As soon as we arrived, the gardener, or a man who could have been the pool boy, since he held a long rod with a net attached, met us at bottom of the steps up to his house.

“You want me to help with those bags, Mr. Jensen?” he asked, nodding to the luggage Quinn had hauled out of the trunk of the car.

“Nah, it’s fine, Steve,” Quinn said, and the guy’s eyes slid over to me. He looked like he was eyeing up a feast, and I felt a flush rise up my cheeks. It wasn’t difficult to tell what he was imagining. He probably thought Quinn planned to sequester me in his house for a week of…

I looked away, but the truth was I wanted him to think I was with Quinn. Quinn was a delicious hunk: everything a girl could ask for. Tall, dark, broad shoulders, dreamy green eyes, a sensuous smile. And muscles and tattoos to die for. I still remembered the bed of roses and leaves covering his back and the snake rising up his spine. It’s mouth open and dangerously fanged.

How long had I been crushing on Quinn for?

As long as I could remember. I think I even told Dad when I was seven that I wanted to marry him when I grew up. Dad laughed and thought it was really cute, but I didn’t think it was funny at all. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t be my husband.

But it had been a long time since I saw Quinn. I was thirteen, and I had such a massive crush on him I couldn’t even answer him when he spoke to me. What an idiot. For years after, I cringed whenever I remembered what a dork I had been that day.

Well, he was still as tall, dark, and handsome as ever, though he had a few specks of grey in his hair these days. I wondered if he had a girlfriend, maybe even someone serious. But then, he wouldn’t be looking at me in a way that made my blood heat up.

A gust of wind blew hair into my face and I reached up to sweep it back. The action made my top ride up a couple of inches, and Quinn’s gaze flew to the exposed skin. Wishing I had gone for some tanning sessions before I came over, I quickly yanked my crop shirt down to cover my white stomach, and Quinn turned his head away.

We walked up the steps in silence. When we stood outside a sleek polished wood door, Quinn grabbed a set of keys from his pocket and pushed one into the lock. He pulled the door back for me to enter first. A gentleman. Just my kind of man. I went in and glanced around the place with my eyebrows raised.

Damn, his place was fancy as hell.

Quinn dropped my suitcase on the floor and went past me toward his liquor cabinet. I watched him pour himself a generous measure of whiskey. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up, showing off his strong arms, as he downed his drink in one go. As if he really needed it. His eyes swept briefly up and down my body. I straightened and met his gaze confidently.

After a long, heated pause that seemed to hang in the air between us he finally spoke, “So, how have you been?”

“Good,” I said casually. “I’ve just finished my A-Levels.”

“Jesus, that’s crazy.” He shook his head.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a shrug. “I can’t really believe it myself, to be honest.”

“Going to college?” He ran his hand through his hair as he spoke. Ruffling it and making it look all sexy and divine.

“Mom wants me to, and Dad has said he’ll find me a place over here, but I haven’t decided.”

“Would you like to come back here?” He looked surprised.

“Maybe.” I cocked my head. “I want to study to be a translator.”

“What languages?”

“Italian and Spanish.”

“I see,” he said, before pouring himself another generous measure of alcohol.

“Mind if I get one too?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed. “Are you old enough?”

“Of course,” I said airily, and dropped my bag on the floor next to me.

He looked at me with raised, disbelieving eyebrows.

I crossed my arms. “The legal age for drinking is eighteen in England. In fact, you’re even allowed to drink beer and wine in public places at sixteen and seventeen if it’s bought by an adult and consumed with a meal.”

He nodded. “What would you like?’

“Mmmm…I don’t know yet.”

Quinn gestured over to the liquor cabinet. “Be my guest.”

“Awesome. Thanks.” I made my way across the room, grabbed myself a glass, and filled it with the same Scotch he was drinking. Meeting his eyes over the rim of the glass seductively, I took a long sip. To my horror the liquid burned my throat and threw me into a fit of coughing.

“Are you all right?” Quinn asked, a frown on his face.

Totally embarrassed, I banged my chest a few times. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just went down the wrong way,” I choked out.

“Okay,” he said, but his lips twitched.

“So, where’s good to eat around here?” I asked, desperately trying to erase the juvenile incident.

“There’s a Thai place a few miles away.” Quinn jerked his head in the direction of the street below. “I’ll give you the address tomorrow.”

