Measure of a Man Page 9

  “But—”

  “Good night, Michael.” Joey hung up and then rolled over in bed.

  * * *

  Under normal circumstances, a carriage ride through Central Park at one in the morning would have sounded a little suicidal to Peyton. However, taking the ride with Lincoln Carver had to be the most romantic thing she’d ever done.

  “It’s a full moon,” Lincoln said, pointing up at the sky.

  Her gaze followed his finger and settled on the large glossy orb hovering above them. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Just like you,” he whispered.

  She cuddled closer, this time suppressing her girlish giggle. “It doesn’t look so far away, does it?”

  “No. It looks like you could just reach out and touch it,” he agreed. His arm squeezed around her. “Would you like for me to lasso the moon for you?”

  Peyton laughed. “And what would I do with my very own ball of dirt?”

  “Hey, it was supposed to be romantic—lasso the moon, catch a falling star—you know, that sort of thing.” He laughed along with her. “You wouldn’t like any of that?”

  Their eyes met through the glimmer of moonlight as she whispered, “I would much more prefer it if you would just kiss me again.”

  His deep, grooved dimples made another appearance. “A kiss? Is that all?”

  When her gaze lowered to his full lips, she was hypnotized. “It’ll do for now.”

  Lincoln’s head descended in a slow arch and Peyton lifted her chin so she could meet him halfway. Nothing tasted as good as he did, nothing felt as liberating or as orgasmic as being wrapped in his embrace.

  It can’t be this easy, the devil on her shoulder whispered. However, Peyton had a hard time listening. She didn’t want to think this through and she didn’t want to question the emotions she was feeling.

  And most importantly, she didn’t want the night to end.

  When their lips parted, Lincoln peppered a few extra kisses along her face and neck. She sighed with contentment and inched even closer. With her head pressed against his chest, she listened to the soft, melodious clicking of the horse trotting and enjoyed the caress of the early morning breeze.

  “You know, this has turned out to be a pretty good night,” she said. Her gaze once again centered on the full moon. “Maybe I was a little out of line when I attacked you this morning. You know, that whole bit about you being arrogant and not my type.”

  She drew a breath and a smile fluttered to her lips. “I hate to think I’ve turned into one of those bitter women who don’t realize it.” She chuckled. “What I’m saying is…I wonder if we can continue tonight back at your hotel.”

  When Lincoln didn’t respond, she panicked and rushed on. “I don’t mean to sound forward or anything and I assure you I don’t normally do this, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t feel this certain attraction to you…and I think that you feel it, too.”

  No answer.

  Suddenly feeling foolish, Peyton pried herself out of his arms. “Just forget it. Maybe we should just head on back. It’s getting pretty late.”

  Silence.

  Frowning, Peyton glanced over at him and was stunned speechless when she at last discovered that Lincoln was sound asleep.

  Chapter 12

  Lincoln was out like a log.

  Peyton tried everything to wake him, but was unable to wrest more than a few moans. “I don’t believe this,” she said, panting. Once she caught her breath, she reviewed her silly speech and laughed at the situation.

  What was she supposed to do now? She’d no idea which hotel he was staying at, and it no longer seemed like a good idea to be roaming around Central Park at this ungodly hour.

  “Driver, could you please take us to the Palace Hotel? I’ll pay extra.”

  The man turned around and tipped his top hat to her.

  Rolling her eyes and shaking her head at the heavens, Peyton asked why such things always seemed to happen to her. However, she couldn’t quite make herself feel mad about the situation. Lincoln warned her he had mixed alcohol with his pain medication. However, as far as dating went, this night deserved a place in the record books.

  At the Palace, it took three bellboys and one doorman to carry Lincoln up to Peyton’s suite. When they arrived, they placed her large date on a Victorian sofa in the suite’s living room.

  She tipped the men generously, and then closed the door behind them. When she turned around, Joey bolted from the bedroom through the French doors.

  “It’s about time you made it back. Do you know what time— Ohmigosh,” she gasped when her gaze landed on Lincoln. She covered her scantily clad body with her hands and raced back through the doors. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company,” she cried out.

  Peyton laughed and wished she’d caught that performance on video. “It’s okay,” she said. “He’s out cold.” She removed Lincoln’s jacket from her shoulder and draped it over a high-back chair.

  The French doors slid open again and Joey peeked out. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He’s my date.” Peyton kicked off her shoes and headed over to the sofa.

  Joey opened the door farther and timidly stepped through. This time she wore a gold satin robe. “Well, what the hell is wrong with him? What did you do?”

  “Me?” Peyton sat on the end of the sofa and began removing Lincoln’s shoes. “What makes you think I did something to him?”

  “I don’t know. The fact that he looks comatose might have something to do with it.” Joey reached them and peered down at him. “You didn’t slip something into his drink, did you? That’s illegal, you know.”

