Insatiable (3 page)

She stopped on the sidewalk in front of her condo and bit her lip. She should go inside and make sure she was all set for the flight, although she knew she was.

Prepared was her middle name. But glimpsing the beckoning slice of moon through the rustling palm trees, she wavered.

Here? Paradise at her fingertips.

Upstairs? Facing Morgan, her older sister and roommate, and her inevitable interrogation.
Why’d you leave the party so soon? Where’s Shawn? Didn’t he drive
you?

“Easy choice,” she murmured, darting through the trees.

As she ran, she dropped her shoes and twisted her dress up and over her head.

This was their stretch of beach, private, secluded. Even if someone strolled by, the heavy darkness bisected only by a slash of moonlight would conceal her. She debated momentarily at the water‟s edge, then shed her lacy bra and panties before diving beneath the rippling black surface.

The first kiss of the waves was jolting, the second, a caress so warm and silky she shuddered. As a lifelong swimmer and former lifeguard, she knew it wasn‟t safe to go for a dip alone. Things lurked in the ocean, snapping, slithery things, and the undertow could be brutal. But right then, she had no choice but to take her chances in the deep.

She swam furiously, cutting through the gentle swells as easily as an eel.

Again and again she went under, comforted by the water‟s gentle resistance as she tried to outswim the uproar in her mind.

With each stroke, she pushed herself for more. She wanted the burn in her muscles. Needed her arms and legs to shake with exertion. Anything so she didn‟t have to think. At last, she shifted onto her back to let the breeze cool her flushed skin and dry her dripping face.

Since she was a little girl, swimming and music had been her havens.

Whenever she felt stressed or mad—or hell, even happy—she retreated to the ocean or the piano to lose herself in her own world. But tonight she couldn‟t let her worries go, not with her rock-solid foundation crumbling beneath her.

Insatiable

11

Why had Shawn kissed her? Worse, why had she
let
him?

You know exactly why.

Besides the sleek cougar grace he exhibited whether he wore outrageously expensive designer suits or ripped jeans and a T-shirt, he had a smile that rivaled the fireworks on the Fourth of July. His hooded green eyes offered wicked delights his equally naughty lips promised to fulfill, if a woman didn‟t exhaust herself on the fantasy before she‟d sampled the reality.

Not that she fantasized about Shawn. She didn‟t think of him that way. At least she fought mightily hard not to. He was her best girlfriend, except he just happened to be male.

They did everything together. Played video games, watched sunsets, took lazy Sunday drives in his Porsche. Hell, he‟d even watched
Titanic
on cable with her—

four times—and always tossed her tissues when Jack froze to death. And he‟d only laughed at her tears twice.

She‟d taken him shopping, taken him to Astros and Raiders games, even taken him to her high school homecoming dance two years in a row. But she‟d never taken him to bed. Except one time when they‟d been teenagers, she‟d rarely allowed her mind to go there. Until tonight.

Now that it had, it didn‟t seem to want to go anywhere else.

In a blink, she was back in his bathroom all those years ago. She‟d wandered in to ask him a question, nothing important, just everyday stuff. But sometime when she hadn‟t been looking, Shawn had matured into a boy on the verge of manhood. He‟d known it, even if she hadn‟t.

He‟d leaned out, his bronze shoulders gleaming with water, to shoo her away before closing the shower door. But she hadn‟t left.

His hair had been longer in those days, wavy and as bright as sunlight. Over the years, the blond had darkened to a rich gold he now wore clipped short in a style that hung low in front to flirt with his eyes. But back then, his hair had brushed his shoulder blades every time he took the water full in the face.

She had never glimpsed a man‟s body before that day. At fifteen she‟d never gone beyond the one hasty, fumbling closet clutch she‟d shared with Shawn two years before at Tony Felder‟s house. But as she‟d examined his nebulous form silhouetted behind the glass—the corded line of his arms, the flex of his muscular legs, and especially the swell of his grade-A ass—her mouth had gone dry.

And another part of her had gone wet.

