neck. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.
She was no longer smiling. He absorbed her like sunlight, taking in every detail of spray beading on her skin, the way her hair clung to the damp spots and painted dark lines that drew his gaze over her skin and snaked like runnels of chocolate syrup. He pulled her closer, lifting her tight against his chest, her softness filling his arms until there was only one thing he could do.
He dumped her in the water.
She came up sputtering and drenched, her hair straggling into her face. He dissolved into helpless laughter. She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You think this is funny?”
He doubled over, gasping for breath. “No, I think it’s hilarious.”
“Oh, it is on .”
That was his only warning before she yanked his ankles right out from under him. By the time he splashed his way to the surface and took a deep draught of air, she was swimming away from him.
He lunged and snared her again, spinning her into his arms with every intention of dunking the little wretch again. But when she wrapped her arms around his neck, her laughter washing over him, he forgot everything. The waves. His promises. Everything but her.
And he kissed her.
She opened to him as if she’d been made for him. They floated together, the ebb and flow of the tide pushing them against each other until she wrapped her legs around his hips and he fell into the weightless warmth that lifted him up more than the waves. She’d wanted to thank him, she’d said—but he was ever grateful to her for this moment, breathless and taut, that made his heart beat like a savage piston.
He held her tight, her naked skin beneath his hands, her mouth an endless well of heat and sweet, bright emotion that he drank of ravenously. Once he’d tasted her, he had to have her.
And he didn’t want to ever let her go.
Chapter Eight
Friday night. Stephanie looked at herself in the mirror and fussed with every tiny wrinkle in her knee-length dress. She’d bought the midnight blue silk because it brought out her eyes, and the matching blue heels promised killer legs. Emphasis on “killer.” She’d probably break a shin in these heels, and take Derek down with her.
Derek. She pressed her fingers against her lips. She could still taste that kiss, and her disappointment that it had been the only one. They’d played in the waves all evening, then sprawled out on their towels to rest. Stephanie had fallen asleep, and woken to find him watching her so closely it was like being kissed all over again—as if he was inside her, touching her without ever needing to lay a finger on her.
Stephanie smiled to herself and collected her purse. Tonight would be perfect. She’d wanted to give something back to Derek—something to thank him for playing along, and helping her out of the downright clusterfuck Rodgers had dropped her into. She owed him more than just a day on the beach. Dinner might cramp her bank account a little, but it would give her a chance to do something for him for a change…and what better way than a night out, immersed in Miami’s rich culture? He’d said his mother was Puerto Rican, and she could only hope he’d enjoy an evening savoring the local Latin flavor. Maybe…just maybe it might bring up good memories of his mother, and help to ease the tension that seemed to plague him any time his family came up.
Oh, who was she kidding? After that kiss…tonight was just an excuse to see him again, even if she knew that made her a fool.
She checked her phone. Ten missed calls from that unlisted number that could only be Aaron, the last one over two hours ago. He’d finally given up. Or was currently controlling a military drone fighter on its way to assassinate Derek.
A knock sounded. She smoothed her dress over her thighs and answered the door with a smile.
“Not dead yet,” she said. “That’s a good sign.”
Amusement flitted through his gaze. “More threats from
She was no longer smiling. He absorbed her like sunlight, taking in every detail of spray beading on her skin, the way her hair clung to the damp spots and painted dark lines that drew his gaze over her skin and snaked like runnels of chocolate syrup. He pulled her closer, lifting her tight against his chest, her softness filling his arms until there was only one thing he could do.
He dumped her in the water.
She came up sputtering and drenched, her hair straggling into her face. He dissolved into helpless laughter. She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You think this is funny?”
He doubled over, gasping for breath. “No, I think it’s hilarious.”
“Oh, it is on .”
That was his only warning before she yanked his ankles right out from under him. By the time he splashed his way to the surface and took a deep draught of air, she was swimming away from him.
He lunged and snared her again, spinning her into his arms with every intention of dunking the little wretch again. But when she wrapped her arms around his neck, her laughter washing over him, he forgot everything. The waves. His promises. Everything but her.
And he kissed her.
She opened to him as if she’d been made for him. They floated together, the ebb and flow of the tide pushing them against each other until she wrapped her legs around his hips and he fell into the weightless warmth that lifted him up more than the waves. She’d wanted to thank him, she’d said—but he was ever grateful to her for this moment, breathless and taut, that made his heart beat like a savage piston.
He held her tight, her naked skin beneath his hands, her mouth an endless well of heat and sweet, bright emotion that he drank of ravenously. Once he’d tasted her, he had to have her.
And he didn’t want to ever let her go.
Chapter Eight
Friday night. Stephanie looked at herself in the mirror and fussed with every tiny wrinkle in her knee-length dress. She’d bought the midnight blue silk because it brought out her eyes, and the matching blue heels promised killer legs. Emphasis on “killer.” She’d probably break a shin in these heels, and take Derek down with her.
Derek. She pressed her fingers against her lips. She could still taste that kiss, and her disappointment that it had been the only one. They’d played in the waves all evening, then sprawled out on their towels to rest. Stephanie had fallen asleep, and woken to find him watching her so closely it was like being kissed all over again—as if he was inside her, touching her without ever needing to lay a finger on her.
Stephanie smiled to herself and collected her purse. Tonight would be perfect. She’d wanted to give something back to Derek—something to thank him for playing along, and helping her out of the downright clusterfuck Rodgers had dropped her into. She owed him more than just a day on the beach. Dinner might cramp her bank account a little, but it would give her a chance to do something for him for a change…and what better way than a night out, immersed in Miami’s rich culture? He’d said his mother was Puerto Rican, and she could only hope he’d enjoy an evening savoring the local Latin flavor. Maybe…just maybe it might bring up good memories of his mother, and help to ease the tension that seemed to plague him any time his family came up.
Oh, who was she kidding? After that kiss…tonight was just an excuse to see him again, even if she knew that made her a fool.
She checked her phone. Ten missed calls from that unlisted number that could only be Aaron, the last one over two hours ago. He’d finally given up. Or was currently controlling a military drone fighter on its way to assassinate Derek.
A knock sounded. She smoothed her dress over her thighs and answered the door with a smile.
“Not dead yet,” she said. “That’s a good sign.”
Amusement flitted through his gaze. “More threats from
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