  “Will you relax? I didn’t do anything. He mixed some type of painkillers with alcohol and it knocked him out.” She eased off one of his socks.

  “Damn,” Joey gasped. “That’s a big foot.” Her eyes sparkled as they lifted and met Peyton’s. “You know what they say about a man with big feet.”

  “Can it, Joey.” She reached for his other leg. “I can do without the commentary.”

  “Hey, isn’t he the guy you were freakin’ at the club the other night?”

  “The one and only.”

  “He was your date— He’s your new artist?”

  “I haven’t decided if I’m going to represent him yet.” Peyton stood and planted her hands on her hips as she stared down at him. He was actually adorable while he slept. Not to mention, he didn’t snore. That was a major plus.

  “Here, help me.” Peyton leaned over and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Seconds later, they peeled him out of it.

  “Damn, is it getting hot in here?” Joey asked, fanning herself.

  One look at Lincoln’s muscled chest and Peyton felt the heat, as well.

  “Do you think there’s any more where he comes from?” Joey asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m starting to think he’s one of a kind.” She reached for his belt. “Help me. No one sleeps in Armani.”

  “All right, this is where I draw the line.” Joey held up her hands as she turned toward the French doors. “You’re more than welcome to see your new boyfriend naked, I’m turning in.”

  “Come back here,” Peyton huffed. “I need your help.”

  “Nope.” Joey smirked. “But I will leave with a few pearls of wisdom. Date rape is not the road you want to go down. Good night.” She closed the doors.

  “Smart-ass.” Peyton rolled her
eyes, and then refocused her attention on the man lying unconscious on the sofa. It took her more than twenty minutes to get him out of his pants and the one question she had all night was answered: he was a boxers man.

  Housekeeping delivered an extra set of clean sheets, and in no time she had him all tucked in for the night. But before she retired, she found herself studying him while he slept.

  He actually appeared to be grinning. Who was he thinking about? And were there legions of women waiting for him to return home?

  She wouldn’t blame them. He was, hands down, the best kisser she’d ever had. Her gaze traced his face and then settled on his full lips. She remembered their intoxicating taste.

  Peyton glanced at the French doors.

  Temptation tugged at her and she took another glance at that beautiful mouth. What would it hurt?

  She looked at the door again while her knees folded. Just one little kiss. Surely, that would be okay.

  Her knees touched the carpet, while her eyes remained locked on his lips. “Well, Mr. Carver, I had a wonderful evening. Right up to the point where you fell asleep on me.” She smiled. “Even then, you made it a night I’ll never forget. But I have to tell you…” She leaned in close. “You passed up on an opportunity for us to make beautiful music together.”

  As if he’d heard her, Lincoln sighed and snuggled deeper into the sheets.

  “I would have rocked your world,” she whispered. “You see, I do this amazing thing with my hips.” Another long moan escaped him and a wider smile eased across her lips. She soaked in every detail of his features, determined not to forget a single line or plane that made him such a beautiful specimen.

  “I would love to learn whatever tricks you have in your repertoire. Something tells me that kissing you is just the tip of the iceberg.” She brushed the back of her hand along the side of his cheek. So soft.

  “Good night, Lincoln.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. To her amazement, Peyton felt him return the kiss. She closed her eyes and allowed her world to spin out of control. If this was wrong, Lord, she didn’t want to be right.

  All too soon, the kiss ended and Lincoln drifted back to sleep.

  Smiling, she stood up and turned off all the lights before she joined Joey behind the French doors. She tiptoed around quietly while she undressed.

  Joey’s sigh filled the room. “You’re humming.”

  Peyton covered her mouth and then just as quickly lowered her hand. “Sorry,” she said, and then climbed into bed still feeling giddy as a schoolgirl.

  “By the way,” Joey whispered, “I’m glad you finally kissed him.”

  Chapter 13

  Yards of sapphire swirled inside Lincoln’s head as well as the sound of an angel’s laughter. He moaned as he stretched his body out as far as it would go before it snapped back contently beneath the covers.

  “What a night, what a night,” he groaned, but as he tried to recall specific details, he smacked into a mental roadblock.

  There was the museum, the restaurant—Flex! His eyes bolted open. P.J. is Peyton Adams—Flex’s sister. He sat up, but was immediately stunned by his surroundings. “Where in the hell am I?” He glanced around again, but nothing about the elaborate room triggered a memory.

  “Oh, good morning. You’re finally up.”

  Lincoln’s head swiveled toward the French doors where Peyton sauntered through in a short satin robe. Those incredible legs strolled forward and hypnotized him on the spot.

  “I was just about to make some coffee. Do you want some?”

  What the hell happened last night? “I…huh?” He jumped, but was shocked to discover he was in his boxers. He fell back onto the sofa and scrambled to cover himself again. No, I didn’t. I didn’t sleep with my buddy’s sister.

  Peyton frowned. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, fine.” He pulled the sheet up to his chin. “What, uh, where—what exactly happened last night?”

