Mission: Seduction by Candace Havens

really couldn’t give a damn about the dress. It was the woman inside that had him at full attention. Every nerve in his body was tuned in to her. That bow mouth with the full lips. Her fingers stroking the silky dress fabric. Even the way her right foot turned in, as though a thread of uncertainty coiled through her.
    He had to stop looking at her or he’d slip that pretty dress off and say to hell with her friends at the bar. Exploring her curves until he memorized every dip and swell would be so much more fun. Clearing his throat, he rubbed the towel against his face.
    â€œLet me finish getting dressed.” He pivoted on a heel. Sometime between shaving and her arrival, the twinge in his hip diminished. His body throbbed but with an entirely exquisite kind of pain.
    He dropped the towel on the edge of the sink and paused. He was falling for her. He stood right on the edge of a sandbar, and she was the fifteen-to-thirty-foot swells sweeping in to topple him.
    His leg ached at the memory, but his spine stiffened. Life kept throwing these top-heavy waves at him, but he hadn’t drowned yet.
    â€œRafe?” Her voice beckoned from the other room.
    Snatching his shirt from the hook by the door, he pulled it on and strolled back out. Her grin kindled a new fire in his blood. “I’m ready.”
    He only hoped that was true.

11
    K ELLY SURVEYED THE Bay Breeze as she and Rafe walked into the busy nightspot. A few months ago, after a particularly nasty tropical storm, the wildly successful club, which was big with the locals, had been ripped apart. As she scanned the rough-hewn wood tables and the teak bar that had remained standing for more than fifty years, it was hard to remember the decimation.
    Everyone in the small community had pitched in to help rebuild their favorite bar. It had taken less than a week.
    She loved this little slice of tropical heaven. The food came grilled, the alcohol icy and the music eclectic. Rafe’s bemused expression absorbed everything from the band on the makeshift stage to the pair of waiters in khaki shorts and no shirts.
    At the crowded tables sat young couples, old couples and a profusion of Kelly’s friends, who shouted out greetings as she and Rafe moved through the throng to find a spot at the bar. “Interesting place,” he said.
    â€œIt’s one of the best bars in the world.” She ordered a drink and bounced playfully to the rhythm of the drums. It was an obscure song that Adrien’s band played, a combination of tribal beat and smoky jazz. “All the locals come here and it’s like a big party every night.”
    Rafe’s gaze roamed the room. But each time he caught her studying him, there was no mistaking the heat in his eyes.
    Maybe her mom did know what made men drool.
    The looks he gave her made her feel powerful and sexy. Despite the cool breeze ruffling the torches on the deck, the air inside the club was stuffy.
    â€œI should apologize for my mother, again. I wasn’t expecting her.” Like anyone really planned for sudden disaster, but Kelly’s mob often blew in like a tropical squall, sucking out the sunlight and lashing the beach with furious swells. At least when she had some warning she could surf the waves ahead of time.
    â€œI didn’t realize who she was at first, but I guess it makes sense, given Mimi’s choice of profession. Did you ever consider modeling?”
    He’d gotten a beer and every time his lips touched the top of his bottle she imagined them against her skin. “No.” The strangled word barely made it past the lump of emotion in her throat. Swallowing hard, she grabbed her drink just to keep her hands busy and away from him. “I liked surfing and there are some modeling gigs you can get with that. As for hours and hours of walking, posing and worrying about whether I’m tan enough or too tan? Nah. That and I like real food. Given what I do, I get to eat