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He glanced up and his mouth softened. “Another truce?”
“Yeah, what is it with you? You’re very argumentative.”
“Not with anyone else,” he muttered, but the tension was melting away.
“Must be all the sizzling passion between us, hmm?”
This time he smiled, and his grin stretched wide and wicked. “That might be it. Here.” Quinn offered her a taste of one of the little appetizers. He explained each plate, and she coaxed stories of Spain from him until the paella arrived. Then she was too busy devouring the delicious stew to talk. The sweet wine was the perfect antidote to the spice, and she soon found herself finishing her second glass with a mournful sigh.
“Did you like it?” Quinn asked.
“The wine?”
He glanced around with a slightly embarrassed air. “The trip to Spain.”
“I loved it,” she answered with complete honesty. It really did feel like a foreign country. The waiters argued softly about something in Spanish. The simple, sensual music stroked down her body as dusk fell, tingeing the air midnight-blue. Tiny white lights were wound through the potted trees and flowering vines, and each time a breeze touched them, they sparkled like stars. “It’s perfect.”
Quinn stood, surprising her. “Come on.”
“But you haven’t paid, have you?” She glanced around instead of taking the hand he held out, but Quinn just reached down to tug her up. That was when Lori noticed the two couples swaying on the wooden floor. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes. What would a romantic trip to Europe be without dancing?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t dance!” But she was on her feet and being pulled toward the middle of the patio.
“It’s nothing but swaying. Actually, all you have to do is hold on. I’ll move you.”
Well, that sounded sort of sexy. Lori stopped dragging her feet and followed.
His fingers wrapped more thoroughly around hers as he brought her around to face him. “That’s better,” he murmured, settling one big hand on her waist as he pulled her flush with his long body. “Much better.”
The music was louder here, slow and lovely as sex, and Quinn began to move with the promising rhythm. Lori did as he’d suggested and just held on, and it turned out he was right. Dancing was kind of nice. He was a good dancer—or a good swayer anyway—and Lori relaxed enough to rest her cheek against his chest.
He smelled good, the natural scent of his skin like pure sex to her now. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, thinking of him naked and stretched above her. The touch of his lips against her forehead sent a shiver of lust down her spine. His fingers spread wider, splaying over her hip.
“Tonight,” he whispered near her ear. “Again.”
Yes. Yes,again.Just like the night before. Only…
Lori clenched her eyes shut. She couldn’t possibly ask him.
“Please,” he murmured, and Lori’s body smoldered.
This was supposed to be her fantasy. If she couldn’t ask for what she wanted with Quinn, right here, right now, she’d miss her chance to live a dream. Lori held her breath, gathered up her courage and whispered into his shirt.
Quinn shook his head. “What?”
Lori swallowed and raised her face toward his while Quinn kept swaying, his hips pressed to hers. “Would you, um, speak Spanish? You know, to me?”
Despite being distracted by the rush of blood in her ears, Lori noticed the way his muscles stiffened beneath her hands.Oh, God.Then he smiled. “Speak Spanish, hmm?”
She pressed her face back to his shirt and didn’t answer.
“Yes, I’ll speak Spanish to you,mi querida.Do you want to call me Quinto? Or would you prefer not to know my name?”
“Shut up,” she said as clearly as she could with her face buried in cotton.
“But if I shut up, how will I speak the dirty Spanish words to you,mi pequeña gatita?”
