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She nodded, still looking down. A flush rose up her chest, reminding him of the delicate pink of her nipples. His heart shuddered again in reaction, so full of anticipation that it hurt. How strange this was. So new and so comfortable and so nerve-racking all at the same time. The feelings tangled around each other, coiling and stretching through him, expanding the feel of his body, if not the actual dimensions.
The pleasantries he needed to exchange became suddenly less important. He glanced around…
“You go on,” Lori urged him. “I’m fine.”
He searched the faces around him, evaluating each person’s status in the world of Aspen development. He should probably say hello to old Mr. Whitson. Then again, the ancient dandy caught Quinn’s eye, raised his brows in Lori’s direction and winked. He clearly had his priorities straight. Pretty women first, business later. A lesson Quinn would do well to learn.
“Or—” he turned his eyes back to Lori “—we could go now.”
Her dark curls bounced when she shook her head. “Oh, no. Really. This is business. We’ll leave when you’re done.”
Opening his mouth to disagree, he paused when he saw the way her eyes darted over the crowd. Maybe she needed a little more time to ease into the next few hours. She certainly looked nervous. “All right.”
“You go. I’m terrified of small talk, so I’ll join you after another drink. Is that okay?”
“That’s okay. But steer clear of Peter Anton. He’s looking particularly handsy and I’d hate to have to punch him out.”
“Deal.”
Quinn was halfway across the room and still smiling when he heard someone call Lori’s name. A very male, very loud someone. Abandoning his path toward Mr. Whitson, Quinn spun on his heel. Just out of curiosity.
“Lori Love!” the deeply accented baritone repeated.
He watched Lori’s face go comically blank before she looked toward the bar. Quinn looked, too.
A slim man with wavy black hair sauntered across the room, dark eyes locked on Lori. He was clearly pleased to see her, if the wide and self-satisfied smile was any indication. But how the hell could a French playboy like Jean-Paul D’Ozeville even have met a girl from Tumble Creek?
Locked in the riddle, he watched Jean-Paul wink at Lori—wink?—and then open his arms wide. What thehell?
Quinn’s feet were moving even before the man’s arms closed around Lori.
“Jean-Paul!” Lori said, surprised but not shocked. She was starting to smile when her eyes caught Quinn approaching. Then the shock appeared. “Oh,” she breathed, but Jean-Paul’s smooth voice overrode hers.
“You never call me anymore,petite.”
Quinn’s feet froze.
“Ah…” Her gaze stayed locked with Quinn’s. “Well…”
“You should have come to Greece,” Jean-Paul chided. “The sea was magnificent, but not nearly as beautiful as you are tonight.”
“Thank you,” she stammered. “But…”
The man finally realized Lori wasn’t looking at him and eased her away to glance over his shoulder. “Oh, Quinn! How are you, my friend?” One of his hands stayed around Lori, and he actually turned her toward Quinn as if they were a couple.
What the…? The ambient conversation buzzed around Quinn’s ears like a swarm of flies. He wanted to swat it away.
Lucky for his nerves, Lori sidled over until Jean-Paul’s hand slid away. “Um, you two know each other?” she asked.
“Of course,” Jean-Paul answered cheerily. “Quinn is building a house for me! He is the best architect in town, and you know I will have only the best.”
“Yeah.” She stepped farther away from Jean-Paul, closer to Quinn, and his possessiveness eased a little. But not his tension. He took her hand and looked at his client.
“Ah, you are here together?” Jean-Paul chuckled. “Well, Quinn, I did not mean to make your face so cloudy.” He winked at Lori again, the bastard. “There is no reason to build me an ugly house. Ms. Love and I were friends for only a few short weeks before she flitted on to her next conquest. You are a lucky man.”
“Oh, come on,” Lori muttered under her breath.
Quinn looked from her to Jean-Paul in growing confusion. Confusion, because this made no sense. No sense at all. Lori didn’t date guys like this. She’d made that clear. Hadn’t she?
