Bestselling author Tori Carrington introduces PRIVATE SCANDALS, a new series filled with lust, betrayal … and scandal like you’ve never seen it!

When Troy, Ari and Bryna Metaxas realize their business—and family—is on the brink of ruin, how far will they go to save them?

Find out in …

Private Sessions

(October 2011)

Private Affairs

(November 2011)

Private Parts (December 2011)

About the Author

Multi-award-winning, bestselling authors Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name TORI CARRINGTON. Their more than forty-five titles include numerous Blaze® novels as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the duo and their titles.

Private Parts
Tori Carrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Our PRIVATE SCANDALS series was inspired by Homer’s epic poem, The Iliad; the three stories a modern retelling of age-old conflicts, where love is the ultimate prize … and battles are fought in the bedroom, as well as the boardroom. And nowhere is that truer than in this final book …

In Private Parts, the last thing hot businessman Troy Metaxas wants is a sexy woman custom-made to drive him mad with desire. He’s been so focused on his goal of bringing his hometown of Earnest, Washington, back from the brink of ruin that his personal life has gone long neglected. Kendall is Troy’s match in every way, fueling his appetite for her lush body with every kiss. The problem is, the more time he spends in bed with her, the less focused he is on business. Especially when he discovers that she is the Trojan horse sent to bring him down …

We hope you enjoy Troy and Kendall’s bone-melting journey toward sexily-ever-after. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA (we’ll respond with a signed bookplate, newsletter and bookmark), or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net.

Here’s wishing you love, romance and HOT reading.

Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington

We dedicate this book to every man who believes himself immune to love—and every woman who’s endeavored to prove him wrong … And to our magnificent editor, Brenda Chin, who feels it necessary every now and again to warn us to be careful about boundaries, even as she wholeheartedly cheers us on while we push against them!

1

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK he’s not just asking us to bend over so he can stick it in and break it off?”

Troy Metaxas stared at his younger brother across the diner table, his cup halfway to his mouth. Trust Ari to phrase the question that way.

He put his coffee down and sat back in the red leather booth. The Quality Diner was decked out for the coming holidays, with the struggling owner partial to the more whimsical themes of snowflakes and icicles, probably because they saw so little of either here in the Pacific Northwest. A white, papier-mâché angel hung above their booth, lazily spinning first one way and then the other.

He’d be lying if he said the possibility that Manolis Philippidis was planning to do just as Ari was suggesting hadn’t crossed his mind. It had. At least a thousand times a day. But ever since the wealthy Greek businessman had reestablished contact with him a week ago, offering an olive branch on top of the contract that Troy had been trying to close … well, he’d been forced to listen.

He knew what he was getting into. But this project was important to him. After the family lumber mill closed over four years ago, he’d felt responsible for providing the town of Earnest with another employer. Then luck had met persistence and he’d come across an idea worth pursuing in emerging green technology. The solar panels the new company would produce would not only revolutionize the industry by capturing a wider array of the sun’s rays, the thin-film method was also cost-saving, meaning more could afford the product.

A win-win situation all the way around.

He considered his brother. “So long as we finally get the project off the ground, what does it matter?”

“So your advice is to smile and take it?”

“That would be exactly my advice.” He leaned forward. “Take a look around you, Ari. The unemployment rate in Earnest has risen to nearly thirty-five percent. And that doesn’t count the residents forced to leave because they’ve lost their homes or had to relocate to find work.”

He watched his brother look around the interior of the diner. It was a Wednesday morning and there were only a few people inside where once it would have been full of lumber mill workers catching breakfast before heading to work. Hell, five years ago, the midnight shift would just be knocking off and doing the same before going home.

“Half the businesses outside this diner have closed, with another quarter in danger of doing the same,” he said. “Don’t you think the town’s worth a little discomfort?”

He didn’t mention the exact reason for the collapse in negotiations between Philippidis and the Metaxas brothers six months ago. He didn’t have to. Because the reason sat across from him. Ari’s seduction and then stealing of Philippidis’s bride on the evening before their wedding was the reason why the vital business arrangement had gone awry.

Even though it all seemed like yesterday to him, he had to keep in mind that Ari was now engaged to Elena Anastasios, and that she was entering into her third trimester with their child. No longer Philippidis’s stolen bride, but Troy’s soon-to-be sister-in-law and mother to his niece or nephew.

Ari shook his head now, as if in answer to his unsaid thoughts. “Considering all that no good SOB has done to us over this past half year, I would think the last thing we would want is to get into bed with him.”

Troy didn’t blink.

Ari raised his hands as if in surrender. “Okay, bad analogy. But you know what I mean. Who’s to say this isn’t just another set-up? That he’s not going to string us along, get us to invest the few cents we have left, and then pull the rug out from under us again?”

“Who’s to say he is?”

Ari remained dubious.

“Look, we’ve exhausted every other possibility. It’s either this or we give up on the project altogether. That’s not an option for me.” Troy sipped from his coffee, the unsweetened liquid bitter against his tongue. “Anyway, we know who we’re dealing with this time. And we’re prepared for anything he can possibly throw our way.”

Ari looked at his watch. Troy was as anxious as he was for the other three men scheduled to join them for breakfast to arrive. Because it meant that they were that much closer to the meeting they were to have with Philippidis at the mill offices later that morning.

The old cowbell above the door clanged. Troy glanced over his shoulder. It wasn’t any of their three breakfast mates. It was a woman in black, close-fitting running pants and an oversize University of Oregon sweatshirt, looking more fit than he felt, her blond hair twisted into a knot at the back of her neck. She stripped the sweatshirt off, revealing the clingy tank she wore underneath.