Rachel ducked her head under the water and held it there until her lungs quaked with the need to breathe. She emerged with a gasp, her head light from the extended oxygen deprivation. But the images remained.

Her best friend. He‟d never let her down, not once. Every time she‟d gotten dumped, or worse, he‟d been by her side in an instant, no matter what time of day or what he was doing. She‟d always joked he‟d be her man of honor at her someday, far-off wedding. He‟d merely smiled without making the same offer in return.

12

Cari Quinn

She pressed her water-shriveled fingertips to her lips. Did he have feelings for her? Actual man-for-a-woman feelings? Could it be possible?

As quickly as the thought arose, she pushed it back down. Nope. No way.

Shawn had had his chance with her a year after the shower incident. She‟d been overcome by curiosity about sex, which had led to her suggestion they do some exploring of their own—and to Shawn‟s revelation that he already
had
explored, thank you very much, and that she was a kid who needed to keep her mind on her classes where it belonged.

It wasn‟t that she‟d assumed he hadn‟t had sex. At that point he‟d been seventeen, so she‟d known he‟d likely had a lover or two. Maybe more. But she hadn‟t expected him to be so opposed to doing what seemed natural to her. They were best friends. Why not enjoy sex together too? But he‟d acted as if she‟d suggested he streak naked through town.

She scowled at the star-sprinkled deep blue sky. As annoyed and embarrassed as she‟d felt back then, she‟d been puzzled too. Surely she hadn‟t misread every one of his signs? The times his hand lingered too long on her back, or their bodies brushed, and he leaped back as if he‟d gotten burned on the stove…

After that spectacularly embarrassing day, she‟d worked hard to banish all impure thoughts about him. Later that year, she‟d met Ryan. He definitely hadn‟t seen her as a kid. No, he‟d been more than happy to help her blossom into a sexually active, hormonally obsessed woman.

Until he left town, anyway, two days before she discovered she was pregnant.

She let out a sigh. Maybe her best friend was right. What good could come of reopening that chapter of her life? Shawn had never known Ryan had asked her to come to New York with him, but what difference did it make? She‟d chosen not to go.

Rachel dragged herself from the water and padded across the cool sand to gather up her clothes. She knew going after Ryan might not gain her anything but more heartache, but she couldn‟t ignore the restlessness—or the what-ifs—inside her any longer.

She needed to make a move, to take a chance. To just say what the hell and go for it. There was more to her than being the youngest daughter of Lee and Alexis Cooper, the most wealthy and powerful couple in Calvin Bay. More than being a music teacher to a bunch of middle-schoolers. More, even, than being Shawn Griffin‟s tiresomely dependable best pal.

And it was time she found out just what.

* * *

He‟d finally taken a stand, so why did he feel so crappy?

Shawn snapped a pencil in half and pitched it over the top of his drafting table. “Maybe because she kept her lips closed? Huh?” He shoved to his feet and strode across the room to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Insatiable

13

He‟d come into his office early, with every intention of adding the final details to his sketches for the renovation of Cooper, Inc.‟s downtown headquarters. Since he hadn‟t slept, he figured he‟d make the most of the hours that remained of the waning night.

But alone in his cavernous office, surrounded by the windows that reflected the twinkling lights of the city, he‟d been unable to focus. Or forget.

For an instant, her lips had been against his. Her fingers had jerked in his hold, and he‟d taken in her exhaled breath as if it were his own. But even as his body had ached for her, twisting with a yearning more fierce than anything he‟d ever known, she‟d fought him off. She‟d pushed him away.

Yeah, there‟d be no forgetting
that.

Before, he‟d allowed himself to assume that maybe she hadn‟t turned her thoughts in his direction for the same reason he‟d rebuffed her advances when they were kids. A friendship like theirs didn‟t come along often enough to risk adding sex to the mix.

Or so he‟d told himself until he‟d watched her get hurt by every Jean-Pierre, Dominick, and Connor who came along. Not that she ever admitted anyone hurt her. She‟d become adept at pretending to be as casual a serial dater as any man, except when it came to Halston.

