her legs
against the breaking waves, tossing her long braid over her
shoulder. He looked good in his own clothes, and the sight of him
had a better-than-average effect on her libido, surprising her once
again. She detached herself from the sinking feeling in the pit of
her stomach and tried to figure out how he did that to her. If she
could put her finger on it, she could work against it. A homeless
waif was the last person she wanted to get involved with.
“Hello,” she said, wiping the salt water off
her face and definitely not meeting those soft brown eyes with the
light shining in them.
“Hi.” He bent his head to look up at her as
he draped the towel around her shoulders. He held on to it for a
minute to wrap her up, tucking one corner in next to her
collarbone, his fingers brushing against her damp skin.
Anna absolutely refused to acknowledge the
touch, pulling away from him and rubbing the terry cloth on her
arms. “How did you find me?”
“Your boyfriend,” he said, with just the
slightest bit of question in his voice.
“Boyfriend?” She threw him a puzzled frown,
and then, seeing a ray of hope sparkle in his eyes, added with a
sly smile, “Which one?”
“The old one,” he drawled, emphasizing old.
“The honcho at the casino with the gray in his hair and the eyes
like yours.”
“Oh, that boyfriend.” She nodded before
drying her face on the towel. “That particular boyfriend also
happens to be my brother, St. John. He owns Runner’s Cay.”
“Oh.” A slow grin spread across Mitch’s lean
face as he shoved his thumbs into his front pockets and rocked back
on his bare heels. “What kind of name is Sinjin? Oriental?”
“No. English. It’s pronounced Sinjin, but
it’s spelled St. John.” She tied the towel around her waist. “Come
on up to the house and I’ll fill you in on the game plan.”
Anna undid her braid, shaking out the wet
mass, as they walked up the beach. Mitch pulled a hand out of his
pocket and reached over to help her, casually threading his fingers
through the silky tresses at the nape of her neck, lifting and
separating them as he matched his long-legged stride to hers.
She didn’t take offense at his gesture. He
did it the way an old friend would, helpfully. He sure was a
toucher, she thought, and he sure was easy to be with—except for
the twinges of excitement she felt at all those touches. But she
could work around those. Being attracted to someone and doing
something about it were two completely different animals.
They reached the deck, and Anna started to
toss her towel on a chair, but Mitch caught it in midair and threw
it over his shoulder.
“I think we can take Dumonde for everything
he’s got,” she said, walking over to a shower head installed on the
back of the house. “Including your ranch.” She stepped under the
shower and pulled the chain, unleashing a wall of fresh water to
wash away the salt.
“How’s that?” Mitch asked, taking the chain
out of her hand and holding it for her.
Water splashed on his jeans, and one sandy,
bare foot rested in a growing puddle. His other foot was propped
against the wall, his body totally relaxed as he leaned on the
white wooden planks.
Anna didn’t reply. Instead she closed her
eyes and turned her face up into the spray, stretching her arms
above her head to scrub her hair. The next thing she knew, a warm
mouth was covering hers and the sinking feeling she’d felt before
turned into a full-scale meltdown. Another surprise from the
scout.
The water kept coming and so did his
kiss—warm, delicious, insistent, caressing her lips and turning her
inside out. Her arms dropped to his shoulders in slow motion as his
tongue slipped inside her mouth ever so slowly, savoring every step
of the way.
Anna was drowning in water and desire, both
of them running down her body in lazy, undulating waves, washing
away her resistance. Then the water stopped and desire took over as
his hands encircled her waist and
against the breaking waves, tossing her long braid over her
shoulder. He looked good in his own clothes, and the sight of him
had a better-than-average effect on her libido, surprising her once
again. She detached herself from the sinking feeling in the pit of
her stomach and tried to figure out how he did that to her. If she
could put her finger on it, she could work against it. A homeless
waif was the last person she wanted to get involved with.
“Hello,” she said, wiping the salt water off
her face and definitely not meeting those soft brown eyes with the
light shining in them.
“Hi.” He bent his head to look up at her as
he draped the towel around her shoulders. He held on to it for a
minute to wrap her up, tucking one corner in next to her
collarbone, his fingers brushing against her damp skin.
Anna absolutely refused to acknowledge the
touch, pulling away from him and rubbing the terry cloth on her
arms. “How did you find me?”
“Your boyfriend,” he said, with just the
slightest bit of question in his voice.
“Boyfriend?” She threw him a puzzled frown,
and then, seeing a ray of hope sparkle in his eyes, added with a
sly smile, “Which one?”
“The old one,” he drawled, emphasizing old.
“The honcho at the casino with the gray in his hair and the eyes
like yours.”
“Oh, that boyfriend.” She nodded before
drying her face on the towel. “That particular boyfriend also
happens to be my brother, St. John. He owns Runner’s Cay.”
“Oh.” A slow grin spread across Mitch’s lean
face as he shoved his thumbs into his front pockets and rocked back
on his bare heels. “What kind of name is Sinjin? Oriental?”
“No. English. It’s pronounced Sinjin, but
it’s spelled St. John.” She tied the towel around her waist. “Come
on up to the house and I’ll fill you in on the game plan.”
Anna undid her braid, shaking out the wet
mass, as they walked up the beach. Mitch pulled a hand out of his
pocket and reached over to help her, casually threading his fingers
through the silky tresses at the nape of her neck, lifting and
separating them as he matched his long-legged stride to hers.
She didn’t take offense at his gesture. He
did it the way an old friend would, helpfully. He sure was a
toucher, she thought, and he sure was easy to be with—except for
the twinges of excitement she felt at all those touches. But she
could work around those. Being attracted to someone and doing
something about it were two completely different animals.
They reached the deck, and Anna started to
toss her towel on a chair, but Mitch caught it in midair and threw
it over his shoulder.
“I think we can take Dumonde for everything
he’s got,” she said, walking over to a shower head installed on the
back of the house. “Including your ranch.” She stepped under the
shower and pulled the chain, unleashing a wall of fresh water to
wash away the salt.
“How’s that?” Mitch asked, taking the chain
out of her hand and holding it for her.
Water splashed on his jeans, and one sandy,
bare foot rested in a growing puddle. His other foot was propped
against the wall, his body totally relaxed as he leaned on the
white wooden planks.
Anna didn’t reply. Instead she closed her
eyes and turned her face up into the spray, stretching her arms
above her head to scrub her hair. The next thing she knew, a warm
mouth was covering hers and the sinking feeling she’d felt before
turned into a full-scale meltdown. Another surprise from the
scout.
The water kept coming and so did his
kiss—warm, delicious, insistent, caressing her lips and turning her
inside out. Her arms dropped to his shoulders in slow motion as his
tongue slipped inside her mouth ever so slowly, savoring every step
of the way.
Anna was drowning in water and desire, both
of them running down her body in lazy, undulating waves, washing
away her resistance. Then the water stopped and desire took over as
his hands encircled her waist and
Similar Books
