The Mighty Quinns: Tristan. Kate Hoffmann
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He’d never been quite so intrigued by a woman, and his lawyerly instincts wanted to delve deeper, to find out what she was all about. He’d always been adept at reading women, at navigating past what they wanted him to think in order to get to the truth. Most of the women he’d known were just illusions, a pretty web of carefully crafted lies and wishful fabrications sprinkled with an undercurrent of cool and calculating greed. Once he’d stripped away the pretty wrappings, he lost interest.
But with Lily, there were no wrappings. What she presented to the world was pure and true and he found that endlessly intriguing. She hadn’t tried to turn herself into every male’s fantasy. She wore no makeup, her hair wasn’t straightened or teased or sprayed, and from what he could tell, she hadn’t had a single surgical enhancement.
Instead, her skin was kissed a golden brown by the sun and her nose sprinkled with freckles. Her hairdresser was whatever breeze blew by that day and she chose her fashion not to flatter, but to provide the greatest amount of comfort.
His mind wandered back to the kiss they’d shared. When he kissed a woman, it was usually a prelude to seduction. But with Lily it had been more about curiosity than anything else. She had tried to create distance between them, but he sensed that there was more to her feelings than she revealed. It wasn’t just a simple flirtation that could be fed by a kiss or a caress. She was holding something back.
A glint of light flashed in the woods, drawing Tristan’s attention away from Lily. Through the brush, he saw the figure of a man, hunched down, binoculars trained on her as she swam.
Cursing softly, Tristan emerged from the bushes and started toward the voyeur. But the guy caught sight of him and disappeared into the woods. Tristan didn’t pursue him. It was obviously someone from the colony, and it wouldn’t take Tristan long to figure out who.
As he walked to the shore, he snatched up her discarded dress, then whistled through his teeth. Lily immediately stood to face him, her naked breasts exposed and gleaming in the morning light. Tristan expected her to sink back down into the water, but she didn’t. Instead, she tipped her chin up and stared at him with defiance in her eyes.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to come out of the water and put your clothes on,” he said.
She dipped down and then rose again, tipping her chin up as she stood and smoothing her hair back. “I want to swim,” she said. “I need the exercise.”
“You need to put your clothes on before anyone else comes looking. I just chased off one Peeping Tom, I don’t want to have to chase off any more.”
“Who appointed you my protector?”
“You apparently require one,” Tristan said. “So I guess I’m your guy.”
With a curse, she started toward him. As her naked body began to emerge from the water, Tristan held out her dress and angled his gaze away.
“What’s wrong with you?” she muttered. “Are you going to melt if you catch a glimpse of a naked woman?”
“No,” he said. “I just thought you’d enjoy your privacy.”
“It’s just a naked body,” she said. “The same as any other naked body. I have all the proper parts, so there’s nothing of interest to see.” Lily snatched the dress from his hand, but when he finally turned, she hadn’t bothered to put it on.
With a curse more vivid than hers, Tristan grabbed the dress, shook it out and then held it over her head. He tried to keep from looking as she raised her arms, but the sight was impossible to ignore. A surge of desire washed over him and he fought the temptation to toss the dress aside and strip off his own clothes.
He could almost feel her naked body against his, skin to skin, the soft flesh of her breasts pressed to his chest. His fingers twitched as he imagined running his hands along her torso, smoothing his palms over her hips and backside.
“Are you sure you’re a writer?” she muttered, the dress falling over her until her damp body was once again covered.
Tristan sucked in a sharp breath. Had he given himself away already? “Why?”
“Most of the writers I’ve known haven’t been prudes.”
“Like I said, there was a guy watching you from the shore. He had binoculars. Who can say what his intentions were?”
“That was Bernie.”
“Bernie, the science fiction guy? The one I met this morning.”
Lily leaned over and twisted the water from her dripping hair. “Yes, Bernie. He’s harmless.”
“You don’t mind that he watches you?”
“He hasn’t seen many naked women in his life. He’s kind of shy and I suppose he’s curious.”
Tristan laughed. “So you’re doing him a public service by letting him gawk?”
She shrugged, droplets of water glinting off her dark lashes. “I can’t search the woods every time I want to go for a swim.” Lily started toward the path, her bare feet kicking up sand and dirt until they were covered in both.
Tristan strode after her. “Why did you run away after I kissed you?”
“Because unlike Bernie, you’re not harmless. In fact, I think you’re a very dangerous man, Mr. Quinn James...if that is your real name.”
Tristan bit back a curse. It was clear she was suspicious of him. But how deep did that go? Was it just his romantic interest that made her wary? Or did she suspect the level of his deception? “Lots of writers use pen names,” he said.
“Published writers,” she countered. “Is Quinn your real name?”
“It is,” Tristan lied. He knew what she meant and he also knew he was twisting the truth to suit his own purposes. But in the end, he could freely admit that Quinn was his real name.
“And why did you kiss me? Would you like to try the truth on that question?”
Tristan grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop, spinning her around to face him. He wasn’t sure he could put an answer into words. Right now, standing here with her just inches away in a dress that clung to her wet body, he had an undeniable need to draw her into his arms and put his mouth to hers once again. But that would hardly put her suspicions to rest.
“It seemed like the only thing to do,” Tristan said in a soft voice. “I couldn’t help myself.” He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Do you understand what that kind of beauty does to a man?”
Lily stared at him for a long moment, then laughed. It wasn’t a nervous laugh or even a sarcastic laugh. She clearly considered his statement ridiculous.
‘“Beauty is not found in the face. It’s a light in the heart.”’
“Who told you that?”
“My aunts. It’s from the poet Kahlil Gibran. My aunts raised me to believe that true beauty was found inside me and had nothing to do with my outside appearance.”
“Well, this might shock you, but they were wrong. You’re beautiful on the outside, too, Lily, and it’s about time someone told you that.”
“I’ll alert the media,” she muttered. “News flash—another beautiful woman in the world. I’m sure they’ll want to rush right over and get the story.”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? Your mother or father?”
“I didn’t spend a lot of time with my parents. During the school year, they sent me to a very strict Catholic boarding school where mirrors and all beauty products were banned and conformity was enforced. And in the summer, I lived here with my aunts, where I was encouraged to let my spirit run free.”
“Wow,” Tristan