Troy’s gaze drifted over her nicely outlined curves. From her calves, up past her firm thighs, her rounded hips and then to where her breasts were two perfect half-globes under the damp fabric.

“Good morning!” Verna called out from the kitchen window. “Take a seat anywhere.”

The latest addition was slightly out of breath as she voiced her thanks and chose the booth behind Troy, causing his seat to jostle a bit. He nearly spilled the coffee he was holding.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No problem.”

Troy looked to find Ari grinning at him.

“What?”

His brother shook his head. “Did I say anything? Because I don’t think I did.”

Troy grimaced. Since when had it become a crime to appreciate a woman’s form? Especially seeing as it had been so long since he’d allowed himself the luxury. That and there hadn’t been much opportunity. When you lived in the same small town you’d grown up in, and knew just about everyone, it was hard to stare at a woman’s breasts and think of anything having to do with sex. It seemed a bit too … incestuous somehow, considering you knew her husband and kids and her parents and grandparents, not to mention that she used to wear braces or had a habit of drinking one beer too many on Friday nights at the pub.

Although he did have to admit he’d found himself doing exactly that lately, ogling the locals. How long had it been since he’d been on a proper date? Screw proper, when was the last time he’d lost himself in the scent of a woman’s neck? Buried himself in her sweet flesh? Far longer than he cared to admit. And his body was apparently no longer willing to allow him to ignore it.

Just as soon as he got this contract nailed down, he’d dust off his little black book and call up a willing female or two in Seattle and go out on a date, he promised himself.

“Oh, you are in a sorry state, aren’t you?” Ari asked. “How long has it been, anyway?” His dark brows rose high on his forehead. “Please don’t tell me since Gail.”

Troy squinted at him and leaned forward, indicating that he should lower his voice. With so few customers in the place, there was little doubt the woman behind him had heard what his brother had said.

“Later,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it, bro? It’s always later with you.” Ari leaned forward as well, but he didn’t lower his voice. “Face it, you need to get laid.”

The woman coughed. Troy looked to find her in the middle of sipping a glass of water, the contents of which she nearly spewed across the table in front of her.

“Cute,” he muttered. “Very cute.”

“Just sayin’,” Ari said with a shrug.

Diner owner Verna Burns, who was also serving as the waitress, approached the woman’s table and offered her coffee from the pot she held. Judging by the sounds, the woman accepted.

“Oh, Ari?” Verna said. “Thank Elena for that platter of baklava for me, will you? It was gone within a blink. Everyone loves it.”

Before his brother could tell her he would pass on her sentiments to his fiancée, the telephone began ringing in the back of the diner. Verna hurried off to answer it with an apology.

“Elena’s making baklava for the diner?” Troy asked.

Ari’s grin disappeared. “She’s still interested in buying the place.”

“And apparently you’re still against it.”

“We’re going to have a baby in three months. How is she going to handle that and this place?”

“Women have been balancing both since the beginning of time, Ari.”

“Yeah, well.”

Troy felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to look into their neighbor’s amused face. Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks brushed with color, her mouth full and smiling. “I’m sorry. Can I bother you for a little sugar?” she asked.

Oh, he’d like to give her a little sugar, all right.

“Sure.” Troy picked up the container and handed it to her, noting that her nails were neat and manicured, white half moons on the tips.

“Thanks.”

He refused to look at Ari as he turned back, but couldn’t ignore his quiet chuckle.

“Not a word,” he muttered.

“Pardon me?” the woman asked.

“What? Oh. I’m sorry. I was talking to my brother.”

“I see. I’m sorry to bother you again, but is that fresh cream there on your table? If it is, it’s much better than this powdered stuff.”

It took Troy a moment to process her request. When he reached for the cream, Ari was holding it out for him. He took it and nearly spilled the contents on the woman because he wasn’t paying attention.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No harm, no foul,” she said with that same knowing smile.

“Good going, hot shot,” his brother said.

Troy glared at him.

The woman again. “I suppose since we’re having coffee together, I might as well introduce myself.” She held out a slender hand. “Kendall Banks.”

He shook her hand. “Troy Metaxas. This is my brother Ari. Although I’m considering disowning him.”

She laughed as she shook Ari’s hand, as well.

“Ah, the famous Metaxas brothers. Nice to meet you both.”

“Are you from here?” Ari asked, much to Troy’s chagrin.

“No, no. Just visiting your fine town.”

“Staying at Foss’s Bed and Breakfast?”

“Yes. How did you know? Oh. Never mind. It’s probably the only place in town, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Where are you from?” Ari asked.

“Portland.”

Troy wanted to reach across and stuff a paper napkin in his brother’s mouth, anything to keep him from continuing the conversation.

“I’ll let you two get back to your breakfast. Oh, wait.” She held out the cream and sugar. “You can have these back. Thank you.”

“Sure,” Troy said, putting them back on the table.

Something outside the window thankfully caught Ari’s attention. “Is that Palmer?”

Troy followed his gaze to see Palmer DeVoe, one of the three due to meet them for breakfast, along with Caleb Payne and Graham Johnson, the company’s longtime attorney, coming out of Penelope Weaver’s shop. He was grinning and shaking his head as he stopped on the sidewalk. Then he glanced in the direction of the diner and began crossing the street.

Palmer came inside and Troy stood to greet him, shaking hands with the man he’d once played varsity football with, but more recently had been his business adversary. Until Palmer had closed down his operation and offered to come on board with them.

Troy was convinced that the latest of Philippidis’s key players to jump ship was to credit for the Greek’s about-face. Well, that and the fact that Caleb Payne’s mother, whom Philippidis had recently been dating, had reportedly dumped him when her son objected to the union.

