Tempt Me at Midnight. Maureen SmithЧитать онлайн книгу.
make him squirm, as she’d done that night many years ago, Lexi took her sweet time before lifting her hand to the wall and knocking once. And then she grinned, imagining the relieved expression on Quentin’s face. She never could stay mad at him for very long.
An hour later she emerged from her room, freshly showered and dressed in a cream cashmere sweater and designer jeans. Determined to prove that nothing had changed between her and Quentin, she decided to stop by his room so they could head down to breakfast together.
Before she’d taken two steps his door swung open and out strutted the tall, gorgeous waif from last night’s ball. The skimpy dress she wore ended just beneath the curve of her butt and showed off miles of long, slender legs. Her black hair was tousled, as if she’d just risen from Quentin’s bed—which she undoubtedly had.
Lexi froze in her tracks, watching as the woman smiled coquettishly and waved at Quentin, who was framed in the doorway, his chest and feet bare. A smile played at the edges of his mouth as he watched her sashay down the hall. When she’d disappeared around the corner, he shook his head in amusement and closed the door.
Inwardly relieved that he hadn’t seen her standing there, Lexi ditched the idea of waiting for him and headed downstairs alone.
Just as she’d expected, Quentin had already forgotten about kissing her and was back to his womanizing ways. So all was right with the world again. Which was exactly what she’d wanted. Right?
Of course, Lexi thought, annoyed that she was even second-guessing herself. The best thing she could do was pretend that the kiss had never happened. The sooner she put it out of her mind, the better off she’d be.
Easier said than done.
Resolutely ignoring her conscience, Lexi focused on her surroundings. The interior of Asha’s château was every bit as impressive as the exterior. As Lexi made her way downstairs, she couldn’t help feeling as though she’d been transported back in time to the opulent days of the French royalty. Each room she passed was large and luxuriously appointed with beautiful antique furniture, rich fabrics, soaring fireplaces, original period paintings and priceless tapestries.
The grand marble staircase descended to a cavernous foyer that was lit by a massive crystal chandelier. Lexi followed the sound of laughing voices to a pair of French doors that opened onto an enormous breakfast room. A fire crackled invitingly in the hearth, and bright winter sunlight poured through a row of windows that overlooked the immaculately landscaped grounds of the estate.
Everyone was already gathered around the long mahogany table. At opposite ends were Asha and Sterling Wolf, former adversaries who’d shocked their children last year when they announced that they were getting married. They were as different as night and day, yet no one could dispute that they absolutely belonged together.
As did the other two couples seated at the table. Reese had her head resting on Michael’s shoulder as he gently rubbed her swollen stomach, while his younger brother Marcus couldn’t stop smiling at his gorgeous wife, Samara, who sat across from him.
As Lexi entered the sunny room, she was met by a chorus of warm greetings.
“Good morning, everyone.” Smiling, she bent and planted an affectionate kiss on Sterling Wolf’s clean-shaven dark cheek. He’d always been more like a father to her than the worthless man who’d abandoned her when she was a child. Which was why Sterling had insisted that she call him Dad, and she’d asked him to give her away at her wedding four years ago. In light of the way her disastrous marriage had ended, having Sterling walk her down the aisle was the only good decision she’d made that day.
“Where’s your partner in crime?” he asked her.
“Still in his room.” Lexi slid into the empty chair beside Reese, who gave her a disappointed look. “What?”
“We were counting on you to bring Quentin downstairs,” Reese said. “You know he’s always late to everything, and the baby and I are starving.”
Lexi was mildly alarmed. “You mean you haven’t eaten anything yet? It’s almost ten o’clock!”
“I had a light snack,” Reese admitted with a sheepish grin. “But that’s not the point. Whenever we all go out to dinner, you always make sure Quentin gets there on time. That’s, like, your designated role.”
Lexi shrugged, draping a linen napkin across her lap. “I didn’t want to disturb him. He, uh, had a late night.”
“Actually,” Asha interjected drolly from the other end of the table, “he left the ball half an hour after you did.”
Lexi glanced up in surprise. “He did?”
“Oui.” Asha held her gaze. “Alone.”
Lexi flushed. “Oh,” was all she could say.
So maybe the sexy supermodel hadn’t spent the night with Quentin. That didn’t mean he hadn’t slept with her. Maybe she’d sneaked into his room for a quickie early that morning. And maybe she’d been sound asleep, or in the bathroom, when Quentin sent his coded message to Lexi.
Asha was studying her, a calculating gleam in her dark eyes that made Lexi want to squirm. She remembered Samara once telling her about Asha’s uncanny ability to ferret out people’s darkest secrets without them uttering a word. Unless Asha had witnessed what transpired on the terrace last night, there was no way she could know that Quentin had kissed Lexi.
Or could she? Lexi wondered uneasily. Was the truth written all over her face?
As she stared at Asha, the other woman’s full lips curved in a quiet, intuitive smile. “I’m hoping you’ll take my New Year’s toast to heart, Alexis,” she murmured.
Lexi eyed her warily. “What do you mean?”
“With all due respect, chère, my words weren’t intended for those of us who are already having plenty of hot, mind-blowing sex.”
Scandalized, Samara gasped. “Mom!”
Michael and Marcus groaned at the thought of their sixty-something father having sex, let alone steamy sex. But how could he not when he was married to Asha—a tall, voluptuous, stunningly beautiful woman who oozed more sex appeal than most women half her age?
As Sterling chuckled sheepishly, Samara muttered in exasperation, “When other moms make toasts, they wish people health, happiness and prosperity. But not my mother. My mother tells a roomful of her guests to get laid.”
Asha smiled unrepentantly. “Oh, relax, darling. At least you didn’t have to cover any small ears this time.”
“Where are the twins?” Lexi asked, as much to change the subject as out of curiosity. If her face got any hotter, her head would combust.
“The boys already ate.” Samara chuckled wryly. “They were up at an ungodly hour this morning, pestering me and Marcus to take them exploring around the property. Mom’s gardener was kind enough to do the honors.”
Lexi grinned. “Given how huge this place is, you won’t see your offspring for a while.”
The two parents shared a conspiratorial look. “We know.”
Laughter went around the table.
“Don’t start the party without me,” came an amused drawl from the doorway.
Everyone turned as Quentin sauntered into the room with his lazy, rolling swagger. He was dressed in dark jeans that hung low on his hips and a hunter-green turtleneck that molded his wide shoulders and broad, muscular torso. As Lexi stared at him, she remembered the strength of his arms wrapped around her, the hardness of his chest pressed against hers. They’d hugged countless times before, but last night was the first time she’d ever wanted to cling to him, to rub her aching breasts against his body. She wondered if she’d ever be able to look at him again without reliving those heady, forbidden moments in his embrace.
As he approached the table, Michael wagged his head at