  Her eyes sparkled as her lips curled up. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember?”

  One of her hands drifted seductively in front of her robe and Lincoln’s gaze followed its slow descent to the belt of her robe. Couldn’t she do something with her hips? As a lump swelled in his throat, he performed a series of coughs to try and clear it, but nothing was working.

  “Did we, uh, you know—”

  “Have sex?” she finished for him and lowered herself onto the cushion next to him.

  Not trusting himself to speak, Lincoln bobbed his head and tensed in anticipation of her answer.

  But she didn’t respond; instead her smile slid wider and she took her time crossing her sleek, toned legs.

  “I think my, uh…medication and that champagne finally caught up with me and…what happened?”

  Peyton rolled her eyes. “C’mon, don’t play with me. You told me last night was the best night of your life.”

  “Oh, he’s finally up?”

  Lincoln’s gaze jerked to another beauty standing in front of the French doors. She looked a lot like Peyton, maybe a few inches taller, and wore a short, cropped hairdo. The disturbing fact was that she, too, wore only a satin robe.

  “So how did you sleep, lover boy?”

  “You do remember Joey, don’t you” Peyton asked.

  Lincoln felt light-headed. Surely, he didn’t…wouldn’t…not both of them.

  “I don’t think he remembers you, Joey.” Peyton jabbed her fists into her hips.

  Meanwhile, Joey fluttered a hand across her heart. “You have to be kidding me. And after all we did for him last night?”

  “Goes to show you can never judge a book by its cover.”

  “Wait, wait.” Lincoln stood up, but held the sheet around his body. “I apologize, ladies. It doesn’t sound like I was at all myself last night. And I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I had that glass of champagne. Had I known it would produce this sort of side effect—”

  “Lincoln—”

  “I mean, not that any man wouldn’t love to be with such beautiful women—”

  “Linc—”

  “It’s just that…I don’t usually—”

  “Lincoln, nothing happened,” Peyton blurted out.

  He blinked, straightened and then turned his confused expression toward Peyton. “But you just said—”

  “April fools.” She shrugged, and then laughed.

  Joey joined in. “You should’ve seen your face. Priceless.” She disappeared behind the French doors again.

  Peyton stood and shrugged her shoulders. “I hope you’re not mad, but I figured I owed you one for passing out on me last night.”

  Relieved beyond belief, Lincoln lowered himself back onto the sofa. “Oh, thank God.” He exhaled and glanced around. “You wouldn’t happen to know where my clothes are?”

  “You’re leaving?”

  He clutched his sheet and noticed her wounded expression. “Well, I do…need to be heading back. I have some other things I need to take care of before I catch my flight tonight.”

  “You’re going back to Atlanta tonight?”

  “Afraid so,” he whispered. He didn’t want to go, but there were definitely some things he needed to clear with Flex before he could ever consider pursuing anything with Peyton.

  “I see.” She broke eye contact and braided her hands together. “Well, it was certainly interesting meeting you.”

  Lincoln didn’t want to end things with Peyton. He just wante
d to get a permission slip first. “You’re acting as if this is goodbye.”

  She folded her arms and struggled to put on a professional face. “Oh, yeah. You’re still looking for an agent.”

  He unwrapped the sheet from his body and stood before her in his boxers. “Yes. I still need an agent, but I don’t think it’s a wise idea that you and I work together.”

  “Why? I thought we’ve already been through this. I’m more than capable of separating business from my personal life.”

  “I believe you,” Lincoln said simply, and closed the small distance between them. “But it’s not you I’m worried about.”

  When his meaning dawned on Peyton, her cheeks darkened. He cupped her chin and tilted it up so their gazes met. “So, it’s not goodbye, right?”

  She swallowed and slowly shook her head.

  “Good.” He leaned forward and kissed her, but then he smiled against her lips at the sound of her gentle sigh. Flex was right again. Women who were tough as nails on the outside were soft and warm on the inside.

  When her arms glided around his shoulders, Lincoln hardened at the feel of her breasts against his chest. He groaned and slid his hands down her curvy body.

  “I see you two need to be alone.”

  Joey’s interruption shattered the moment. Peyton and Lincoln jumped guiltily away from each other.

  Peyton clutched at her robe. “We were, uh—”

  “Uh, yeah, I was just leaving.” Lincoln glanced around and spotted his clothes folded in a chair.

  “No need. I’m heading out,” Joey said, waltzing to the door. She had already dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a tight T-shirt with the slogan got milk written across it.

  Lincoln panicked. If he was left alone with Peyton, it would be too late to clear things with Flex. “I have to go, too.” He snatched up his pants and hobbled while he put them on.

  “You know, I can order up some breakfast,” Peyton offered.

  “Oh, no. That won’t be necessary.” He slid on his shirt but didn’t bother buttoning it. Shoes went on next, while socks were stuffed into his pockets.