Whatever the reason, Troy was glad for the chance to reunify with the Greek. The way he saw it, it was better to have him as a wary friend than an angry enemy. Philippidis had thrown up so many roadblocks in their efforts to secure funding to convert the lumber mill into a manufacturing plant that would produce solar panels, he’d almost abandoned all hope.

Then Philippidis had contacted him and asked for a meeting to see if they couldn’t finally work things out.

The offer couldn’t have come at a better time.

Palmer nodded toward the woman behind Troy as he sat down in the booth next to him.

Ari grinned. Troy grimaced.

“Where are Caleb and Graham?” Palmer asked, taking the hint.

“They should be here any minute.” There was a glint of sunlight off metal. “Speak of the devils. I think they just pulled up.” “Good,” Troy said.

The sooner they were on with this, the better …

2

THREE HOURS LATER, TROY stood in his office, the telephone plastered to his ear. He was trying to convince a supplier to wait one week longer for the go-ahead on an order he’d placed half a year ago.

Barely visible to him were his surroundings.

He’d grown up in the old lumber mill. Had hid under the metal desk to his right that once belonged to his father and his grandfather before him. Had pressed his nose against the glass walls on three sides of the office, and written his name in the fog circle of condensation from his breath on the multi-paned windows through which thick forests could be seen. Had played on the iron-wrought catwalk and stairs that overlooked the open mill space below—a large area that used to buzz with activity but was now quiet, the old equipment kept more for sentimental reasons than any real use.

Every now and again Troy would catch the scent of wood chips, reminding him of times gone by. But mostly he was too focused on the future to notice it or much about his surroundings.

“I’m going to have to go up on the price,” the sales rep said.

Troy rubbed his closed eyelids. When he opened them back up, his gaze fell on the Christmas card he’d received in today’s mail. From his ex-girlfriend, Gail. And his ex-best friend, Ray. Who were now a married couple sending out holiday cards together.

“Look,” he said into the phone. “My secretary is motioning me into a meeting. Let me get back to you later today or early tomorrow …”

He quickly wrapped up the call and stood for a long moment trying to regain his bearings while he stared at the Christmas card. Lately, his days were full of like phone conversations. And they were beginning to take a toll on him. He’d talked his way around, out of and into so many corners he’d considered investing in a sledgehammer.

“You ready?” Ari asked from the open doorway, standing alongside Patience, his secretary.

Troy glanced through the glass. The conference room was at the far end of the wide elevated walkway, five glass-walled offices in between, while another five lay on the other side of his own office. Meeting participants were milling around, getting coffee and talking to each other. He hadn’t even noticed them come in. Which was saying something, because they would have had to walk by his office.

His gaze went to Manolis Philippidis, who was the only one sitting. He was drumming his fingers against the table and looking at his watch.

Troy tossed the unopened greeting card into the wastebasket, accepted a file from Patience and followed his brother to the meeting room.

After greeting everyone else, he finally stood in front of Philippidis. He extended his hand, half expecting the Greek to ignore him. Instead, he was surprised when he got to his feet and returned the handshake.

“Let’s do business,” Troy said, feeling twenty pounds lighter as he took his seat at the head of the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” a female voice said from the doorway.

Troy looked up to see a beautiful, leggy blonde enter the conference room. A familiar beautiful, leggy blonde.

He nearly fell into his chair as the woman who had introduced herself as Kendall Banks earlier at the diner shook hands with Philippidis and then the rest of the table before presenting herself to him.

Outside of her name, it was the sexy smile that linked her to the woman he’d met earlier. Otherwise, she looked completely different. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, a warm, golden blonde.

She wore makeup that accentuated her green eyes and complemented her naughty mouth, but didn’t overwhelm her pretty face. And she’d exchanged her running pants and tank for a plum-colored suit with a short skirt, her long legs made longer still by the black heels she wore.

Troy found himself tugging at his collar as he took her hand.

“Hello again,” she said with the hint of a smile.

Suddenly, his collar wasn’t the only item of clothing that had grown tight.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said to the room at large, tugging her gaze from his and walking around the table to the only free seat. “I was pulled over by your local sheriff for speeding and … well, afterward I really needed to speed, but didn’t dare.”

Chuckles and laughs.

“Did Barnaby ticket you?” Ari asked.

Kendall’s smile was wide and unapologetic. “Of course not.”

Philippidis cleared his throat. “Miss Banks will be the point man … or woman, rather, in putting this deal together. Seeing as my regular point men—” he looked over at Palmer and Caleb “—are now working for you.”

Troy couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from Kendall’s face where she’d taken the seat at the far end of the table. The brief arch of her right brow told him she hadn’t known about the little detail her boss had just shared. Did that mean she was also in the dark about the history behind their business dealings?

Ari was the one to clear his throat this time. “Troy?”

He blinked and stared at his brother.

“Oh, yes. Right.” He opened his file and his secretary took her cue and began handing out the notes he’d had printed up. “If you’ll refer to page two, paragraph four …”

THREE HOURS AND A CATERED working lunch later, Kendall lingered at the conference table rewriting notes that didn’t need rewriting while the other meeting attendees left one by one.

Finally, she and Troy were alone in the room.

She slowly closed her leather-bound notebook and sat back in her chair, watching as he walked from the door where he’d just seen off his brother to the window overlooking the grounds to her right.

“Did this used to be a mill?” she asked, appreciating the fit of his navy blue suit, rather than their surroundings.