I twirled a lock of my hair in my fingers. “Maybe we could go together?”

His eyebrows nearly shot off his face.

I stopped twirling. “I mean, just to catch up.”

“Of course.” He gazed out the enormous windows and looked down at the city spread far in the distance with scowl. “That sounds good. I have to work a bunch but, uh, I’ll try and clear at least one evening.”

“Thanks for having me. I know it’s short notice, but I promise I won’t get in your way. Dad told me you’ll be working a lot and I’ll hardly see you. We’ll be ships in the night.” I grinned.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he muttered, his eyes sliding away from mine. He downed the rest of his drink, and I saw clearly from the expression in his eyes that there was something else going through his mind. Maybe he was distracted with work or something. I had dropped in on him pretty unexpectedly, so I couldn’t expect him to be on full form right off the bat.

I bowed my head and carefully braved another sip of my drink. It was strong and heady, and I could already feel my head starting to swim slightly. I’d been traveling the last twenty-four hours straight and the heat, tiredness and the spirits in my glass swamped me all of a sudden.

I stifled a yawn. I didn’t want to seem rude, but I was so exhausted all I wanted was to crawl into bed to catch up on some of the sleep I’d skipped out on during the trip across. “I should, uh, I should probably get some sleep.”

He nodded.

“Uh, where will I sleep?”

He put his empty glass on the bar counter, and strode over to my suitcase. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

His behavior and the fact that he obviously didn’t want me to be there made me feel a little out of place, as though I was intruding on adult shit. Which was weird because he was only about twenty years older than me.

“Yeah, your bedroom is through there…” he said, jerking his head in the direction of a corridor leading off the open-plan living space. Almost in a daze I watched him hook his powerful hand around the handle of my luggage. He was so gorgeous I could have watched him forever.

“Are you coming?” he asked impatiently, and I followed him quickly, my shoes clacking on the polished wood.

He showed me to an immaculate room as perfect as the rest of the house. I guess he must have a maid in every day, because I couldn’t imagine him making his way around here in a frilly apron with a feather duster. I had to purse my lips together to keep from laughing aloud at the image, and I straightened my face, when he turned back toward me.

He looked at me suspiciously, but I blinked up at him innocently, and I saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath. It was pretty obvious, I was trying his patience.

“This alright?” He gestured around. “I hardly have guests around, but you can probably tell, I’m not a particularly hospitable person.”

“No, it’s all great,” I assured him, and I wasn’t lying. This was way nicer than Mom’s house.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stepped back, moving closer to the doorway, putting space between us. “There’s an ensuite through there, and I’ll leave a spare set of keys on the table when I go out tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” I offered him an exhausted smile, and he returned it. And there it was again! That something between us, which he obviously didn’t want to put a name to, or acknowledge heating up the air between us. Both of us were silent as our eyes devoured each other, and for a second, my heart leapt up into my throat, and I had to swallow hard to make the flutter in my chest disappear. I was dead on my feet, but I hated to let him go.

“You have plans for tonight?” I heard myself asking.

“Yeah, actually, I have a date.” He looked at me with great satisfaction.

“Oh!” Damn. That came out like a squeak. I had sounded way more surprised than I should have. “Um, sorry to have kept you, then. Have a great time.” I made a great show of smiling as if him going out on a date was the best news I had heard all year.

He smiled tightly. “Yeah, I guess I better have a shower and get into my fancy gear.”

“You don’t need fancy gear. You look wonderful as you are.”

His eyes widened. “Well, thanks,” he said warily.

I flushed red. Jesus, there I went stumbling over my tongue again. I could put that one down to the jetlag, and I fully intended to, but before I could open my mouth he flashed me a smile.

“Goodnight,” he said and stepped back, over the threshold. It wasn’t that he had increased the space between us dramatically, but it was symbolic, and enough to break the moment off between us.

“Night,” I replied.

Without another word he turned right and walked away, leaving me in the room all by myself. I shut the door and looked around the enormous room. Great going, Madison. Well done. You really surpassed yourself tonight.

With a sigh of defeat, I flopped down on to the double bed and did my best to put the odd encounter out of my mind. I was probably just imagining things, thanks to the jetlag. Nothing to get hung up about.

I kicked off my shoes and closed my eyes, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.