Body Heat

The last person Melanie Tucker wants to find herself trapped with on a party boat is her nemesis, Adam Stone. As always, he’s too smooth…and a bit too sexy for comfort. But when they both fall overboard—and wind up stranded together—Melanie just can’t resist all the delicious body heat smoldering between them….

Caught in the Act

When a robbery goes bad, undercover cop Mick Dawson can’t believe Delilah Piper (aka mystery writer Lela DeBraye) was just in the wrong place at the wrong time—and neither do the perps. The only way to protect her while he investigates what really happened is to stick with her 24/7—and try not to fall for the object of his investigation!

Praise for New York Times bestselling author

LORI FOSTER

“Foster’s writing satisfies all appetites with plenty of searing sexual tension and page-turning action in this steamy, edgy, and surprisingly tender novel.”

—Publishers Weekly on Getting Rowdy

“Foster’s third Love Undercover novel is a steamy delight

with characters so beautifully and painfully real that every wrenching,

joyful and steamy scene is worth savoring.”

—RT Book Reviews on Getting Rowdy

“Foster hits every note (or power chord) of the true alpha male hero…

a compelling read from start to finish.”

—Publishers Weekly on Bare It All

“A sexy, believable roller coaster of action and romance.”

—Kirkus Reviews on Run the Risk

“Bestseller Foster…has an amazing ability to capture a man’s emotions and lust with sizzling sex scenes and meld it with a strong woman’s point of view.”

—Publishers Weekly on A Perfect Storm

“Foster rounds out her searing trilogy with a story

that tilts toward the sizzling and sexy side of the genre.”

—RT Book Reviews on Savor the Danger

“The fast-paced thriller keeps these well-developed characters moving….Foster’s series will continue to garner fans with this exciting installment.”

—Publishers Weekly on Trace of Fever

“Steamy, edgy and taut.”

—Library Journal on When You Dare

Up In Flames

Lori Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

BODY HEAT

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

BODY HEAT

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER ONE

She was the only female fully clothed.

On an enormous party boat filled with people, a dozen half-naked women vying for masculine attention, her subtlety made her stand out. And he wasn’t the only man noticing, a fact that was starting to get to him.

He should thank her. After all, he needed all the distractions he could get right now. Trying to keep his mind off the importance of the deal he’d finalize once they reached Marco Island was making him crazy. He’d worked long and hard for this day, and now it was almost at hand.

She walked to the railing, leaning out over the clear blue Gulf waters, watching the sky and the endless seas; she seemed aloof. A damp, salty breeze picked up and plastered her loose, colorful skirts to her body, emphasizing a sweet little bottom and long legs.

Adam Stone shifted his carry-on bag from one hand to the other, then flexed his fingers. The expensive leather bag, bought for him by his younger brother, Kyle, was a celebratory gift specifically for this trip. The bag was attached to his belt by a long leather strap, securing it to his person. It held important papers as well as a sizable check. Beyond that, the bag held significant sentimental value. This bag was a sign of his future, his family’s future. There was little chance of being robbed on the yacht, but his innate sense of caution was hard to shake off when so much was at stake.

He considered approaching the woman, but held back, mostly because he knew he didn’t have time to get involved beyond small talk. Not only that, she appeared to be ignoring all the males on the boat, himself included. So far, she’d kept her back to him, almost as if she knew of his interest and rejected it out of hand.

The Florida sun was hazy today, the sky overcast, but that didn’t deter the bikini-clad boaters who approached him. They’d been coming on to him since he’d climbed aboard, determinedly seductive, despite his disinterest. All his attention remained centered on that elusive woman as she walked away, separating herself from the crowd once again.

Without his usual charm, Adam excused himself to follow her. It was her glossy black hair he spotted first. Even without the glare of sunshine, that dark hair shone silky soft. The wind ruffled the short, fine curls and sent her colorful skirts billowing like a flag.

Adam swallowed.

Ridiculous that seeing the shape of a slim thigh through a filmy skirt should have such an effect when he’d just walked away from a topless woman, but there was no denying his interest. He felt it clear to the bottom of his stomach, and somehow, the feeling was damn familiar.

Her elbows were braced on the handrail, so he could easily trace the feminine line of her nape, her spine, down to a narrow waist. Her halter top, modest in comparison to the tiny bikinis, still afforded him a teasing view of honey-colored skin and tempting curves. Enthralled, he stepped a little closer, again shifting the bag in his hand.

