High Stakes Seduction (9 page)

She stopped, turned, set down the surfboard and pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead. She wriggled her fingers. “Good morning, Adam.”

“You going surfing?”
God, what an idiotic thing to say.
She was wearing a bikini and carrying a surfboard. Where else would she be going? For a ride on the space shuttle?

“Yes,” Eva said, politely ignoring his stupid question.

He rushed down the stairs, his eyes drinking her in. The woman was gorgeous. Long, tan legs, toenails painted cherry-red today. It made him want to buy whipped cream and snack on her. Her hair was caught up in a high ponytail.

“Hey,” he said.

She smiled. “Hey.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“Listen,” he said. “Last night I got your message loud and clear, you’re not interested in dating.”

“Nothing personal.” She raked a lingering gaze over his body and her pink tongue flicked out to moisten her upper lip. “It’s not you per se. In fact, another time, another place, another life…”

“You’ve got this moratorium on dating.”

“Right.”

“I understand and respect that.”

“Thank you.”

“But you’re the only person I know in San Diego.”

“You’ve only been here a week. You’ll meet other people.”

He inclined his head toward her surfboard. “I’ve always wanted to surf.”

“They have surfing lessons at the beach.”

“I know, but I was hoping you could give me a few pointers.”

She looked as though she was about to say no, but then she let out her breath through straight pearly white teeth. Teeth he’d love to run his tongue over.

“You’ll need a wet suit.”

“Okay, could we go buy one?”

She laughed. There was that soft sound again that uncoiled something dangerous inside him. “You want surfing lessons today?”

“You
are
going to the beach.”

“You’re serious about this? You really want to surf? It’s not just an excuse to hit on me?”

“Just surfing, nothing else.” He held up a palm as if he was taking an oath. “I promise.”

She canted her head and studied him for a long moment and he just knew she was going to say no and he’d be back at square one. But she surprised him. “Follow me.”

He followed her out to the parking lot where she tossed her surfboard into the back of a canary-yellow Jeep. Bright and cheery, just like its owner. She seemed supremely confident, swinging up into the driver’s seat of the doorless Jeep.

Feeling a bit out of his element, Adam got in beside her and fished around for the seat belt.

Eva started up the engine before he was strapped in and that made him anxious. He wasn’t a rule breaker in spite of the fact he’d pushed the envelope on this assignment. As a military brat he’d cut his teeth on protocol and knew what was expected of him. They were out on the street and he still wasn’t buckled in.

“What’s wrong?” Eva asked, her ponytail bouncing as she bobbed her head.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re scowling like you just got bawled out by your boss.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“No worries. You can scowl at this gorgeous day if you want to. It’s your prerogative.”

“I don’t want to scowl,” he said, finally snapping his seat belt into place and his mood immediately buoyed.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t, you just smile an inordinate amount. You’re like sunshine, smiling all the time.”

“Sunshine doesn’t smile.”

“But it’s sunny. You’re sunny.”

“You scowl a lot, don’t you?”

“No,” he denied.

“Liar. You’ve got a little furrow right there.” She reached over and planted the pad of her thumb between his eyebrows.

The sizzle of her touch alarmed him. And so did the fact that she weaved onto the shoulder a bit.

“Hey! Watch the road, woman,” he growled. Maybe he was a chauvinist, but he liked being behind the wheel of a vehicle. It bothered him to leave the driving to her. That control thing again.

“Why? Did it move?”

“Huh?”

“It’s earthquake country. Sometimes the roads will move on you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Sense of humor not your strong suit, huh?” She winked.

“You’re an odd woman, you know that?”

“Why, thank you.” She straightened, looking like a perky cocker spaniel that had just won best in show at Westminster.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Oh, so you like a proper woman who doesn’t drive a Jeep without doors?”

“I never said that.”

“How about some tunes? Let’s have music.” She reached for the radio dial. A lively hip-hop beat pummeled the air.

Adam made a face.

“What? Not a fan of Snoop Dogg?”

“Not my style.”

She eyed him. “Classic music buff?”

“Jazz.”

“Really? Like who? Miles Davis?”

“Yeah. You listen to jazz?”

“I listen to everything. Hip-hop, classic, rock and roll, country and western, Celtic. It’s all good.”

“Never met anyone who likes all kinds of music.”

“Well, now you have. Music is the icing on the cake that is life.”

“It is one of life’s simple pleasures. Something I don’t get to enjoy much.”

“How come?”

“Too busy working.”

“So what do you do for a living?” Eva pulled to a stop at a red light, pushed her sunglasses down on her nose and peered over the rim at him.

“Um…” He was so busy noticing how good her firm supple arm looked as her hand griped the gearshift beside his knee that he almost forgot the cover story Commander Higgins had invented for him. “Accounting.”

She pushed her glasses back up. “You’re a CPA?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a sexy job and he expected the light to go out of her eyes.

“Oh, that’s great,” she enthused.

“It is?”

“Maybe you could help me with my bookkeeping. I love being my own boss, except for all the paperwork. In high school I was terrible in math.”

“Why don’t you just hire a bookkeeper? They’re cheaper.”

