High Stakes Seduction (10 page)

“Don’t worry about it. You care too much about what people think of you.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “Is it true?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to worry about impressing me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m already impressed.” She parked the Jeep in a beachside parking area. “C’mon, let’s surf.”

“Let me carry that for you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own surfboard.” She swung away from him.

“It looks heavy.”

“I’ve been surfing for ten years. I’ve developed the muscles for it.”

“I feel like a lame ass letting you do the heavy lifting.”

“Down, Sir Galahad. You’re in California now. Girls carry their own surfboards all the time. Besides, you’ll soon have your own to carry.”

He said nothing, but she could tell from the expression in his eyes he still didn’t like it. This one had a chivalrous streak she found far too appealing. In the past, she had depended too much on men, no doubt a legacy from her mother. But when that tendency had gotten her into some complicated relationships with men who tried to tell her what to do, she’d shrugged off that dependency and taken control of her life.

She liked what she had going now, running her own business teaching yoga. An apartment only two miles from an awesome beach where she could surf three or four times a week. She spent her time on things she loved. Her world was utterly in balance.

Well, except for the fact that she had certain physical needs that weren’t being met, but you couldn’t have everything, right?

Her gaze strayed to Adam. He looked incredible in spite of those silly Hawaiian shorts. And his muscles in that T-shirt—well,
wow.
He wasn’t muscle-bound by any means—just the right amount of bulges and sinew, all lean and hearty.

“First stop we have to get you a wet suit. There’s a surf shop on the beach. Let’s hit it.” She locked up her surfboard on a rack outside the shop for that purpose and crooked a finger, motioning him inside.

They entered the surf shop. The lovely smell of waxed boards greeted them. The store was packed with shirtless, barefooted surfer dudes and dudettes. Sand dusted the floor. Ahh, her home away from home. She could spend hours in a surf shop, running her fingers over the boards, inhaling the scent. She got off on surfboards the way some women got off on shoes.

Eva led him to the back of the store where the wet suits were stored. “What size do you wear?”

He told her and she leafed through the offerings. “Since you might not take to surfing, let’s go with a lower end model. You can sell it on Craigslist if you decide surfing’s not for you.”

“Couldn’t I just rent one?” he asked.

“You could, but you might really love surfing and the rental fees can add up quickly.” She handed him a wet suit and pointed to the dressing room.

“I’m going to look like a dork in this.”

“Not at all. But come out and model it for me, I want to make sure it fits you correctly. An ill-fitting wet suit is pure misery.”

But when he emerged from the dressing room clad in the wet suit, the misery was all hers as a hard ache yanked up tight in her stomach. Omigosh, the man could have been a swimwear model, he was that hot. The wet suit clung to his honed frame, showcasing every attribute he possessed and he possessed a lot of them.

Eva gulped. She was in over her head with this one. If she was smart, she’d tell him she had a headache and needed to go home. But clearly, she was
not
smart or she wouldn’t be here with him in the first place.

“How do I look?” he asked, arms extended.

“Um…”

“That bad, huh?”

No, dammit, that good.
“It fits,” she mumbled.

“I’ll just go change.”

“Wear it.”

Oh, you shameless hussy. You just want to stare at his ass.

“Just wear it out of the store?”

“No point in changing and then trying to shimmy into it on the beach,” she said, even though she wouldn’t have minded watching that, as well.

“Good point.”

“Next stop, surfboard rental,” she said as they walked up to the cash register to pay for his purchase.

In the process, his elbow brushed lightly against her rib cage, just underneath her breast. She knew the touch was accidental, but that didn’t stop her body’s red alert.

What if it wasn’t accidental?

Eva slid a sideways glance his way as he dug his wallet from the back pocket of the Hawaiian shorts he had thrown over his forearm along with his T-shirt. Neptune himself couldn’t have looked sexier.

Okay, so he was sexy. Okay, so she liked him. She wasn’t ashamed to admit it. That didn’t mean she had to do anything about the attraction.

He was different from the men she was accustomed to—disciplined, logical, handy with a hot water heater. She shivered thinking about how this broad-shouldered man had been in her apartment, so close to her bedroom. Would he be just as handy in bed?

“Cold?” he asked.

Another good quality. Concern for others.
Stop cataloging his good qualities. Look for faults. Look for things that will annoy you after you’ve dated him for a while.

Hmm, that was a tall order. She couldn’t find anything annoying about him.

“Yeah,” she lied.

“Let’s get you out in the sun.” His smile was genuine, but it seemed rusty, as if he didn’t use it often. It wasn’t that he was stern, more like he’d forgotten how to play.

Well, she could cure
that.

You shouldn’t be curing anything. You should be keeping your distance. Cure yourself of short-term relationships.

Ah, but honestly, was it so wrong to hang out with him? Maybe she should have a fling with him. Let him be her palette cleanser after Keith. A good guy to restore her faith in human nature.

What would he do if she kissed him right here? A real kiss this time. None of that cheek stuff. Felt that firm mouth on hers. Splayed her fingers over that taut chest; felt his heart skip a beat. Find out if she affected him as strongly as he affected her.

His hand went to the small of her back as he guided her out the door. The slight pressure sent another shiver up her spine. She blinked against the strong sunlight, reality smashing through the sweet little daydream she’d been spinning. Seagulls cawed. A group of college kids played volleyball. The air lay heavy with the scent of sea and sand.

She retrieved her surfboard and they stashed his clothes in a locker. She shimmied into her own wet suit, fully aware that he was watching her from the corner of his eye while trying to pretend that he wasn’t. After that, they went to rent a beginner board with a leg 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 her. One small step and her leg would brush against his…

“Eva…”

Her name on his lips came out husky and raw and she’d never been so aroused in the bright sunlight on a public beach. She didn’t consciously move. Didn’t think about it at all. But her feet, oh, her unruly feet, inched closer, closing the gap between them.

“Yes?”

“What now?” His stare pierced hers, sharp with desire. For her.

My place or yours?
she whispered inside her head. Or so she thought.

“Another odd stray thought?”

She slapped a palm over her mouth. “Did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to say that out loud. See what I mean? That terrible character flaw again.”

“Honesty is never a terrible thing.”

“Meaning?” Tension coiled up tight in her stomach and her throat and other, more feminine, parts. Her nipples beaded hard, aching to feel his hot tongue.

His gaze flicked downward and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. That smug little smile caused her nipples to knot even tighter.

“About these surfing lessons…” he said, and stepped away from her.

Eva told herself she was glad he’d backed up, backed off. Relieved. Grateful. Yes, surfing. That’s why they’d come here. To teach him to surf and that’s what she was going to do, because anything else was pure insanity. She’d learned her lesson. No more jumping headlong into relationships.

But that didn’t stop her from wanting to jump his very sexy bones.