She hadn’t yet noticed his approach. With a sigh that he detected even over the loud music and the rush of the water against the hull, she lifted her face to the breeze. Adam stepped slightly to the side, curious to see her profile, to decide if her looks warranted all the interest she’d generated in him.

His shock almost knocked him over.

“Mel? Mel Tucker?”

Rather than turning to him with equal surprise, she abruptly stiffened. Her hands gripped the rail a little harder, and she slowly swiveled her head in his direction. Eyes narrow, mouth set, she said, “Old habits die hard, I see. But the name is Melanie. Ms. Tucker to you.”

Adam laughed, his entire mood suddenly lighter. The cursed fate that had put him on this boat no longer seemed so cursed. “You haven’t changed a bit, Mel.” His gaze coasted over her as she turned to face him fully, hands on her slim hips. His voice dropped the tiniest bit, and without his mind’s permission, he muttered, “You’re still sexy as hell.”

Her mouth tightened, and the pale blue eyes that still haunted his dreams looked more ominous than the approaching storm. Lifting her nose slightly in a gesture she’d perfected as far back as grade school, she said, “You obviously haven’t changed, either.”

Her words hit him like a blow—just as she’d no doubt intended. His muscles knotted. The hell he hadn’t changed. He had—in too many ways to count.

Adam held onto the burst of anger by a thread. Always, for as long as he could remember, Mel had been able to rile him with very little effort. The last time he’d seen her back in Brockton, Ohio, his family had been incredibly poor, while her family owned the entire town. She lived on a hill with a view while he lived down by the river in a trailer nearly rusted through. Though he’d gotten a job at a young age, what he made went into helping out his folks—and his father had died anyway. Mel had gone off to an elite college, and he’d dealt with some of the worst grief of his life.

And she dared to suggest he’d survived it all without changing?

Because he was older and wiser and had long since outgrown taunting any lady, he forced a smile. “Seven years have gone by. I think it’s safe to say we’ve both changed.”

She blinked hard and her jaw worked. “What do you want, Adam?”

Incredulous, he stared at her, his mouth open, his brows up. “You’re still angry,” he accused. “After seven years, you’re holding a grudge!” He finished with a short, rough laugh that sent her back straight and her chin up.

Several tense seconds passed, then she abruptly turned away and marched the last few feet to the very back of the boat. She ducked under a slide that sloped from the upper deck to just above the water, opened a double gate and sat on the dive platform. Gathering up her skirts to her knees, she plunked her small feet into the blue water, dismissing him.

Adam fumed. The hell she would dismiss him! He, too, ducked under the slide, sitting cross-legged beside her and propping his bag in his lap. She remained silent and stiff. Too silent. He didn’t like it.

Mel had always had an undeniable effect on him. From the first time he’d seen her, when they’d both been no more than kids, there’d been a chemistry of sorts, something she’d denied and he’d continually struggled with. He felt it still, but he wouldn’t let her know. He wouldn’t let her and her wealth and social position intimidate him after all this time. He’d done all right for himself, though it hadn’t been easy. He had no reason to feel like the poor trash her family had once looked down on.

The boat moved lazily, barely slicing through the Gulf waters, yet the surface was choppy. He glanced at the sky, then frowned at Melanie. Searching for innocuous conversation to show his nonchalance, he murmured, “It looks like a damn storm. I’m going to be late.”

He wanted her to ask him, Late for what? But she didn’t, of course. Nothing with Mel had ever been easy. Instead she said, “You shouldn’t be on this boat, Adam.”

She hadn’t looked at him, and that bothered him even more. All his life he’d thought of her as the one that got away, the one out of reach. There were still nights when he couldn’t sleep for thinking of her, imagining....

When they were younger, he’d teased her unmercifully. Though he was two years older, he’d been held back in first grade after missing too much school due to illnesses that didn’t get treated by a doctor. Real doctors were often too expensive, and trips to the clinic took his parents away from work.

He and Mel saw each other often back then, and her life-style, her obvious wealth, had been like a pounding toothache; it prodded at him always, reminding him of what he didn’t have, while she had way too much. As a kid, he’d almost hated her, at least on some level.

By junior high school, though, he’d learned to hide his feelings...and he’d gradually become aware of her as a female. She represented all the things in life he wanted to obtain; security, comfort, importance. After a while, he’d wanted to obtain her. But that was like wanting the moon in the palm of his hand. Ridiculous.

