A Not-So-Innocent Seduction Read online

  * * *

  Liam strained with all his might as he lifted the challenging weights in one last rep. Red-faced and sweating, he wiped his forehead and neck with a towel, realizing ruefully that the punishing exercise had not dulled the throbbing arousal that plagued him.

  He wasn’t sporting an erection, but his body hummed with the need for sex. It had been too long, and the blonde who checked in that afternoon was exactly the type he found irresistible. Her silky hair brushed her shoulder blades. Though she was thin, her curves were all woman.

  If she was staying for an entire six weeks, he would have to be on his guard. Just because he felt a visceral interest in Ms. Zoe Chamberlain didn’t mean the feelings were reciprocated. And because there was clearly more to Zoe than met the eye, he wouldn’t allow himself to pursue the attraction. Most men were vulnerable to a sexy woman. But Liam understood the consequences of becoming entangled with a liar.

  If he had to choose between satisfying the burning in his gut and being won over by a con, he would take a lot of cold showers. Zoe’s seeming innocence was dangerous. He’d learned the hard way at age sixteen that a pretty face could disguise a multitude of sins. He would cut off his hand before he ever put his mother and siblings through that kind of pain again. As the head of the Kavanaghs, his loyalty to his family superseded any fleeting attraction he might experience.

  Besides, for all he knew, Zoe could be married. He couldn’t imagine any husband in his right mind letting such a fresh, appealing woman take a solo six-week vacation, but who knows? The Silver Beeches had seen more than its share of odd relationships over the years.

  After showering and changing back into his dress shirt and slacks, he wandered out into the gym only to stop dead when he saw his new guest walking briskly on a treadmill. Her slender frame resonated with life and passion. At the moment, she was the only occupant of the facility other than himself, and he didn’t want to startle her. She was wearing earbuds attached to an iPod tucked into a hot-pink armband. Her ponytail swung energetically in time to the music only she could hear.

  Despite his lofty intentions and self-lecturing, he was drawn to her as inexorably as a green boy seeing his first seminude woman. His heartbeat picked up even as his breathing grew choppy. Telltale signs that his libido was far more powerful than his intellect.

  Deciding to take the long way around to the door, Liam assumed she would see him in her peripheral vision and thus not be alarmed. But even though he stayed far to the other side of the room, as soon as she caught sight of him, she hopped off the treadmill, shut it down and removed her earphones. “Hello, Mr. Kavanagh.”

  As she walked toward him, he studied the sensual grace in her movements. “You know who I am?” Though he tried to keep his gaze on her face, only a saint could ignore the rest of her body. Her Lycra-covered curves were mesmerizing.... That and the sheen of perspiration on her skin. He imagined she would look just this way after an enthusiastic round of lovemaking.

  She nodded, wiping her forehead with her forearm. “I pumped the bellman for details about you. A failing of mine. Curiosity killed the cat, and all that.”

  Liam liked knowing she was interested enough to ask questions. That was a good sign if he planned on pursuing her. Which he wouldn’t. Probably. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing from her expression that she had recognized his sexual interest. “A fairly minor sin, I’d say. Are you satisfied with your room?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? It’s amazing. The view alone is worth the price. Your hotel is beautiful.”

  “Thank you. My family built it just after World War II. And we’ve continued to add on and make improvements as the years go by.” He’d never had any trouble talking to women, but for some reason he didn’t understand, Zoe made his palms sweat. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, nor the most polished. Usually, people were intimidated by him, not vice versa. He couldn’t say why he was bungling what should have been a casual, polite encounter, but he was sure she didn’t want to hear a documentary on the Silver Beeches. “I’d better get back upstairs.”

  She cocked her head. “Was your offer sincere?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Her artless question befuddled him.

  “You said you would do anything to make me comfortable. I’m merely asking if that was standard hotel hyperbole, or if you meant it.”

  He felt his neck get warm. Was she coming on to him, or was she merely eccentric? “Of course, I meant it. Was there something you wanted?”

