“Do you know how great that bathing suit fits you?” he commented.
I
was surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Thanks. It’s definitely
not the bikini I should have been wearing, according to Caroline.”
“You can see just as much in a bra and panties, which I’ve already seen.”
“Only the bra,” I corrected him.
“Personally,
I’ve always preferred a woman in a one-piece. The way it molds to the
skin… perfectly outlining every delectable curve on her body. There’s
only one thing sexier than that.”
“Oh yeah? And what is that?”
“Nakedness.”
When
I didn’t respond to his answer, Max plucked my empty bottle from my
hand and set both bottles on the on top ledge of the pool behind my
shoulder as he moved in closer. “Shall I get you another?”
I shifted back a bit. “No, I’m good. I hope you’re not trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?”
He
took another step closer. “You accepted the beers. I didn’t make you
drink them, or ask you to get in the pool. And I would never force
myself on a woman just to get what I want.”
“Is that
because alcohol makes it so much easier for you?” I retreated another
step and my back reached the tiled side, indicating I had nowhere else
to go.
“The alcohol means nothing; and the fact that
you brought it up tells me you’re trying to find an excuse. What I’m
trying to figure out is: do you want me more right now? Or that day I
pushed you against the wall? Or was it when you came out of the bathroom
last night, dressed in a tight, little tank top and shorts?”
My
heart started racing at his sudden forwardness, but I couldn’t let him
get to me. “I see the decent conversation we enjoyed tonight has ended.
Now you’re full of delusional assumptions.”
“Your eyes give you away.”
As soon as he said that, I stared into the water. There was only about an inch of space between us.
“And so does your breathing. I affect you more than you realize, or will admit.”
“You’re so full of yourself. I just met you. I don’t even know you.”
“I’m only stating the facts. You want me and you can’t even admit you do.”
“I do not! I’m not sure what gave you that idea.”
“The
gaze in your eyes, your increased breathing, your mouth, hell your
whole body reacts to me when I’m around. I can even smell it on you!”
Max raised his arms and put them on each side of my head as he gripped
the ledge with each hand. Water trickled down his arms and dripped back
into the pool. “When I’m this close, your body sends out pheromones and
signals, like it is calling me. Your hands find their way to my skin…
like now.”
My hands were pressed against his chest.
Like a magnet, they were drawn to him over and over again without any
forethought on my part. Closing the gap between us, Max pressed his body
against mine and I found it hard to resist the moan that nearly escaped
my mouth.
Leaning down, his lips barely brushed mine
when he spoke. “And right now, you’re wondering what it would feel like
to have my lips tasting yours. Possessing you. But I won’t take what I
want, Abi. So, tell me… what do you want?”
Keep a low profile. That's what Abigale Peterson was supposed to do, especially when the person she was being protected from was one of the world's worst crime lords. After seven years in the Witness Protection Program, she felt no safer now than she did when she was seventeen. Revenge was rarely forgotten when it came to a professional criminal like Zerilli.
Low profiles meant no social life and definitely no love life.
Paranoia and lies became daily habits, going against everything Abigale believed in, but they kept her safe. They kept everyone safe.
Until a house fire puts her out of that safety and into the arms of a stranger. Max Smith is sexy, smart, and has major attitude. He’s the only one who seems to get her. He calms her fears and comforts her from her nightmares. But he also sees right through her lies.
Before Abigale can stop, she’s in too deep; confiding too much and breaking the one rule she promised herself to uphold: Never fall in love.
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