He’d watched her constantly, dwelling on their differences, feeling equal parts obsessive and possessive. When her innocent eyes began looking more sad, more lonely, he was the first, maybe the only, to notice. In a small, moderate town, her outstanding wealth had isolated her.

He’d wanted to chase that sadness away. It gave them something in common, something he gravitated to.

But that was so long ago. She’d hated him then.

Evidently she hated him still.

“I should have taken a charter,” he growled, ignoring the pang of old regrets and the bite of her scorn that could still bother him regardless of his denials. The wind whistled around them, and a colorful float went flying off the deck to bob wildly in the churning water. “But the damn captain of the charter came down ill. I would have missed an important meeting, but then your buddy, the captain of this boat, saw me and offered a ride. I accepted.”

“He’s not my buddy. I barely know him.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

She stared out at sea, constantly pushing her wind-tossed curls out of her face. Her hair was shorter now, but he liked it. The casual style suited her small features. The hem of her skirt was getting damp, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He noticed. He’d always been painfully aware of every little detail that concerned her.

Ignoring his question, she said, “I saw you earlier.” She glanced at him, then away again, her expression still set. “You’ve had at least two women hanging onto you ever since you stepped on board. Some things, I guess, never change.”

Stunned, he stared at her profile. “You saw me right away but didn’t say hello?”

“Why would I?” She looked right at him, and her eyes blazed. “We didn’t exactly part as friends. You were a mean, petty jerk who enjoyed making my life miserable.”

He searched her face, his frustration extreme. “For God’s sake, Mel, that was seven years ago. We were kids, and when we got older I didn’t...”

“Melanie. My name is Melanie, damn it.”

He couldn’t recall ever seeing her temper before. Mostly she’d been nervous with him, shying away if he got too close, never defending herself, no matter how hard he’d tried to get her to do just that. He lifted one brow, more frustrated by the second. “Well, excuse me all to hell and back.” Then he asked, “You have changed, haven’t you?”

There went that chin again. “If you mean you no longer intimidate me, yes.”

“I intimidated you?” He knew it was true, that he’d played on her vulnerability, but it wasn’t something he wanted to own up to now. Jealousy, need, a very basic emotional hunger, had driven him then. He wasn’t proud of that time in his life. “Honey, you were the one with all the clout. If you’d wanted, you could have had my whole family tossed out of town.”

She blinked, as if surprised by what she’d said, what she’d admitted. A few raindrops fell, lightly at first, but quickly picking up ferocity. Behind them, the partyers began scurrying about, laughing and squealing. Women grabbed for their tops or towels, couples jumped out of the upper deck hot tub. Within minutes, everyone was under cover in the cabin. Everyone except them.

Finally Melanie looked away and Adam drew a deep, starving breath, still watching her. For a minute there, with her gaze locked on his, he’d felt caught, and the feeling wasn’t altogether uncomfortable. She stirred something in him that had been missing for quite some time.

The rain came a little harder, wetting his hair, but Adam ignored it.

He should take her arm and help her into the cabin. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to talk to her, alone, away from the damn drunken crowd. Once they reached the island, he likely wouldn’t see her again. Somehow, he wanted to apologize to her for his behavior of the past. Somehow, he wanted her to know all he’d accomplished since then, exactly how much he’d changed.

He didn’t want her thinking of him as the poor kid down by the river.

The boat was suddenly put in full throttle, and they both lurched, grabbing a section of handrail—and a part of each other. Mel’s fingers clutched his pant leg while he held her elbow. Gently, his heart pounding, he slid his hand down her arm to her slender fingers. Her hold loosened, and when she would have let go, he captured her hand, steadying her. Mel’s eyes widened and she looked behind her, as if only then aware of the storm and the deserted deck. The bouncing boat kept her from shaking him off. Over the roar of the engine, she said, “We should go inside.”

An abandoned beach towel hit him in the back, plastered to him by the rain and wind. He held her just a little tighter while struggling to untangle himself from it. Thank God he had dry clothes in his bag or his meeting would be ruined. He couldn’t exactly make the deal of his life looking like a drowned rat. Another float whipped by, disappearing into the churning waters.

Growing alarmed by the strength of the wind, Adam carefully stood, then helped her to do the same. From the sound of the revelers inside the cabin, the laughing and loud music, no one even knew they were still on deck. And just as Mel got to her feet, the boat veered sharply to port and she lost her balance. With wide eyes and a horrified scream, she crashed overboard. Adam cursed viciously and made a wild grab for her but missed. His bag fell from his grasp, and the strap to his waist jerked him off balance. He, too, went over with a gigantic splash, but more awkwardly than she, his head hitting the slide as he flew past.

