. He hissed, expecting a rough touch, but her hands were gentle. She gave him a knowing look in the mirror. “I had this patient once. He was stubborn for no reason other than the fact he could be.”

“And?” he barked at her.

“His name was Douglass Baird.” Her face gave nothing away. “You might be related to him?”

His mouth twitched. “Are you hoping that if you compare me to a crotchety old bugger, I’ll behave?”

“Yup.” She reached around to unlatch the harness clips.

A hot spurt of need flared inside him despite the economy of her actions. Those delicate hands had stroked him to oblivion last night, and his body remembered every other touch before and between that.

He grunted and lifted his arm as far as it could go to help her. She tsked. “It’s swollen. I’m not a doctor, but I’d suggest you give it a rest for a few days.”

Heat rose up his neck to his face, and he started to rise to end her babying of him. Her fingers pressed into his shoulder. The pain just disappeared. If it didn’t feel so fucking divine, he would have been embarrassed about the long groan of relief that escaped his mouth.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “Inflammation leads to pinched nerves and craggy Scots. You can call me a goddess, but that would just be an understatement.”

He was going to kiss her. But only after she finished working whatever magic on his shoulder. Next something cold was slathered into his skin. He winced but before he could jerk away, she had him wrapped up and smelling medicated.

Kate kissed his cheek after she finished. “Now soak for an hour in a hot bath, and that should alleviate a lot of the discomfort you’ve been having.”

At some point, he’d closed his eyes. Quinton opened them to see her cheeky smile. He reached for her with his good arm and dragged her to him until she sat astride his lap. She parked her arse on top of his cock. Her dark, long lashes shadowed her eyes, but her mouth was parted like she was waiting for the inevitable thank you.

This was the same expression she’d worn before he fed her a strawberry, and just like last night, it drew him forward. He was caught in his desire for her. Everything but a small part of him didn’t want to break free. She felt the same; he could see it plainly. But the chemistry between them was like a lightning rod, and because of it, Quinton kissed Kate like she was his to keep.

Fuck, he balled his hand on the front of the T-shirt’s collar to just hold her against him, to feel his knuckles on her smooth skin. She had on too many clothes for his liking, but they didn’t have time for more than this. No question, he’d lost his head with her.

She moaned soft and long. He couldn’t care.

He let his tongue play with hers. The velvet caress hardened his cock. When she cupped his face, he let her take the lead. She knew how to make his everything strum with need for her with a flick of her tongue, a soft brush of her lips, and a hard nip from her teeth. Kate was perfection. His head refused that truth. No woman could be. But his body believed it to its very core. It ached for her.