  * * *

  Zoe supposed it would be poor form to blurt out You! Even if his intensity and unsmiling sexiness definitely flipped her switches. She was having a hard time reading Liam Kavanagh. He seemed interested in her the way a man is interested in a woman he wants, but on the other hand, his body language telegraphed a definite wariness. Maybe he felt like she was too bourgeois to stay at his fancy hotel.

  If that were the case, she wouldn’t disabuse him. She was a pro at keeping secrets. Perhaps Liam might have a few of his own. Could two people with such defenses in place make any kind of connection?

  Her walkabout ways the last few years had made it virtually impossible to sustain any kind of deep relationship with a man. Since she wasn’t into casual hookups, she ended up alone most of the nights of her life. Ordinarily, she was able to convince herself that solitude was preferable to intimacy with a guy who might turn out to be a jerk.

  But now, with Liam Kavanagh in touching distance, she was suddenly and intensely aware of how long it had been since she’d been with a man. She was young and healthy. Liam exuded all sorts of breath-stealing pheromones. She had a gut feeling that his experience was exponentially ahead of hers...and that he was the kind of man a woman never forgot.

  What frightened her was the knowledge that he was unlike any man she had ever wanted before. Was her whole life about to change? She’d been prepared to face her mistakes. But Liam was a bend in the road she hadn’t anticipated. Could she deal with the complicated past and the intriguing present all at once? He didn’t appear to be a man who would be easily handled.

  Clearing her throat, she summoned a cheeky smile. Liam’s wary courtesy made her want to ruffle his feathers. “I’ve never been to Silver Glen before,” she said. “How about buying me a drink in the bar and giving me a quick rundown of the must-sees.” She knew how to flirt. It came naturally to her upbeat personality despite the fact that she lived like a nun most of the time.

  He appeared taken aback by her request. But he recovered rapidly, his gaze scanning her from head to toe with an assessment that was as personal as her deliberate come-on. “I could do that.”

  A nasty thought occurred to her. “I suppose I should ask. Is there a Mrs. Kavanagh?”

  He nodded, sending her heart to her knees. “Yes. My mother. But she goes to bed early, so I doubt she’d want to join us.”

  “So you do have a sense of humor,” she taunted, refusing to admit—even to herself—that she was elated by the confirmation that he was single. Not all married men wore wedding rings, so she hadn’t been sure. “I was beginning to think they removed your funny bone at birth.”

  His lips twitched. “I’m guessing you weren’t spanked enough as a kid.”

  “And there you’d be wrong,” she said, her stomach twisting involuntarily. “Let me shower and I’ll join you in the lobby in half an hour. Does that work for you?”

  He nodded slowly, regarding her with watchful eyes that were a brilliant, intense blue. Combined with his thick, coal-black hair, she began to see the Irish ancestry his name suggested.

  She’d provoked him, and now he regarded her with a narrow-eyed gaze. “I’ll be there, Ms. Chamberlain. And I’ll have the kitchen deliver some special hors d’oeuvres to the bar.”

  “I’ve already had dinner,” she felt compelled to point out.

  “You’ll enjoy these,” he promised. “Nothing too heavy.”

  “Does every guest get this personal treatm
ent?”

  Now, there was no mistaking his interest. “Only the ones who ask,” he said, the words calm and crisp. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  * * *

  Zoe decided not to shower in the dressing room. She hadn’t brought clean clothes with her, so it was easier to dart back up to her room and use the sumptuous facilities that made her feel decadent and a bit naughty. The clothes she’d had on earlier were somewhat travel-weary, so she reached in the armoire for a slinky black knit dress that packed like a dream. It showed every curve of her body, but she had worn it enough times to feel at ease in the sexy garment. Most of a woman’s appearance was dictated by confidence. Since she had learned stage presence long ago, it was easy to project an image, even if she didn’t feel her best inside.