Just before he went under, he heard the roar of the receding boat motor, the louder roar of the storm, and worse, Mel’s nearly hysterical screams. Her fear galvanized him. Ignoring his aching head, he pushed himself to the surface and frantically searched for her while wind, rain and waves lashed his face. The side of his head hurt like hell, but he didn’t have time to complain yet. Mel was already several yards away from him, thrashing about wildly as if drowning. Adam felt a crushing fear when he twisted to see the boat going out of sight. Fighting the dragging weight of his heavy bag, he began stroking through the water toward her. Just as she let out another garbled scream, he reached her...and they both went under.

* * *

Melanie felt a slick, sliding movement against her lower body and opened her mouth to scream again. She managed to gulp a mouthful of salt water. Visions of sharks made her panic real and unmanageable.

But then Adam’s blond head broke the surface, and he dragged her upward against his solid body. “Mel!” She felt his legs brush her, tangling with her long skirts, his hard arms around her. Nothing in her life had ever felt so reassuring.

“Oh, God.” She gripped him fiercely, trying her best to ignore the reality of her situation. She loved boats, the sunshine and fresh air, but she had never quite envisioned herself thrown overboard, at the mercy of the Gulf and all its aquatic denizens. “Oh, God, oh, God...”

“Mel, you’re drowning me! It’s okay.”

He tried to ease her away, but she got one hand knotted in his hair and held on for dear life. His familiar scent, one she’d never forget no matter how long she lived, surrounded her, and she crowded even closer. His hair was the same, still too long, too sexy, damn him, and she used it like an anchor, holding him tight. She didn’t want to be shark bait.

Her voice shook uncontrollably when she spoke. “Where’s the damn boat? Where is it!?”

“Sh. It’s all right,” he said. “We need to swim, honey.”

“Swim? Swim!” A vicious wave slapped her in the face, water going up her nose, making her choke and sputter. The furious storm continued, almost pushing them under. Would the turbulent water draw the sharks or chase them away?

Shouting to be heard, Adam said, “The boat is gone. Mel, loosen up, you’re ripping my hair out.”

She tried, she really did. She’d so badly wanted to make a good impression on him, and this surely wasn’t it. But she couldn’t get her fingers to unknot. “This isn’t happening...this isn’t happening....”

“Mel, calm down. The idiots on board are either too drunk or too stupid to realize they lost us. We’re on our own until they dock and count heads.”

If they counted heads. He was right about them all being tipsy, and she’d so deliberately separated herself from them, wanting to be alone, needing the solitude. Would they even notice she was gone? She moaned long and loud. “We’ll drown!”

“No, we won’t.” His voice was calm, sure, just as she remembered it. “We’re not far from shore. Can you swim?”

“What about sharks?” She looked around wildly, terrified, not certain if what she saw were shadows in the water or merely waves.

“There’s no sharks here.”

Her head whipped back around, and she tightened her hand in his hair, making him wince. “How do you know?” she demanded, shaking his head, wanting confirmation. It would be just like Adam to pull her leg, to play on her fear.

“Mel, damn it, turn me loose!”

Through her panic, she read the pain on his face and struggled to relax her grip. Adam circled her waist with his strong arms and held her closer. The contact with his body startled her, despite her predicament. Always, when she’d imagined such a scenario, they’d been on dry land, he’d been filled with abject apologies, and she’d been benevolent in her forgiveness.

Instead, she managed to make a total fool of herself. Not that it mattered if they were going to die, anyway.

Speaking close to her ear, he said, “I’ve got a Florida guidebook, The Key to the Keys. No sharks in these waters, I promise. Now can you swim?”

“Don’t let me go!”

“Honey, I’m right here. But we need—”

Something bumped into them. It was huge and...red. She gasped, again choking.

“A float, surely heaven sent.” Adam smiled at her, his eyes narrowed against the impact of the waves, his lashes spiked with the rain and sea, his blond hair plastered to his skull. But he smiled, and she felt ridiculously reassured as she treaded water. “Mel? Can you climb on?”

She remembered the float blowing off the deck, and he had offered it to her. Lord love him. She gratefully grabbed the rubber edge and with more panic than grace heaved her body mostly upon it. She gripped it so tightly, there was no way she’d lose her hold until she felt solid land beneath her feet. Her wet, clinging skirts were everywhere, and whether or not they covered her backside, she couldn’t say. She felt too numb to know, too frightened to care.