Ryan had been her first love. Her first lover. Not him, and he had only himself to blame.

Turning away from the sunlight trickling through the deep blue sky, Shawn pried his cell phone out of his pocket. It was just past five, but he knew she‟d be up.

She rose habitually at four-thirty and never hesitated to wake him if she needed him.

The time had come to repay the favor.

He drummed his fingers on his wide cherry desk as he waited, his gaze drifting to the photo collage under his glass blotter. Among the requisite shots of his parents and grandparents were two of Rachel. She‟d mentioned them the last time she stopped by for lunch, wondering why he didn‟t save the space for someone who really mattered.

As if anyone mattered more.

Her phone rang six times before it went to voice mail. He left a clipped message. Dammit, had she screened his call?

But it didn‟t stop him from immediately dialing the apartment she shared with Morgan or from launching into a barrage of questions as Morgan slurred out a hello.

“Jesus, Griffin, you live in her pocket. You should know where she is.”

“I don‟t.” Something in her voice put him on edge. “But obviously you do.”

“Aw, did the lovebirds have a fight?”

“Morgan.” At her breezy laughter, his shoulders tensed even more. “Where‟s Rachel?”

14

Cari Quinn

“On her way out of Cali as we speak. Which you should know.”

He dropped into his high-backed leather chair, swiveling until he faced the blue pencil sketches he‟d tacked up on the wall. They were his preliminary ideas for a new project, a high-rise office complex to be erected on the prime site Griffin Industries had purchased in Encino a few months ago.

Shawn pressed his thumb and forefinger to his nose, pinching to relieve the sudden pressure. He‟d agreed to submit them to his father by nine today, and his father didn‟t push back deadlines unless the reason involved arterial blood.

Thanks for the advance notice, Rach.

Morgan‟s curiosity finally overtook her need to taunt. “Didn‟t she tell you she was going to the city?”

“She told me.” He rose, again moving to the windows. “What time is the plane supposed to land in New York?” he asked, already returning to his desk.

“Early afternoon, I think. There‟s a layover in Chicago.”

Shawn flipped pages in his day planner. He had two staff meetings scheduled, another with dear ol‟ Dad. “Thanks, Morgan.” His thumb was about to hit the End button when her voice stopped him.

“Shawn, wait. Don‟t you think it‟s a mistake, her going to see Ryan?”

He withdrew his wallet, and after a quick check of the contents, decided a trip to the ATM was in order before he headed to LAX. “I‟m going to ensure it‟s not.

Don‟t worry.”

“She can handle herself, I know that. But—” Her short pause told him his statement had just registered. “How?”

“She‟s getting herself a chaperone.” With a grim smile, he crossed to the door.

“Whether she wants one or not.”

“Shawn—”

“I‟ll talk to you later, Mor.” He ended the call before she could object.

He had a plane to catch.

* * *

Rachel hadn‟t been to New York in years, not since her parents had taken her and Morgan to see the Christmas spectacular at Rockefeller Center. She‟d been nine, Morgan eleven. The trip had dazzled her enough she‟d almost been afraid to return, as if the mental photographs she‟d snapped would be tarnished if the city didn‟t arouse the same reaction in her now.

Which was one of the same reasons she‟d been reluctant to accept Ryan‟s invitation. One of many, actually.

Rachel sighed as she paged through a magazine containing a glossy ad for his new novel,
Unmasked
. She‟d been nearly seventeen when she‟d fallen for him, and her memories were sharp and vivid, frozen pictures untouched by time. It took Insatiable

15

courage to risk disturbing those images, especially since that had been the happiest period of her life.

Despite that, she‟d willingly said no to coming to New York with him a decade ago. Even when she‟d discovered she was carrying his child, she hadn‟t picked up the phone. She‟d turned to Shawn. As always.

He‟d been shocked when she told him she was pregnant, but he hadn‟t lectured her. Much. He‟d even concocted a scheme to act as if the kid was his, though she‟d lost the baby before he‟d had to go through with it. Even all these years later, she couldn‟t believe how far he‟d been willing to go to save her ass.