When they’d met earlier at the diner, she’d been instantly struck by how hot Troy Metaxas was. Intensely so. And his conversation with his brother before the others had arrived had amused her to no end.

So there was no one currently in Mr. Troy Metaxas’s life then? Good news for her. Because there was no one in her life, either. Not after her last boyfriend had taken a powder, saying something about her being too forward for him, too outspoken.

How was she supposed to know that his mother hadn’t been aware that he’d lost his job three months ago?

Well, she did now. And Kendall was currently without a boyfriend. But seeing as they’d only dated for four months, she wasn’t really crying in her chardonnay.

“Yes.” Troy finally answered her question as he turned from the window. “My family owned this lumber mill for nearly a century before closing it for good four years ago.”

She nodded. “I like that you’re holding on to the history.”

She’d moved her chair back from the table and slowly crossed her legs. Troy stood to her right, giving him a bird’s-eye view of her suggestive movements.

He didn’t disappoint as he leisurely took in the line of her legs. She worked hard on them, tried to run at least three miles, four times a week, so she knew they were fantastic. And wasn’t averse to using them to their full advantage.

“So how long have you been working for Philippidis?” he asked.

She raised her brows. “How long? Well, that’s a complicated question.”

He waited.

“You see, I don’t actually work directly for Manolis. He brought me on board especially for this project.”

She didn’t understand his grimace. “And you’ve known him for … how long?”

She rubbed the front of her shoe against the back of her opposite calf. “I’ve been familiar with him for, oh, about eight months or so. He helped my father out with our law firm in Portland.”

“He owns it,” he stated rather than asked.

“Yes. Manolis currently owns it. But my father’s hoping to buy it back at some point.”

“I’d tell him not to hold his breath.”

“Oh, the hostility.” She put her notebook into her briefcase. “I picked up on it during the meeting. What’s the history here?”

Troy scrubbed his hair back from his forehead. The telltale sign made him all the more attractive to her. “It doesn’t matter.”

He looked at her again, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was interested, or if he’d rather she’d left.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

He gestured toward the table. “I don’t mean to cast a shadow on your qualifications, but—”

“But you’re casting a shadow.”

He didn’t blink.

Kendall slowly uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. She collected her briefcase and sauntered over to him. “Rest assured, Mr. Metaxas, I’m very, very good at what I do.”

“Troy. Please.”

She stood within breathing distance of him and she noticed the way he seemed to inhale her scent.

Hot. Definitely hot.

“As to why I, um, stayed behind after the meeting …” She allowed her gaze to skim over his tall, solid form. “Well, I won’t lie to you, Troy. Ever since we crossed paths this morning, before I knew who you were, I’ve been attracted to you.”

He cleared his throat, apparently not as unaffected by her presence as he’d like her to think. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Miss Banks.”

“Kendall, please.” She smiled. “And I don’t mix business with pleasure, either. My business is my pleasure.” She slid her free hand inside the lapel of his suit jacket, running her fingertips along the expensive material, and the back of her knuckles against his tight abs through his broadcloth shirt.

He inhaled sharply.

“And I happen to think that we can be as successful in the bedroom as in the boardroom …”

3

THE WOMAN WAS DOWNRIGHT distracting. And for the life of him, Troy couldn’t decipher whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Bad thing. Definitely a bad thing.

More than at any time in the past year, it was important for him to give his full attention to pulling this contract together. And thoughts of Kendall Banks’s long, long legs weren’t helping him do that.

To the contrary, they were inspiring him to think of a different business altogether. Monkey business.

“Would you like a cheese plate with dinner?”

“Huh?” Troy registered that he stood in the kitchen of the large Metaxas estate, and that Thekla Kalomiris, the housekeeper—who, along with her husband of thirty-five years, Frixos, took care of everything at the house and surrounding property—was talking to him.

He looked down at the cold beer bottle in his hand, barely remembering taking it out of the refrigerator.

“A cheese plate,” the Cypriot turned American citizen repeated. “Would you like one to go along with dinner tonight?”

He squinted at her.

“Roast lamb.”

“Ah. No. No, I don’t think that’s necessary, Miss Thekla. Thank you.”

He wandered into the connected dining room, looking out the French doors at the expansive deck that offered one of the most stunning views in Washington State.

“Long day,” Ari commented, coming to stand next to him.

“No longer than any other.”

“Come on. Even you have to be stressed after that meeting earlier.”

Ari turned toward the large table that could easily seat eighteen but was set for six tonight.

“Actually, I’m relieved.”

“Bullshit.”

This from another meeting attendee, Caleb Payne, who, in addition to being Philippidis’s ex-employee, was also dating Troy and Ari’s younger cousin Bryna, thus explaining his presence at a family dinner.

Caleb poured a finger of whiskey into a cut crystal glass and then took a long pull. “That despot is up to something. I know it.”

Troy held his gaze. “Well, if anyone would be familiar with the way Philippidis operates, it’s you, Caleb.” He raised his beer to him. “That’s why I like having you on this side of the table. If you spot anything unusual, speak up.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bryna said, taking the glass from Caleb’s hand and downing the remainder of the contents. “He will. I swear, it’s all he talks about lately. Nonstop. Even in bed.”

“Oh, TMI,” Ari said, raising his hand.

“I concur,” Troy agreed.

Bryna smiled widely, apparently having gotten in her daily jab that made the brothers cringe at how quickly she was growing up. More than a cousin, she was like their younger sister considering she’d been raised by their father after her parents died when she was twelve.

“What does TMI mean?” the elder Metaxas asked as he entered.

The four looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Never mind, Dad,” Ari said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for him. “Just another acronym that will be passé before you have a chance to commit it to memory.”