She felt Adam rearrange the skirt, felt his hands on her flesh and merely said a prayer that they’d survive.

“Now just hang on.” Moving to the back, Adam levered himself up over her until his head was even with her derriere. She felt his heavy, sodden leather case placed on the small of her back but didn’t begrudge him that. As long as she was out, she was happy to accommodate him. He began paddling and kicking, propelling them forward.

She felt like an ineffectual idiot, like a hysterical dolt, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She continued to look around, watching for signs of creatures of any kind. If she spotted so much as a goldfish eye to eye, she’d lose her fragile grasp on control.

A thought occurred to her, and she yelled over the storm, “How do you know which way to go?”

“I’m guessing.”

“What!” He mumbled something she couldn’t hear and his chin bumped her bottom, then he shouted, “The guidebook, remember? I figure we’re still somewhere between the Keys and Marco Island. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

She thought to question him further but decided against it. Talking was too difficult at the moment, and her teeth were chattering too badly to make good sense anyway. It was easier to trust him and let him take over.

But when it seemed like an hour had gone by and her lips were numb from the cold rain, she began to panic again. He could well be swimming them farther out into the Gulf, rather than inland. There could be whales as well as sharks, maybe even giant eels— She jumped when he reached up and touched her cheek.

“Almost there, Mel. How’re you holding up?”

For a moment she couldn’t believe what he’d said, then, incredulous, she asked, “Almost where?”

“Shore. Look ahead.”

He had better eyes than she if he could penetrate the sheet of rain, but when she looked as hard as she could, she thought she could see the outline of land. Her breath left her in a whoosh, and her heart began racing. “Where are we?”

“Damned if I know. But if it’ll be solid beneath my feet, then it’s good enough for me.”

Absolutely. She wanted out of the water and she didn’t care where. With a deep breath to fortify her, she released her death grip on the raft. Her knuckles hurt, her fingers felt stiff, but she extended her arms and began paddling.

“Good girl. We’ll get there, Mel. You’ll see.”

She kept paddling, but she closed her eyes, too, saying a silent prayer. Please, please, please let me live long enough to put my feet on land again.

Almost ten minutes later, her prayers were answered.

CHAPTER TWO

When she realized Adam was standing, she almost cried with relief. She wanted to slide off the raft to make it easier for him, but the rain had let up and she could see more clearly. The land they approached looked ominous with an abundance of skinny, mangled palm trees, some practically hanging in the water, and spreading, spidery mangrove trees, making the island look more like a scraggly forest. The ocean floor was visible, and what she saw scared her to death. Shells, small fish, water weeds. She curled a little more tightly on the raft.

“Do you think there’s...anything in the water?”

At first Adam didn’t answer, just kept trudging forward, dragging her along. Finally, with weariness evident in every word, he said, “Nothing’s bit me yet.”

Just the thought made her squeamish. A few more feet, and Adam walked past her, going the rest of the way to shore and collapsing onto his back.

Alarmed, Mel realized the raft couldn’t very well be dragged in with her on it, and if she didn’t move, she’d float right back out to sea. Not that he seemed to care.

Mustering her courage, she jumped off the raft—and sank as deep as mid-shins. The water was so shallow, Adam couldn’t have pulled her any farther along.

Disregarding her blatant cowardice even as she carefully surveyed the shallow water, she attempted to act blasé, to hide her fear. She grabbed the raft and pulled it behind her as she waded out of the water.

Her strappy little sandals were long gone, and her toes sank into the white sand. Her skirts, made to wrap twice around her waist, were sadly tangled, sticking wetly to her thighs, hindering her every movement. She stopped to shake them loose, to squeeze out some of the water, but it was useless. They clung to her like a second skin. She plopped down on the fine sand beside Adam. He didn’t move.

His eyes were closed against the now gentle rain, his clothes every bit as ruined as hers, his mouth tight. And still he looked incredibly gorgeous.

All the old feelings of inadequacy swamped her. For as long as she could remember, Adam had been vital, outgoing, easily the center of attention whenever he entered a room. And she’d been a fading wallflower, crippled by her vulnerability and shyness. When she’d seen him on the boat, she’d begun reviving plans to show him how she’d changed, to prove she wasn’t the little girl he probably remembered with pity. She’d thought to wait until they’d docked, change into something more sophisticated and then approach him.