  Timidity and nerves could be disguised. In some of her darker moments—when faced with a bully or an amorous drunk who didn’t want to back off—she’d learned that the only way to prevail was to act like she didn’t give a damn. How many times over the years had she done exactly that? Liam was no doubt a perfectly lovely man, but the ability to appear comfortable when she was uncertain of an outcome would stand her in good stead.

  Shaking off the dark memories, she inserted small gold studs in her earlobes and slipped her feet into black patent high-heeled sandals. The sleeveless dress was fairly modest except for the fact that it hugged her body. She glanced in the mirror and sighed. How long had it been since she shared an elegant meal with a man?

  Most of the time, she was the music in the background of someone else’s life. She had planned it that way...enjoyed it mostly. But tonight, she looked forward to enjoying Liam Kavanagh’s courtly manners. And perhaps slipping past his facade of propriety.

  She spritzed perfume at her ears and wrists and slipped a delicate gold chain around her neck. It hung between her breasts and caught the light. Somewhere, in a safety-deposit box far away, she had a large collection of expensive jewelry...pearls, diamonds, semiprecious stones. But as long as she played the role of gypsy, her baubles would go unclaimed. She didn’t care. Not really. But tonight it would have been nice to gild the lily with a bit of sparkly, feminine bling.

  Taking a deep breath, she tucked her room key and phone into a small bag and headed for the door. Liam Kavanagh was downstairs, and she didn’t intend to keep him waiting.

  Two

  Liam bobbled his glass of wine—splashing a few drops on his hand—when Zoe walked into the bar. All heads swung in her direction, though she appeared oblivious to the interest she drew. Finally, he pinpointed part of her allure. It was the way she moved...graceful, energetic, as if she were always off on a delightful adventure.

  Liam had been standing by the bar talking to the female bartender. With a lift of his hand, he caught Zoe’s attention, hoping his smile appeared more natural than it felt. His limbs tingled and his chest tightened. The physical manifestations of his arousal were disconcerting. He’d had a number of lovers in his adult life. He understood sexual hunger. But the intensity of his response to Zoe rattled him.

  The dress she wore should have been outlawed. Even the harshest of critics would have to concede that it was modest in cut. A shallow scooped neck front and back, plus a hemline that covered her ankles, might have added up to a demure appearance. But the soft, pliable fabric slid over Zoe’s phenomenal body like a second skin.

  He spent a good thirty seconds searching for any evidence that she wore underwear.

  “Hello, Liam,” she said, her voice smooth as cream. “May I call you that?”

  He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “I think you just did.”

  Chuckling softly, she allowed him to seat her at a table for two tucked away in a shadowy corner. The bar was crowded tonight. He was glad. The public setting gave him time to get to know her and to decide if she was any kind of threat. Kissing her later seemed a foregone conclusion, but he would at least pretend to himself that he had a choice.

  She glanced around the room. “Nice place. You and your family have good taste.”

  “Thank you. I’m assuming you won’t be offended if I use your first name as well?”

  “Of course not.”

  “We’ve only just met. Some people prefer a bit of formality.”

  “Not me. Social conventions get in the way.”

  “In the way of what?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Becoming friends, I suppose.”

  He took a sip of his wine, trying to read the subtext, if there was any. Before he could reply, a waiter appeared and set a plate of appetizers in front of them. Small wedges of melon and scallops wrapped in prosciutto had been skewered with toothpicks. He selected one and held it out. “Our chef is spectacular. Try a bite.”

  He’d anticipated an argument. Instead, her lips parted and she leaned forward, allowing him to slide the delicacy between her lush, glossy, pale-pink lips. “Wonderful,” she said, after she chewed and swallowed. “Thank you.”

  The sensuality and simple enjoyment in her response made him shift restlessly in his chair. As she sat back and smiled at him, her wavy golden hair swung around her shoulders. He couldn’t decide if she was trying to be provocative, or if he was overly sensitive to her allure.

  At that moment, his mother appeared at his shoulder. “Hope I’m not interrupting. Please introduce me to this lovely girl,” she said.

