unannounced and demand anything. If you have something to discuss, schedule an appointment. Unless it is regarding the accident. In that case, don’t bother. That matter will be settled in court. Do you understand?”
He felt her body shaking. Judging from the hardened nipples now pressed against her shirt, this wasn’t a reaction to what he’d said. It was because of a synergy—stimulating, powerful, undeniable—existing between them. He felt it, too. She leaned forward, her lips so close he felt her breath. His groin stirred. Her mouth opened.
“Let. Me. Go.”
Their eyes locked. The room faded away. Time stopped, too. She blinked. He followed the movement of her long lashes. The urge to know if her lips tasted as sweet as they looked was overwhelming. Time to make a move.
Two quick taps on the door and it swung open. “Hey, Ike...whoa!” The tableau before him stopped Terrell in his tracks. “Sorry, brother. I didn’t know—”
“Your timing is perfect,” Ike interrupted, wanting to hug his brother and throttle him, too. The sound of the door opening had snapped Ike out of the Quinn-induced haze that had him about to act totally out of character. Regaining his composure, he walked behind his desk and began shuffling papers. “Ms. Taylor was just on her way out.”
Terrell turned to her with hand outstretched. “Hello, Ms. Taylor. I’m Terrell Drake.”
“I’m out of here.” She brushed past him and out of Ike’s office.
Terrell’s expression was one of amusement as he watched her leave. Still smiling, he turned back to his brother.
“Don’t.” Ike reached for his charging cell phone that he’d almost forgotten.
“What, bro?” Terrell innocently replied. “I didn’t even say anything.”
Ike pocketed the phone, placed the charger in his briefcase and snapped it shut. “Let’s keep it that way. Unless it’s about the deal.”
No doubt the upcoming meeting was important. The Drakes had handled their share of large purchases, but the office building strategically situated in San Francisco’s business district would be one of their biggest ones yet.
“That’s why I came by, to make sure there were no loose ends regarding the presentation.”
Ike gave him a look. “You know better than that.”
“I thought so. Until I walked in as you were about to get your groove on in the middle of the day.” Ike walked by him and toward the door. Terrell fell into step behind him. “Wait. Ms. Taylor as in Quinn Taylor, the girl who hit you?”
“Focus, Terrell. Your mind should be on numbers and tenant projections. Not her.”
“Oh, like yours was a minute ago?”
Ike ignored Terrell as they reached their father’s corner office. Ike Drake Sr. was just coming out of his private restroom, looking the part of a dynasty head in a navy blue suit, tailored to obscure his expanding stomach, stark white shirt and a red-white-and-blue tie. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut and lined, his face clean-shaven save for a thin mustache. At not quite six feet, it wasn’t his stature that made his presence so commanding, but the steely confidence that oozed from his pores. It’s what made him such a stellar negotiator and businessman, and why they were on their way to sealing one of their most lucrative deals yet.
“About time you two got here,” he barked gruffly.
“Sorry about that, Dad,” Ike Jr. offered. “Had to handle some unexpected business.”
“He was handling it, all right,” Terrell murmured, halted from commenting further by his brother’s warning stare.
“I understand, son,” Ike Sr. drawled as he reached for his personal items on the desk and walked toward them. “The meeting we’re heading to involves a negotiation for only a hundred million or so. No big deal.”
Ike Sr.’s offhand comment lightened the mood. The men chatted casually as a town car transported them to the private airstrip where they boarded a company plane for San Francisco. Once aboard, Ike Sr. and Terrell pulled out their computers. Ike stared out the window, his mind on Quinn and what happened at the office. She was a study in contrasts. Exasperating yet intriguing. Bothersome but beguiling. With a slight shake of his head, he forced himself back into the present. Earlier he’d told Terrell to focus. Right now he needed to follow that same advice.
Quinn entered the cool confines of Acquired Taste, one of only a handful of restaurants in the town of Paradise Cove, now boasting close to five thousand residents. It was lunchtime. The room was crowded. Peyton had arrived earlier to secure a table. Quinn spotted her and headed over.
“Hey.” Quinn plopped into the empty booth seat.
Peyton stopped texting and looked up. “Whoa. Somebody’s not happy.” She set her phone on the table. “Looks like the negotiation didn’t go so well.”
“Not at all.”
“What happened?”
“I was involved in an accident. Of all the cars in this town, I had to hit an antique owned by an asshole. The guy’s impossible.”
“More impossible than you?” Quinn cut her eyes at Peyton. “Don’t act like that’s an exaggeration. I love hanging around you. But for the average person...you’re hard-core.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You’re welcome.” They paused and ordered drinks from the waitress. “Who was the lucky guy you met by accident?” Air quotes emphasized the last two words. “Pun intended.”
Quinn gave her a look. Peyton laughed. Quinn obviously saw nothing funny. Peyton lost her smile. “I’m sorry. Bad timing.”
“Bad joke, too.”
“Whose car did you hit?”
“Whose car did I collide with while swerving to save an animal’s life? Ike Drake. He’s also the man who’s decided to personally sue me because of it.”
“That’s crazy.”
“It’s to ensure that his car gets fixed.”
Peyton made a face. “Um, that’s why we have insurance.”
“Like I said, his is some kind of rare antique. Repairs will be expensive.”
Peyton shrugged. “You’ve got the cash.”
“I’m not worried about that. But they’re threatening to take my driver’s license. Trent’s coming to visit next week. That won’t work at all.”
Peyton reached for the menu and began to scan it. “You mean I finally get to meet your bestie? Cool!”
“Not so cool with what’s going on.”
“You’ll