Instead, he’d approached her, taking her totally off guard, and she’d behaved like an idiot. “Adam?”

“Hmm?” He looked a little pale, his mouth pinched.

“Are you all right?”

“Just dandy. I always take an hour-long swim to get the old blood pumping.”

Her eyes narrowed. Just like him to be so sarcastic at a moment like this.

But then she realized he had to be worn out. To her shame, she hadn’t helped him a bit. She looked at him again and considered apologizing, but couldn’t decide how. He was still her high-school nemesis, yet now he was her hero, as well. The circumstances had her grinding her teeth.

She looked around, up and down the shoreline, and saw nothing but bent and twisted trees, sand, a few pelicans. The island wasn’t large by any stretch, and she wondered how it would fare if the storm returned. “Adam...”

He groaned and reached up to rub at his head. “Talk softly, okay? I’ve got a ringing headache.”

She lowered her voice appropriately. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue.”

She looked around again. It was a safe bet they weren’t on Marco Island, so it had to be one of the smaller islands. She started to stand, her intent to locate people, houses, anything that looked even remotely domestic or civilized. But Adam caught at her arm.

“No, don’t wander off. I don’t want to take the chance we’ll get separated. Just give me a few minutes and we’ll start exploring together.” He said it all with his eyes closed, and her concern for him doubled despite her resentment of the situation.

Sinking into the sand, she looked him over. He lay on the shore like a starfish, arms and legs spread, his posture one of complete exhaustion. His tie remained tight around his throat, his bag still attached to his belt. Melanie figured the least she could do was try to make him comfortable, to prove he no longer cowed her. And he had jumped in after her, had kept her safe. If it hadn’t been for him, the sharks—she gulped—probably would have had her for lunch. Though she hadn’t actually seen any sharks, she was still certain they were there. And if nothing else, his presence had given her immeasurable comfort.

She reached for the strap on his bag, but before she could get a good grip on it, his fingers bit into her wrist.

His eyes opened and they pinned her, hot and intense. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Uh-oh. Melanie remembered those eyes from high school, so compelling, so sexy. Adam Stone had always had the ability to turn females into mush. Though he’d been poor and oftentimes dangerous, women had gravitated to him in hordes. But she’d resisted. She’d had little choice. His only interest in her had been spite.

“I was going to move your bag and undo your tie.”

“Why?” The visible signs of exhaustion momentarily left his body, and he looked ready to attack.

She made a sound of disgust. “You look miserable, that’s why.”

“Like you care?” He snorted. “Aren’t you the same woman who just a while ago was ready to bite off my face?”

She blushed, annoyed that he’d point that out. Damn him, how did he constantly do this to her? They’d only been reunited a very short time, and already she was on the defensive! Since she’d first met him, it had been that way. Right before she’d left for college, he tried to pretend an interest in her, but she’d been wise to him by then. She knew he was only setting her up so he could humiliate her. She’d refused him as quietly and with as little confrontation as possible.

But she’d come home from college a changed woman. Away from her parents’ smothering influence, she’d grown into her own, able to stand up to anyone when the situation warranted. She’d anxiously looked forward to her next meeting with Adam Stone, anxiously practiced all the things she’d say to him, how she’d put him in his place.

How she’d make him see her as more than a pawn.

Only he was gone by then, moved away after his father’s death. And she’d forever felt cheated of her big moment.

She’d never forgotten him; she doubted she ever would. Other than her parents, he’d had more influence in her life than any other person.

Damn him, she would not let him do this to her again! She was a mature businesswoman, and she’d behave as such, no matter his provocation.

With her hands fisted in her ruined skirts, she forced a calm tone and said, “I was trying to be cordial, Adam, considering you played the gallant and rescued me.”

He scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You dove in after me,” she reminded him. “You didn’t have to do that, all things considered. The least I can do now is try to be nice.”

He stared, his expression stunned. “Nice?” Then he laughed and dropped his head onto the sand with a groan. He was silent a moment before muttering, “Well, what do you know. You owe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t you? It’s appropriate, don’t you think? My clothes are ruined, and it’s for certain I’ve missed my damned meeting.” He cocked an eye open to look at her. “All because I jumped in to save you.”

“Don’t curse.”

Coming up on one elbow, he growled, “I’ll damn well curse if I want to! You have no idea what missing that meeting means.”

She leaned back, away from the force of his anger. Subdued just a bit, she said, “So tell me.”

He glared at her, then turned his head away. After a second, he plopped back on the sand. “Forget it.”