Percy Metaxas grimaced as he sat down. “Damn kids. Always reinventing the wheel.”

“Not reinventing, exactly,” Bryna said, taking the seat to his left. “Just adding a little oil every now and again.” She briefly squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you got great use out of your own oil can when you were our age.”

Percy’s grin was large. “Nothing that I can repeat in polite company.”

Troy considered his half-empty beer bottle and placed it on the bar. “Since when are any of us considered polite?”

Percy looked around the table. “Isn’t there someone missing?” Finally his gaze settled on Ari. “Where’s Elena?”

Troy tried to hide his frown as he took the seat to his father’s right. Would there ever come a time when he’d hear her name and not instantly remember what had happened six months ago?

He could only hope that his renewed business dealings with Philippidis would provide him that relief. Because it wasn’t doing him or his brother any good to continue to hold on to past grievances.

“She’ll, um, be here in a minute,” Ari said, taking a seat two up from Troy, leaving the one between them for his fiancée.

As if on cue, the woman in question hurried into the room. “Ari’s too much of a gentleman to share that I can’t seem to hold my liquor anymore.” She ran her elegant fingers over her swollen belly. “Sometimes it seems her favorite place is resting against my bladder.”

“His,” Ari said. “And what do you mean liquor?”

“She didn’t mean literally, cousin,” Bryna said, shooting him an eye roll. “Elena probably hasn’t tasted a drop of alcohol since she got pregnant. She loves that baby even more than she loves you, I think.”

Ari looked panicked where he held out a chair for Elena.

She laughed. “Impossible. I might be able to love our child as much as … but I could never love her more,” she said.

Ari appeared instantly relieved. “Him. You could never love him more.”

“Why don’t you two just find out the gender and be done with it?” Percy asked. “It was cute for the first five minutes, but it’s starting to irritate even me now.” His smile softened his words. “Besides, I’d like to know which sex my first grandchild is.”

“Sorry, Dad. You’re just going to have to wait like the rest of us,” Ari said.

Troy sat back, silently watching them interact. The roast leg of lamb was offered up with potatoes, with Bryna helping Miss Thekla serve. The cook refused to join them when they invited her to sit, as she did every time the invitation was extended. They all knew she preferred to take her meals with her husband in their suite of rooms just off the kitchen.

Everyone conversed easily, with Bryna touching Caleb’s sleeve every now and again, and Ari talking to the baby growing in Elena’s belly. The elder Metaxas seemed to enjoy dinner in a way that he hadn’t done since Troy’s mother had passed away. The more people that were added to the table, the happier he seemed to grow. And that afforded Troy a measure of relief that no number of successful business deals ever could.

For a time, he and Ari had been concerned that they hadn’t lost just one parent, but both, with Percy sinking into some sort of listless funk which none of them seemed capable of helping him out of. His interest in the family business waned, interaction with his two sons was rare outside his occasionally showing up at the dinner table, and Troy had worried that his only wish was to join his wife in the great hereafter.

Then, just before Troy and Ari had traveled to Greece, Percy was diagnosed with prostate cancer … and he’d decided not to be treated for it.

Troy understood that it was a viable option. That his cancer was slow growing and wasn’t likely to be the cause of the end of his life. But it had created enough of a scare for his two sons and niece.

Then a pregnant Elena had accepted Ari’s marriage proposal and was spending more and more time at the house. And Bryna had insisted that they accept Caleb even before he had crossed enemy lines.

And just like that, Percy Metaxas seemed to have found a new lease on life.

“You should have seen him,” Ari was saying, making Troy realize that he’d zoned out from the conversation. “His tongue was practically dragging on the floor.”

Troy narrowed his gaze, hoping his brother wasn’t talking about him.

“And then,” Bryna said, putting her hand on Caleb’s shoulder to pre-empt him from saying something first. “He completely forgot where he was. Ari had to remind him that there was a meeting he needed to conduct.”

Troy nearly choked on the lamb he was in the middle of swallowing.

Percy chuckled. “Troy? Our Troy? Impossible. No one is capable of throwing him off his game. Especially not a woman.”

“Oh, but this isn’t just any woman, Mr. Metaxas. This one—” Caleb’s words stopped as Bryna elbowed him in the ribs. He chuckled good-naturedly and put his arm around her, pulling her back against his front. “This one is tailor made for Troy.”

Ari chimed in, “Light to his dark, and just as tenacious.”

Tenacious? Troy wasn’t sure he’d use the word to describe Kendall Banks. He remembered the way she’d brushed the back of her knuckles against his taut stomach and grinned. Well, okay. It wasn’t the only word he’d use to describe her.

He blinked to find everyone staring at him.

“What?” he fairly croaked.

A heartbeat later, the entire table erupted in laughter at his expense.

And he joined in.

KENDALL REASONED THAT she probably should have gone home. It was nine-thirty on a Friday night and all was not well.

She sat in her room at the bed and breakfast, listening to the complete silence around her. Mrs. Foss, the owner, had long since disappeared to her own rooms downstairs, and it seemed the entire town had retired for the evening.

She supposed it would be a pretty good bet that the single pub on Main Street would have some business. But she couldn’t seem to generate any enthusiasm for a solo outing.

She squeezed lotion into her hand and rubbed it over her left leg, repeating the ritual with the other. She’d taken a shower and wore undies and a short pink robe her sister had gotten her last Christmas. She put the lotion bottle on the nightstand and sighed. She could always get dressed and drive home to Portland now. Spend the weekend doing the holiday shopping she still needed to see to. Lord knew nothing was going on here. Meetings were suspended until Monday.

