High Stakes Seduction by Lori Wilde Page A

rope for him.
    They stood in line at the rental kiosk. Amid the middle-aged tourists and their roughhousing kids, Adam looked as out of place as a Hummer in a parking lot full of bicycles.
    Really, what kind of accountant had muscles like that? He should have a different career. A bodyguard maybe. Or a military man. He projected that kind of presence. A strong man you could count on. Sure, there was something efficient about him, organized, but he didn’t look like the type to sit at a desk all day and crunch numbers.
    Once he’d rented the surfboard, she led the way to the beach and even though she was in charge, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one guiding things. As if nothing was accidental and he’d orchestrated everything. Where was this feeling coming from?
    “What now?” he asked.
    “First we wax our boards. You can borrow some of my wax.”
    “What’s the wax for?”
    “For traction, so your feet can grip the board. Here, watch me.” She laid her board in the sand, pulled a small tin of wax from her beach bag and got down on her knees. Using a circular motion, she demonstrated how to wax it up. “Since you’re a beginner, go ahead and wax three-quarters up the length of your board.”
    He dropped to the sand beside her. He was so close she could smell him. Her nostrils twitched. Damn but he smelled good.
    “What next?” he asked when they were finished.
    “Stand up.” She got to her feet and he followed suit.
    “Okay, now wh—” His words were cut off as Eva shoved him in the middle of the back and he stuck out his left foot to catch himself.
    “Hey!” Adam scowled. “What did you do that for?”
    “Natural footed.”
    “Huh?”
    “I gave you a little shove to see which foot you’d lead with.”
    “A little warning would have been nice.”
    “If I’d warned you, it wouldn’t have worked. You would have been thinking about which foot to put first. Determining which foot is dominant requires instinct.”
    He looked skeptical. “So I’m natural footed, huh?”
    “Yes, you lead with your left foot.”
    “What does that tell me?”
    “Where you’ll position your feet on the board. You’ll put your left foot forward for greater balance.”
    “Are you natural footed?”
    “Nope. I’m a screw.”
    “Um… screw? ” Adam said, his face reddening.
    He looked so adorably embarrassed that the mischievous imp inside her wanted to chant “screw, screw, screw” just to see what he would do. Did suggestive words fluster him that much? But common sense prevailed and she offered the simple explanation. “Screw-footed, sometimes called goofy-footed after a certain cartoon character who surfed with his right foot forward. Another one of my flaws if you’re keeping count. Most people are natural footed.”
    “Oh.” His eyes were on hers, dark and watchful and… lusty.
    “Are you sure you’re an accountant?”
    “What?” His eyebrows shot up on his forehead and his mouth rounded.
    “Nothing.” She waved a hand. “Just an odd thought that passed through my head.”
    “Do you often express the odd thoughts that pass through your head?”
    “All the time.” She shook her head, clicked her tongue. “Terrible character flaw.”
    “Honesty isn’t a flaw.”
    “Ah, so that’s what it’s called,” she teased.
    The gleam in his eyes sharpened. “Many people don’t appreciate honesty.”
    “But you do?”
    “I do.”
    “Even when I say ‘screw’?” She flirted, knowing she was treading in dangerous territory because she liked the lusty way he was looking at her.
    She also liked the way he made her shiver and how her pulse sped up whenever he touched her. She liked how she felt when she was around him—stimulated, fascinated and intrigued. He made her feel special.
    He was standing so close, their surfboards side by side in the sand at their feet, their knees almost touching. She could feel the tension in his body. Feel a corresponding tension growing inside