She shrugged, but since he wasn’t watching her, he didn’t see it. Guilt gnawed at her. “I suppose I do owe you. A little.”

“A lot.”

She sighed. “Very well. I owe you a lot. How much money will you be out because of our...misfortune?”

His gaze turned lethal, and the words were little more than a whisper. “You’re not going to offer me money, are you, sweetheart?”

“But you said I owed you.”

“You owe me gratitude, that’s all. I don’t want your damn money.”

“Oh.” The money would have been so much easier.

He shifted, putting one arm behind his head, watching her, a half smile on his sensuous mouth. “Okay, Mel, since we’re agreed, have at it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go ahead and make me comfortable. That was your original intent, right? I await your efforts.”

He said it like a dare, and her temper pricked. She would not let him, or any other man, intimidate her ever again. So what that he was more muscled now, that maturity made him even more masculine, more sexy? His blond hair was streaked from hours in the sun; his eyes were dark gold. He looked incredible, while she knew she looked a wreck.

It was bad enough that he’d spotted her in the casual outfit she’d chosen for the boat. Her halter and loose, lingerie-style shorts were made of the same silky material, and covered by the long, thin skirts, but she’d still felt too physically exposed to face him. The cabin had been too crowded to hide in, and then she’d realized she didn’t want to hide from him. Not ever again. But she thought he’d be too involved with the women swarming him to notice her.

She’d obviously been wrong.

Now, after her ordeal, she looked wretched. She could feel her eye makeup smeared on her cheeks, knew her short hair stuck out at all angles. She’d lost even more weight over the years; while he was thick with muscle, she was lacking the lush curves men seemed to admire, and in her outfit, there was no way to disguise her figure.

But she couldn’t change any of that, so she’d simply have to make the best of an awkward, unimaginable situation.

Mustering her courage, she again reached for his bag. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be unlatched at the handle; it had to be undone at his belt. The front of his belt. Without looking, she could sense Adam’s smirk. He didn’t think she’d do it; she intended to prove him wrong.

To distract herself from his body, she said, “It’s finally stopped raining.” She slid her fingers under his belt and tried to work the latch.

“It’s going to get hot as hell, you know.”

She felt the heat already. Adam’s stomach was solid rock against the backs of her fingers. And warm. Very warm in comparison to his clammy clothes.

“Humid, too,” he added more softly, his voice a rough growl. “Downright steamy.”

“Will you stop that!”

He gave her an innocent, surprised look. “Stop what?”

“Stop...talking like that. All sexy and low.”

He quirked a brow.

“Oh, forget it. You probably don’t even know when you do it.” The latch came free, and she pulled the strap away, then immediately started on his tie, giving it a good jerk first, making his head bounce in the sand. Before he could reprimand her, she said, “Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve done that. You’re nothing more than walking testosterone, and while some women might like it, I do not.”

She gave the tie another vicious jerk, loosening the knot, and he grabbed her hands. “Will you stop before you strangle me! Damn, woman, I was discussing the weather, and somehow you got on the topic of my hormones!”

Melanie jerked away and came awkwardly to her feet. She shoved her tangled hair out of her face and tried again to untwist her long, wet skirts. After a moment of futile effort, she gave up. Propping her hands on her hips, she said, “I brought it up because that’s all you are! Male hormones waiting to burst.” She threw her arms wide in apt description.

Adam slowly sat up and had his elbows resting on his bent knees, his head cocked to stare directly at her. “Is that right? Well, I’d say that puts you in something of a predicament then, doesn’t it.”

Warily, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I hate to break it to you. No, actually I’m glad to break it to you. This little island appears to be deserted. We’re all alone—just you, me, and my bursting hormones.” He grinned wickedly. “For who knows how long?”

Frozen for three heartbeats, Melanie stared at him. Then she scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s true.” Adam stood, brushed off his muscled backside and looked around. “You weren’t paying any attention, but when I first spotted the island we were still pretty far out. I could damn near see it from end to end, and not once did I see any sign of life. Not a kid, not a dog, not a single soul.”

“You’re just trying to scare me.”

“Nope. The last thing I want is a hysterical woman on my hands.” He peeled off his suit coat and shook it out, then tossed it onto a clump of dry, prickly-looking grass. He did the same with his shoes and socks. “I’m only hoping we’ll be able to find some kind of food and water.”

