The Price of Pleasure by Kresley Cole

sigh.
    When he caught another fish, Tori impatiently marshaled her thoughts, determined to win. They were tied when her arms finally gave out completely. Yet he continued, spear raised, waiting, waiting. The fish must be huge for him to take so much time with it. She shrugged. Though she’d have one fewer overall hers were still larger. She took pleasure in knowing they were competing by total pounds, not quantity. Even if he wasn’t aware of that fact.
    She waded farther up the inlet where the shaded water was fresher, and undressed. She washed her body, scrubbed her clothing and wrung the water from it, then dressed and finger-combed her hair until it was nearly dry.
    When she returned, she saw him still poised over the fish, following at a glacial speed. She perched on a palm, drumming her cleaned nails on its trunk, piping her lip out to blow a strand of hair from her face.
    Enough of this. She scooped up a rock on her way to the water, and tossed it right in front of him.

Nine
    W ill. That’s what would defeat this monster of a fish. Every time Grant tensed to launch his spear, the thing uncannily moved. But he was a patient man and could wait out the prey for hours if necessary. His arm ached from holding the spear aloft for so long, but he was dogged. And it would be worth—
    Water splashed up to his face and the fish darted away, both in recoil to the huge rock sinking before his feet. Teeth clenched, he looked to the edge of the shade, where Victoria gave him a triumphant smirk. With a growl, he hurled the spear like a javelin at the waterline, where it plunged upright, then strode toward her. With every step he took, her chin notched up higher. When he stood directly in front of her and gave her a look that had cowed convict sailors, she didn’t even flinch. She wasn’t afraid of him or intimidated by him. Perhaps she should be.
    Without a word, he clasped her in his arms and started for the water.
    â€œNo! Sutherland,” she cried. “I’m warm and dry! Don’t!”
    Nothing could stop him from dumping her in. Except at the last second, she went from beating on his chest to a stranglehold behind his neck. Just as he hoisted her away, she pulled him down with her.
    He shot past the surface, coughing water, close to laughing.
    She was sputtering, pushing hair from her face. “You bastard! You’ll regret that….” She trailed off as she looked down at her chest, no doubt following his gaze. Her shirt was twisted and half torn off her shoulder, revealing the top of one breast. The sandy fabric clung to the other. She plucked the shirt from her chest, but it insistently molded back to display her hardened nipples. The sight of them, the thought of touching her, his mouth on her…Explosive want burned inside him.
    His hands clenched as he sorted through the thoughts and impulses wracking him. All morning he’d watched her, eyes locked on her long legs or her nearly bare breasts. The taut flare of her backside had nearly brought him to his knees. He would’ve given his life, he was sure of it, to hold her there, to heft the curves and fit his fingers around her flesh. He’d worked himself to a frenzy in an effort to quell the near constant erection he battled.
    Now she stood before him as though unclothed. He wondered if he affected her as she did him. Her breaths were shallow and her eyes were wide, raking over his chest and lower, boldly, appraisingly.
    He thought, in this brief sliver of time, that she might welcome his kiss, might let him brush her shirt from her shoulders and run his hands over her breasts. Victoria, unclothed, in the water with me.
    He made some rough noise in his throat, then hauled himself to the bank. Never slowing, he snatched up his boots and shirt and stormed away. He paced furiously up and down the glaring white beach, only stopping to fling a shell or imagine his ship at anchor. Before he’d found her, he’d