  A waiter scurried over with a third chair, and Liam stood until his mother was seated. Maeve Kavanagh had never been able to resist poking her nose into Liam’s affairs, either literal or metaphorical ones. Because he loved her dearly, he tolerated her interference, particularly since he hoped to get her impressions of the mysterious blonde. “Zoe Chamberlain, meet Maeve Kavanagh, my mother.”

  The two women shook hands. Zoe grinned wryly. “I’m happy to meet you. But you’re far too young to be Liam’s mother. I think he gave me the wrong impression when he described you.” She crossed her legs beneath the table, the toe of her shoe brushing the crease in his trouser leg. Was she doing that on purpose?

  Maeve shot him a glance that made the tops of his ears heat. “My firstborn has an odd sense of humor at times. We make allowances for him.” She helped herself to an appetizer. “What brings you to Silver Glen, Ms. Chamberlain? Business or vacation?”

  “Call me Zoe, please. And actually, it’s neither. I had a nasty bout of pneumonia back in March. Spent a few days in the hospital. Since then I’ve been taking things easy. Your beautiful hotel seemed like the perfect place to rest and regain my stamina.”

  “You’ve come to the right spot. We’ll pamper you so well you won’t want to go home.”

  Serious illness explained her fragile appearance. Which led Liam to more questions. He inserted himself into the conversation. “And on that note, where is home, Zoe?”

  For the first time, he saw her good humor waver. A shadow crossed her expressive face. But she recovered quickly. “I was born in Connecticut, but I haven’t lived there in years.”

  “That’s not really an answer.”

  Her jaw tightened. “Am I being interrogated?”

  Maeve Kavanagh’s phone buzzed, signaling the arrival of a text. She glanced at it and grimaced. “Duty calls.” She stood and patted Liam’s shoulder. “Try not to alienate our newest guest, son. I’d like her to stay for a while.”

  In the silence that followed his mother’s departure, Liam stared moodily at his tablemate. “Since when is polite conversation categorized as interrogation?”

  She shrugged. “So far, the conversation has been pretty one-sided. I’m picking up weird vibes from you. Is there a problem you want to talk about?”

  “No.” Yes. “Feel free to cross-examine me if it will make you feel better. My family is an open book. Ask anyone in town. They’ll tell you.”

  “There’s no such thing as a clan without skeletons in the closet. But I’ll take you at your word. Do you have siblings?”

  “More than I care to count. It’s the Irish Catholic
thing. My mother deserves sainthood.”

  “And your father?”

  He couldn’t help the wave of anger that made his entire body go rigid. “He died when I was sixteen.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her response was quiet. In her steady gaze he saw recognition of his turmoil. But he didn’t want anyone psychoanalyzing him. He ate another appetizer, his gaze drifting over the noisy but genteel crowd. “It was a long time ago,” he muttered, and was relieved when she allowed the subject to drop.

  “Did you always know you wanted to run the hotel?”

  “No. In fact, I had dreams of becoming a major-league football player.”

  Her jaw dropped and she laughed out loud.

  He scowled. “What’s so funny?”

  You don’t really seem the type.”

  “I can assure you, Zoe, I’ve played more than my share of high school and college sports.”

  “I wasn’t impugning your athletic ability or your masculinity. It’s just that you seem rather sophisticated for the rough-and-tumble world of professional sports.”

  “Sophistication is nothing more than clothes and demeanor. After my father’s death, it became clear that my studies were headed in a new direction. As soon as I finished an MBA, I returned home to assist my mother.”

  “Did you really have no choice?” It sounded like more than a rhetorical question.

  “No one dragged me back in chains, if that’s what you mean. But I felt the obligation of being the oldest. The others were still growing up. It was me or no one.”

  “I see.”

  His explanation seemed to bother her, though he couldn’t fathom why. “At the risk of sounding nosy, what did you study in college?”

  “I spent four semesters at Vassar. Decided I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life, so I dropped out and joined the Peace Corps.”