“Adam, stop it.” She glared at him from under lowered brows. Her heart raced; her stomach felt queasy. “There are no deserted islands in Florida anymore. It’s a tourist mecca. This is just your way of being mean again.”

He took two quick steps to her and caught her chin in his hand. “I’m a grown man, damn it. I don’t run around trying to frighten women or be mean. Do you honestly think anyone on that boat will notice us missing? Do you think they’ll even know where to look for us? How long do you think it’ll be before we’re missed?”

The second he touched her, her tongue became useless. She couldn’t muster up a single word or protest. Her heartbeat slowed; her breath caught.

Damn, she felt vulnerable! She’d so wanted to make an impression on him after she saw him on the boat. She’d been planning and plotting on when she’d introduce herself, what she’d say, how she’d say it to let him know without a single doubt that she would no longer be bothered by him, that she was a woman now, totally immune to him.

But then she’d gone overboard, and he’d done the unexpected and dove in after her. She thought of how she’d acted in the water and wanted to dig a hole in the sand to hide. Now here she was, insulting him, baiting him, reacting to him.

She jerked her chin away. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I... No one will notice me missing. I came alone and I wasn’t exactly friendly to anyone on the boat.”

“You came alone?”

Oh, why did he have to focus on that one small tidbit? She hadn’t even meant to admit that much. She put her chin in the air and said, “Yes. Alone.”

He looked her over slowly from head to toe, made a grunting sound, then turned away and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I figured you’d be married to some young yuppie executive type by now.”

If all had gone as planned, she would have been. Thank God she’d called it off in time.

When Adam shrugged out of his shirt, at first all she could do was stare at his chest. Hard, lean, covered with a light dusting of hair a shade or two darker than his golden head, it was the type of chest female fantasies were made of. When his hands went to the buttons on his slacks, her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. In a croak, she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Without looking at her, he said, “You don’t expect me to go exploring our little island in suit pants, do you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. The pants were shoved down, and she whirled around so fast her head swam. But she hadn’t been quite quick enough. She saw snug cotton boxer briefs—wet briefs—molded closely to his lower body. The man was a total fiend.

“Adam,” she said, doing her best to keep her tone calm and reasonable, “put your pants back on.”

“No way. If you had any sense, you’d lose that skirt.”

She clutched her skirts protectively to her body. “I will do no such thing!”

“Suit yourself. But I don’t think it’ll hold up long if you don’t wash the salt water out of it and let it air dry.”

He had a point, not that she intended to disrobe in front of him. It didn’t matter that she wore matching shorts beneath the skirt and underwear under that. Her ex-fiancé had told her numerous times that she needed to put on weight, to gain some curves. And toward the end, she’d finally realized he didn’t find her attractive at all. Oh, he put up a good front, and he tried. Jerry was always pleasant, mannerly, proper. That was one of the reasons she’d broken things off with him; he seemed more emotionless every day, like he had no depth, at least not where she was concerned.

She’d come here to rest, to get control of her emotions after the painful breakup. Ha! Controlling her emotions around Adam had always been impossible.

It was imperative she carry her own weight, that she prove to him her little display in the water was an aberration. She could and would fend for herself.

She was still figuring ways to do that when his warm breath touched the back of her neck. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching!

“One thing hasn’t changed, I see.”

Melanie froze, not daring to move in case his mouth actually touched her skin—in which case she knew she’d likely faint. Her every nerve ending felt stretched tight with him so close. Even her fingertips tingled. “What?”

“You’re still a shy little thing.”

But she wasn’t shy. She was just...affected by him. She’d always been affected by him. He made her nervous and tongue-tied and loopy. From the first day she’d seen him, he’d look at her and her stomach would do flips. Forcing herself to turn, she had her mouth open with a scathing retort when she remembered his state of undress.

Oh, my. Her lips wouldn’t move. As to that, neither would her eyes; they stayed glued on the bare, very male body he presented. Her imagination hadn’t done him justice.

Adam chucked her chin. “Come on. We’ll walk along the shore a bit and see if we can find any signs of habitation.”

He moved away from her, and she stared, heart racing, as he sauntered to his bag and picked it up. He left his discarded clothes lying amid the long, dry grass. As he went past her again, he whistled a jaunty tune.

If she’d found a rock, she’d have thrown it at his head. Frustrated, annoyed and somewhat intrigued, Melanie hurried to catch up.

As Adam had said, many things had changed. But one thing that hadn’t was his appeal. The man still had it in spades. And though she hated to admit it, she’d never been immune.

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