And it was becoming increasingly clear that yummy Troy Metaxas intended to honor his belief that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, no matter how overtly she flirted with him.

She flopped back onto the mattress, twirling the robe’s silky belt around her finger.

Okay, so she wasn’t used to such rejection. Not that she got every man she set her sights on, but having to face that man every day took its toll on a girl.

She should have gone home.

She pushed up off the bed, looked for her slippers, couldn’t find them, then stepped to the door, quietly cracking it open. Caleb Payne was also staying in the bed-and-breakfast in the room at the end of the hall, but she hadn’t seen him come back yet. And guessed he might not, seeing as he and Bryna Metaxas seemed to have something hot and heavy going on.

Otherwise, the place was quiet and empty.

Padding silently down the hall and then the stairs, she wondered where Mrs. Foss had stored the homemade apple pie she’d offered her a piece of earlier. Just a small slice, she told herself. Something decadent to make up for the other decadent somethings she might have had if Troy wasn’t so damn stubborn.

She knew he wanted her. Saw it in his eyes every time their gazes met. So why was he fighting so hard? Why didn’t he just give in and enjoy what she was offering up? A little no-strings sex never hurt anybody. In fact, it usually helped.

Kendall certainly could use some right about now.

A floorboard in the foyer creaked under her foot. She made a face and tried to be a little more careful, staying just to the side of the well-traveled paths of the old house in the hopes that she wouldn’t run into another old board determined to give away her intentions.

The fanlight above the oven was on in the kitchen. And right there on top of the stove sat what she was looking for, covered in plastic wrap.

Oh, yes. A piece of apple pie would definitely hit the spot right now.

She quietly got out a dish and served herself up a helping, wondering if there was any ice cream to be had with it. Bingo! She took a carton of French vanilla from the freezer, scooped some out and then put it away.

Mmm …

Nothing was so good as a forbidden treat indulged in when nobody was looking.

She began padding her way back to her room, licking her fork, when a shadow appeared at the doorway.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized who it was. And it wasn’t Caleb. Rather it was a treat better than homemade apple pie, even with ice cream. Troy Metaxas …

4

HE SHOULDN’T HAVE COME.

Troy stood on the porch of Foss’s B and B just outside the arc of light created by the fixture over the door and considered his options. If he knocked, Mrs. Foss would very likely be the one to answer. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to face her this late on a Friday night.

The town as a whole had been surprised at best, mystified at worst when the Fosses had first decided to turn their six-bedroom house into a bed-and-breakfast about a decade ago. They had eight kids, all of who had moved out of town as soon as they came of age because their parents had been so overprotective they were barely allowed out of the yard until they were eighteen.

Then Mr. Foss had died and Mrs. Foss continued on, twice as miserable as before. While Troy ran into her only on the rare occasion, none of his encounters with her had been particularly pleasant. Partly because she blamed his family for the loss of her children to bigger cities after the shut-down of the lumber mill. Mostly because she was a bitch.

The thought of seeing her now seriously threatened whatever latent desires had brought him there in the first place.

He began to turn away when the door opened. He turned back, about to offer his apologies to the ornery old woman … and was instead presented with exactly the person who had haunted his dreams for the past three days.

Kendall.

“Hi,” she said simply.

“Hi.” He took her in from head to foot, thinking that she should wear that short, silky pink robe all the time. He’d have never been able to refuse her for as long as he had if he’d only seen this.

The deep V revealed that she wore no bra or camisole, her breasts soft, pale mounds. At least what he could see. What he couldn’t see, he could easily guess at as her nipples poked against the fabric, drawing attention to the darker, puckered skin there. The hem of the robe hit her at just below what was decent, if decent could be used to describe any part of the sexy-as-all-get-out woman in front of him.

She shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other, causing her robe to open. He caught a glimpse of the lacy crotch of her white panties and nearly groaned aloud.

“Is there a particular reason you stopped by on this chilly night?” she asked with a saucy smile.

Oh, there was a really good reason. And it was looking straight at him …

KENDALL HAD TROY EXACTLY where she wanted him: in her bedroom.

Well, all right. Maybe not exactly where she wanted him. Because that would put him right between her thighs.

All good things come to those who wait …

She licked her lips, tasting vanilla ice cream there. “Would you like some pie?” she asked.

He still stood just inside the room in his overcoat, his gaze darting toward the closed door.

“Don’t worry. Mrs. Foss sleeps like the dead.”

His grimace was altogether too handsome. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“You’re right. She’s probably listening to everything we say through a glass pressed to the wall.” She’d put her plate down on a small table near the window that was flanked by two wicker chairs. She sat in one and adjusted her robe a beat slower than she should have. So shoot her. She was enjoying his reaction to her wanton actions a little too much. Her panties were already dripping and the silk rasped against her übersensitive nipples, eliciting a wicked shiver.

“Please. I’ll share.”

He looked back at the closed door again, then finally sat down. He seemed to realize he was still wearing his coat and got back up to take it off, carefully folding it over the back of the chair before sitting down again.

The sign of a true bachelor.

She took a slow, sinful bite of the pie, humming as she did so. “As sour as Mrs. Foss is, she makes a sweet apple pie.”

“That’s because she doesn’t make it. Verna at the diner does.”

Kendall raised her brows. “Thanks for the insider info.” She smiled. “Does everyone know everyone else’s business here in Earnest?”

“Pretty much.”

She took another bite and pointed the fork in his direction. “So word will be all over about your visit then?”

“It will probably be on the front page of the Earnest Gazette. Along with a picture.”

“Above or below the fold?”