She blew out her breath and her bangs ruffled from the burst of air. “I had one for a while, but she embezzled from me. That added to my trust issues.”

“You?” He shook his head. She seemed so easy breezy. “You have trust issues?”

She rolled her eyes. “Out the wazoo.”

Her colorful language intrigued him. He wasn’t accustomed to women who talked this way. “Why’s that?”

She waved a hand. “Unstable childhood. But I’m not blaming my mother. I’m grown. My issues are my problem, not hers. Although our parents shape us, ultimately, we’re responsible for who we become.”

He liked her attitude. She took responsibility for her own behavior.

“Oh, dear.” She frowned.

“What is it?” He scanned the area, instantly on alert, trying to see what had alarmed her.

“I’m out of gas.”

“You don’t keep your tank half-full at all times?”

She swung her head around to stare at him as if he was an alien being. “You do?”

“Yes. Not only does it help with gas mileage but—”

The Jeep sputtered, then died.

“Ah, crap.” Eva coasted the stalled vehicle to the side of the road. Traffic whizzed by them. “And there you have it. Another one of my terrible flaws. I forget to put gas in the tank.”

“You really meant you were
out of gas,
out of gas.”

“That’s what
out of gas
means.”

“Most people say they’re out of gas when they’re on a quarter of a tank.”

“Would those be the same people who keep their tank half-full at all times?”

“It would.”

“Too bad you’re not with one of those people.” Eva unbuckled her seat belt and hopped from the Jeep. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“To push, there’s a gas station on the corner.”

He got out and followed her to the back of the Jeep. “You get back inside and guide the Jeep. I’ll push.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll help you push.”

“Who’s going to guide the Jeep?”

“The same person who would guide it if you weren’t here.”

“If I wasn’t here some guy would stop and help you.”

She flashed a grin. “I know.”

“Get in the vehicle, Eva,” he said in his most authoritarian voice.

“Ooh, bossy. Do women usually go for that?”

He pointed at the driver’s side. “In.”

Her saucy little tongue darted out to touch her upper lip. The morning sun cast a bright glow off her soft skin.

Adam gulped, feeling the chemistry churn inside him. Dammit, he wanted to kiss her. A real kiss this time, none of that cheek smooching bullshit.

Eva turned and went back to the Jeep. He angled his head, watched her magnificent rump walk away. Then he leaned down, putting his shoulder against the back of the Jeep. “You got it in neutral?”

“I do.”

“Here we go.” Adam pushed and the Jeep rolled forward.

A few minutes later, they were at the gas station filling up the tank. Eva bounced into the convenience store and came back with two granola bars and two power drinks. She tossed one of each to him.

“Stamina,” she said. “You’re going to need it for surfing.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Not ragging on me too much for running out of gas. I know it bugged you.”

“What’s the point of nagging you?”

“Exactly. My last boyfriend—” She broke off and shrugged. “But you don’t want to hear about that.”

Adam tensed. Was she talking about Barksdale? “I don’t mind if you need to get it off your chest.”

“No guy likes to hear about a woman’s ex.”

“We’re not dating, remember.” He needed to encourage her to talk about Barksdale, get as much info as he could, even though he really
didn’t
want to hear the details of her relationship with that hose bag.

“No,” she agreed.

“We’re friends, right?”

“That’s still up in the air.”

“The trust issues again?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I must be more trusting than I thought to have even shared that with you. It looks like I’m making progress. My therapist would be proud.”

“You have a therapist?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“You don’t strike me as someone who needs a therapist.”

“She gives me perspective.”

“You’re something of a paradox.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you say you have trust issues, but you breezily take a stranger with you to the beach.”

“It’s a public place and you’re not that strange,” she teased.

“Then you run out of gas. Most distrustful people would keep their tanks—”

“I know, I know, half-full at all times.”

The gas pump made a clicking noise, indicating that the fueling was finished. She holstered the nozzle and screwed on the gas cap. Adam found himself watching her again, admiring the way she moved.

“I’m an extrovert by nature and I really like people. I trust people initially, on the surface, but when it comes to deep down, intimacy…” She shook her head. “I guess I’ve been burned one time too many.”

“The sticky-fingered bookkeeper and that ex-boyfriend you were talking about?”

“Among other things.”

“So really, it’s not that you have trouble trusting, but that you trust too easily and then get hurt because the threshold of your guard is so low.”

She snapped her fingers. “That’s it exactly. You’re pretty insightful.”

Assessing people was part of his training but he couldn’t tell her that. She took the receipt that the gas pump spit out.

They were on their way again, traveling the short distance to the beach.

“You never did tell me about the last boyfriend,” he prompted.

“You sure you want to hear this?”

“I’ve got broad shoulders.”

She checked out his shoulders, and smiled. “You do.”

“Unburden yourself.”

Eva hesitated and then said, “Keith was difficult to please. Nothing I did was ever good enough.”

“Was that why you dumped him?”

“I didn’t dump him. He dumped me.”

“What kind of bozo would dump you?” He heard the disbelief in his own voice. “Seriously, if you were my woman…”

“I’m not your woman,” she said. “I’m not anyone’s woman. I’m my own woman.”

“I know you are. I phrased that poorly. I—”