Page 71 of A Real Good Bad Thing

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said with a wink.

Then she parked herself on my lap and threw her arms around me.

Whoa. That was a surprise. She’d never struck me as a sit-in-my-lap kind of woman.

“Good to see you too,” I said with a chuckle.

She clasped my face in her hands and purred. “I missed you this morning.” Her voice became a feathery whisper in my ear. “I can’t wait to have you again.”

Oh, Lord.

The woman did not play fair.

My dick shot straight up, and I was grateful she was on my lap, covering my hard-on. Even more grateful that she claimed my mouth in a heady kiss. Her taste was so damn sweet. I swallowed a groan of pleasure that could have been grounds to lock me up for indecency.

We had work to do.

But I’d have to be a fool to turn down a kiss like this.

My brain went hazy as I kissed her deeper. All thoughts of work, and tutors, and summer school, and responsibility surrendered in the caress of her lips. She kissed like a dream, and I could get lost in the spell of this sweet, feisty, fiery woman.

I did, for a minute or two, her hot kisses blurring out the world.

But a clock ticked loudly in the back of my mind. As much as it pained me, I broke off the kiss.

“One,” I said, holding up a finger, “that was epic. Two, I want more. Three, I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”

“I’ve been thinking of you too.” She ran her fingers along the front of my shirt and smiled, a grin that spread over her face and up to her eyes. She was happy. Wildly happy, and it was infectious.

“You’re festive today.”

She shrugged coyly, brushing a finger along my jaw. “I guess good sex has that effect,” she said, pursing her lips playfully.

“Justgoodsex?” I asked, matching her playful tone.

“Great sex,” she corrected, then nibbled on the corner of her lips.

If we were playing a game, she’d won. I let out a shuddering breath. “Agreed. But I work better when I can think of things other than fucking you.”

I lifted her off my lap and set her on her feet. Then I stood—carefully—tucked the guidebook in my pocket, and we left the busy café, turning to a side street, away from the crowds. We ducked down a quiet block along the beach, leaving the bustle even farther behind.

“Ready to place the order?” I asked.

All-business, no-flirt now, Ruby took her phone from her bag, blocked her number, and made the phone call we’d planned early this morning.

We needed to get inside Willow’s gallery to look around. Nighttime, while the gallery was closed and empty, would have been preferable, but there was too much security in the evenings in this section of town, with its stores, restaurants, and high-end hotels nearby. So, we’d have to find a way into Willow’s office during the day.

As Ruby made the call, I crossed my fingers, hoping all the pieces fell into place. Then I’d give her the jar of honey I’d snagged from room service just for her this morning. Fine, technically I’dliftedit. But really, that was what room service condiments were for—snagging for later. It was a little gift, but I still hoped she’d like the gesture, hoped it said I knew her. I hoped, too, that I could spend more time with her beyond this island tryst.

For now, I watched her order ourdistractionfrom a local place we’d found called Clementine’s Catering.

“This is Lynx O’Malley’s personal assistant,” Ruby said in a thoroughly professional voice that was, admittedly, sexy as sin. “I’m calling to confirm the lunch we ordered will be delivered to Willow’s Island Gallery.” She pushed her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose. “In twenty minutes? Yes, that will be fine.”

Damned nice of Willow’s favorite artist to order in lunch, especially while he was unreachable at a meditation retreat.

The lunch decoy idea had been Ruby’s during our strategy session that morning. Her resourcefulness turned me on. She liked that I wasrugged, her words, and I liked that she was clever. We were becoming a damn good team.

Scary thought.