“The Gazette doesn’t have a fold. It’s more of a newsletter.”

She laughed as she held out a forkful of pie for him to take. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’ve eaten.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Good point.” He took the fork and put the bite in his mouth.

Kendall crossed her legs again, well aware that when she moved, the skimpy bottom of her robe bowed open. At least until she closed the flaps again. She watched him have difficulty swallowing.

“So, that means you might as well do what you came here to do then …” she led.

He squinted at her in the dim light cast by the table lamp. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

Oh, he was going to follow her all right. Right into that bed.

“Well, if you leave now, the headline will read, ‘Town Good Boy Stops in for a Quickie.’”

He began coughing. She handed him her glass of water.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So we might as well get our front page’s worth, don’t you think?”

TROY HAD NEVER MET A woman as forward … or as hot … as Kendall Banks. Which was just as well, because he was having a hell of a time trying to carry on a casual conversation with her looking like sin incarnate, an all too inviting bed two steps away.

He stood up. She stood up. He raised his hand to the side of her face, marveling at the mercurial green of her eyes. One moment, lime, the next, almost brown. His gaze fastened on her full lips. He rubbed his thumb against the plump pillow that was her bottom one and then touched the pad to his own tongue, tasting vanilla ice cream.

“Now, this is more like—”

He kissed her mid-sentence, and their teeth knocked together. He winced and watched as she did the same. She leaned in, nearly kneeing him in the groin. He tilted his head the same way she did, then moved the other way at the same time. He tried kissing her again … and got her nose when she looked down at where he was slightly standing on one of her bare toes.

Finally, he lifted his hands up in surrender. If he’d needed any more proof that this wasn’t a good idea, he’d just gotten it.

“Oh, don’t even consider it, buster,” she whispered.

She reached for his tie, loosened it and then took it off together. Then she worked on the first few buttons of his shirt before shoving him toward the bed. Luckily he landed on it, sitting on the edge, instead of on the floor.

Kendall slid her fingers under his chin, drawing his gaze to her eyes rather than to her breasts where they swayed against her robe, promising to come out to play.

“I think we can do better than that,” she murmured. “In fact, I know we can …”

She bent down, pressing her mouth against his.

Sweet Jesus, but she tasted good. Like spiced apples and one hundred percent female.

“Relax,” she whispered, pushing his shirt down over his arms without undoing the rest of the buttons, essentially trapping him in his own clothes. “You do know the meaning of the word, don’t you, Mr. Metaxas?”

Oh, he knew the meaning, all right. He was just having a hard time applying it to the immediate circumstances. His erection pressed almost painfully against the front of his pants. A very hard time.

The way his brother and friends talked, he figured he was probably the only man on earth who had never had a one-night stand. The only women he’d been intimate with he had dated. Usually for a couple of months before he even got to second base, much less third.

The thought that he hadn’t even taken Kendall out for coffee struck him as odd. As if what was happening were part of a dream instead of reality.

She pressed her fingers against his hard-on and he groaned.

This was so much better than any dream.

“Mmm. Told you,” she murmured, kissing him again.

“Told me what?”

She forced his shoulders back until he was half lying on the bed, his arms still pinned by his shirt. “Told you we could do this better.”

She stood, her gaze plastered to his as she toyed with the belt fastened around her waist. Then she slowly untied it, allowing the silky material of the robe to fall away, exposing a narrow slip of her nudeness down to the thin scrap of white cotton that was her panties.

Kendall curved her fingers so that they rested inside the lapels and slid them up and down, her knuckles grazing her own skin.

Hot. So very, very hot.

“If I’d have known you were coming I would have worn sexier panties.”

Troy forced a swallow down his impossibly tight throat. “I think what you have on is sexy enough.”

Who was he kidding? He nearly came merely looking at the way the cotton clung to her springy curls.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing the fabric to move back and forth. “Do you think so?”

Troy nodded several times, not trusting his voice.

Kendall smiled and popped one of her shoulders out of the robe, then the other, as she held the material over her breasts.

He groaned. He was grossly unprepared for any of this. He’d never even been to a strip joint, for God’s sake.

Okay, maybe he had gone once. But it had been for a business meeting and he’d barely looked at the girls on stage. At least until one of them stuck her perfectly rounded bottom into his face. He’d been so embarrassed he hadn’t known what to do, until his brother Ari handed him a five-dollar bill and indicated he should put it in her G-string.

He had. And the instant the stripper had moved away, Troy had called the meeting to an abrupt end.

Ari had teased him about that night for months afterward.

But Kendall … she was no strange stripper looking for a fiver to be tucked into her underpants. Although with her smoking body, she could easily qualify for the job.

She leaned over him, kissing him so thoroughly he forgot about G-strings and robes and just about everything else outside of his growing desire to be joined with her.

Now.

5

KENDALL HAD KNOWN HER share of guys. And while a couple of them had come close to Troy in the looks department, not a one could touch the passion that was written on every inch of him.

While she played at casual seduction, a deep, hot ball of wonderment began growing low in her belly. A sensation she wasn’t familiar with but intrigued her no end.

There was just something about the way he looked at her. Allowed her to take control.

She broke their kiss and leaned back to tug his shirt from the waist of his slacks before hauling it up and over his head, releasing him from his temporary restraint. His gaze was solidly on her breasts as she worked and she couldn’t help smiling at his fascination with such a basic part of the female anatomy. Her anatomy.

She tucked her fingers inside the waist of his slacks. He drew in a deep breath. She might have believed he’d done it in order to make room for her. But in Troy’s case, she suspected it was born of genuine surprise. Maybe not so much at her actions, but at his own reaction.

