Page 37 of Patio Lanterns

She smoothed her hands up his chest. “You know, Rick, you just may be the sweetest, most thoughtful man I’ve ever met. And that only makes me want you more.”

He grasped her wrists. “Look, it’s not just about us. Other people won’t understand.”

She smiled up at him. “Do you really think I give a shit about what other people think?”

“I think you definitely give a shit about what Lark thinks, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to get into your head like she does,” he said, releasing her hands. “What was that celebration of life party you just planned on the spur of the moment? Was that just to piss her off?”

Robin smiled while her finger drew a bullseye around Rick’s nipple through his shirt. “It’s definitely a bonus.”

Rick inhaled deeply, his chest inflating with the courage he needed to ask his next question and the strength to brace himself for whatever came back in response. “Do you really want to be with me, Robin? Or do you just like the shock value of being with me because you know Lark would lose her shit?”

Her eyes narrowed. “This has nothing to do with Lark. She wasn’t there last night. Hell, she wasn’t even part of this equation until you made her one.”

He sighed. “You know, Robin, you could probably get her off your back if you just went out with Aidan.”

“But I don’t want Aidan. I want you.”

“Goddammit, I want you too,” he growled back, unable to keep the words from tumbling out. His heart thumped quicker. “Why can’t you see that you deserve so much more, Robin? You’re young and beautiful, and you have your whole life ahead of you.”

“And yet, the only thing I want is standing right in front of me,” she breathed.

She reached up and pulled him down to her lips, fusing their mouths with heated urgency. As she pressed herself to him, burying her fingers in his hair, he succumbed to a deeply sensual, soulful kiss that melted his resolve until he surrendered the fight. She had extremely persuasive lips. He’d never known any woman whose raw sexuality overpowered him so easily.

“Dream about me tonight?” she whispered against his lips. “Because I’ll be dreaming of you. And when I touch myself, it’ll be your fingers, your lips, and your cock that make me come.”

14

Robin

Please join the family of Micki Pelletierfor a celebration of her life

Friday at 8:00 p.m.

Blue Canoe Cottage

Robin nudged Dove, sitting on the couch next to her. “I’m making an event flyer to deliver around the neighbourhood. What else do you suggest?”

Dove peeked at the screen. “Frankly, a little more pizazz. It doesn’t exactly pop.”

“Gee, that’s helpful,” Robin said, giving her a side-eye. “I thought you were good at throwing parties.”

Dove tipped her head. “You really have no idea what I do for a living, do you?”

Robin shrugged. “I know you go to a lot of fancy parties with fat cats in penguin suits.”

“I happen to attend several black-tie galas a year because that’s where potential clients are. You’re only as good as your client list in my line of work.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

Dove sighed. “I’m a luxury concierge. I provide services that enhance and define my clients’ elite lifestyles. Book their charters, balance their schedules, manage appointments and reservations, facilitate club memberships, and offer personal shopping to source rare or premium items.”

Robin sneered. “Luxury concierge? There’s no way that’s even a real job.”

“Well, it is, and I assure you, dear sister, I am exceptionally good at it,” Dove said. “Until recently, I’ve never even lost a client.”

“Uh-oh. Did Skipper’s yacht accidentally cross into the Bermuda Triangle?”

“Very funny. I didn’t literally lose a client. But one was stolen out from under me by a devious competitor. Shandy Mundy.” Dove spat out her rival’s name like it was a ghost pepper burning a hole in her tongue. “Gah, I despise her.”

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