“Oh, my God.Autographs.We need to find a copy of his signature for you to practice on.”
“Or sprain my writing hand.”
“A fake sprain, you mean.”
“Oh, no, I want a real sprain.Something major to take my mind off my...other problem.”
“Quinn, we’re not going to deliberately injure you.I’m sure Emmy Lou has something with his signature on it.You can practice.I can’t believe I didn’t think of autographs.The trouble is, I keep forgetting that you’re supposed to be Brian Hastings.”
“You do?”He turned to her, and his gaze was steady.“I thought that’s what was going on just now.You had me confused with him.”
“You thought that?”She tightened her grip on her blouse.“You thought I was like those women who rip your clothes off because they think they’re getting a piece of Brian Hastings?You thought I’d parked my brain somewhere?”Shehadparked her brain somewhere, which explained her rash actions, but she’d never for a minute fantasized that Quinn was Brian Hastings.Quinn was powerful enough for any woman’s fantasy.
“Well, we were watching one of his movies, and you were getting turned on.”
“So were you!Does that mean you imagined I was Cheryl Ramsey?”she asked, suddenly worried.
“No.”He propped a hand on the back of the sofa and leaned over her.“It means that the movie inspired me to think of what we might be doing.Power of suggestion.And to be honest, when I’m in the same room with you I need very little of that.This movie was overkill.”
“So it wasn’t seeing that beautiful naked woman that got you worked up?”
“Not by a long shot.It was the thought of seeing this beautiful naked woman.”
Her pulse raced as his gaze traveled over her.“And for the record, it wasn’t seeing Brian Hastings’ butt that got me worked up, either,” she said.
He looked into her eyes.“Thank you.”He gave her a wry smile.“But I would have taken that.I want you so much I don’t care who you think I am if you’ll let me touch you.”
“Me, too,” she murmured.“I don’t care if I’m substituting for a glamorous movie star.”
Desire flared in his eyes.“You’re not.She wouldn’t be a fit substitute for you.”
“That’s sweet.I don’t believe it for a minute, but?—”
He leaned closer, and his hand went to his belt again.“Want proof?”
“Oh, Quinn, I—uh-oh, I hear the truck coming up the road.”
Quinn moved to his end of the sofa and grimaced as his jeans tightened across his crotch.“Better go upstairs and put yourself back together.”
Jo sat up.Under her cushion the remote clicked again, and snow crackled on the television screen.
“Easy.”Quinn gently lowered her feet to the floor.
“Would it help if you stood up?”
“Yeah.I’ll do that in a minute.Go on.”
“I hate to leave you to explain the broken tape to Emmy Lou.”
“I’m a big boy.”
She couldn’t resist.“So you said.”
His gaze was challenging.“Looks like you’ll have to take it on faith.”
“Yep.”Jo couldn’t help glancing at his crotch and remembering what he’d felt like pressed against her.She had some idea of what she was giving up, which didn’t make the sacrifice any easier.A little bit of knowledge could be a terrible thing.She stood on rubbery legs.“I’m sorry I put us in this position,” she said, starting past Quinn.“It won’t happen again.”
He reached up and gripped her thigh.“I’m not sorry,” he said, gazing at her.“I love this position.”