A sweep of her thumb opened the fastener and a tug brought the zipper down. He wore simple white briefs. No designer label that she could make out.

There was nothing simple, however, about the erection that sought freedom from the material.

She briefly lost her breath as she reached inside the front of his briefs, taking the length of him in her hand. Like the man himself, his penis was thick and hard and intense, the purple head looking somehow angry at having been caught off guard.

She stood back up and shrugged out of her robe, glad to be rid of it, having moved far beyond any seductive acts. She helped Troy out of the last of his clothing until he was a chiseled, breathing Greek god against the bed, every inch of him ripped and corded and bulging with life.

He grasped her hand and hauled her down on top of him. A destination she was all too willing to visit.

His skin was deliciously hot against hers, his hands probing and insistent. Gone was the awkwardness of earlier, replaced by curious exploration. She discovered that his inner thighs were particularly sensitive to her touch, while he learned that nuzzling the nape of her neck melted her bones.

He raised her hands above her head and then rolled her over, visually sweeping her body.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

She smiled. “Can we—um—save the commentary for later?”

His chuckle was low and sensual. “Not exactly modest, are you?”

She spread her legs wide. “Depends on what you consider modest …”

She watched as his expression darkened. She predicted he’d grab her hips and thrust deep inside her, which was exactly where she wanted him. Instead, he covered her womanhood with the span of his hand and gently squeezed.

Kendall nearly climaxed right then and there at the unexpectedness of the move.

She stretched her neck and restlessly ran her tongue along her lips as he stroked her.

So … so … nice …

When she felt his mouth against her clit, she nearly levitated from the bed.

Oh … yes …

In her cotton-stuffed brain, she couldn’t recall the last time a guy had gone down on her. Everything was usually so rushed … so destination oriented. There never seemed to be time for more than brief foreplay.

But Troy …

He spread her swollen flesh wide and blew on her.

Troy seemed determined to prove himself better than the rest.

He took her stiff bud into his mouth again and applied suction.

And the gathering heat in Kendall’s belly exploded …

FOR A WOMAN AS EXPERIENCED as Kendall appeared, she was amazingly responsive to his simple attempt to give her pleasure.

Troy wanted nothing more than to slide up her body and enter her then and there, to stake his claim on her, but he forced himself to stay where he was, leisurely lapping at her sensitive folds even as he inserted his index and middle fingers into her. Her slick muscles instantly gave way and then contracted around him, rippling evidence of her orgasm as he readied her for the next step in his own game of seduction.

To him, sex had never been about the end result; it was about savoring every last moment of the intimate connection. Whatever else might be said about him, it was widely accepted that he gave of himself one hundred percent in whatever he did.

And now his attention was focused solely on Kendall Banks.

When he suspected she was near climax again, he slowly withdrew his fingers, much to her consternation as she gave a small whimper and tried to close her thighs to keep him there. He smiled as he held her hips down with his hands and licked a trail up her trembling stomach, drawing damp circles around her breasts and suckling her pale nipples. She smelled of peaches and cream. Exactly how he might have imagined she would smell.

Finally, he was kissing her again. And found himself falling into the sensual heat of her mouth. He reached for the foil packet he’d taken out of his pocket before Kendall had stripped his pants from him and sheathed himself.

She immediately strained up against him, seeking relief. Instead, he ran the length of his erection down her dripping channel and back again, and then left it sandwiched between her swollen flesh, refusing her the joining she sought.

She made a small noise of disappointment and frustration and he kissed her deeply, smoothing her golden hair back from her face.

“Shh …” he said, appreciating the feel of her soft body under his even as she writhed in restless need.

He kissed her right eyebrow. Then her left. Drew his lips along the bridge of her nose, then bypassed her mouth for her chin. Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to relax. Still.

Better. Much better.

He nudged her thighs farther apart with his knee and then reached between them, caressing her before parting her flesh.

Then—finally—he entered her, sinking in to the hilt in one long, shudder-inducing stroke.

Her breath came out in a long rush. She curved her heels around his calves, taking him all in, her pupils large in her green, green eyes.

He kissed her full on the mouth. Only when he had her complete attention did he begin moving again.

A low moan emitted from her elegant throat, nearly taking whatever tenuous control he asserted over himself with it. He froze, listening to the thud-thud of his heartbeat, relishing every last sweet sensation of her, him and how it felt to be joined together.

Then he sank into her again.

“God … oh, God …” she whispered. “That feels so … good.”

And it did. Having Kendall under him, around him, holding him was unlike anything he had imagined. And he’d done a lot of imagining over the past few days.

This … this magnificent reality … far surpassed anything he’d been able to conjure.

And that was saying a lot.

As he felt himself growing nearer his crisis, he worked his hand between their bodies, smoothing his palm down over her belly, seeking, searching, until finally his fingers rested in her damp curls, finding his destination.

Kendall gasped and her body grabbed him tightly.

Then, and only then, did he allow himself to let go …

More!

The word echoed through Kendall’s mind as she fought to catch her breath.

“That … was … incredible …” she murmured, staring unseeingly at the wall opposite her. She shifted her gaze to stare into Troy’s face as he lifted to his hands. So intense. So damn hot.

She smiled, the deep embers burning in her veins fanning back into flames. She gently hit his arms near the elbows, causing his arms to collapse and then rolled him over, the bed springs groaning as she straddled him.

Mmm … yes. That was more like it.

The expression of surprise and chagrin he wore was nearly her undoing as she leaned over to kiss him.

“What, you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. So she kissed him again. She discovered she was at risk of sliding over the side of the bed.

“Scoot up,” she whispered.

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