Good With His Hands

When Pepper looked up, her cheeks burned, and it wasn’t from the sun. Jake had taken his shirt off. She swallowed hard.

With him sitting there half-naked and looking absolutely delicious, concentration became near impossible, but she managed to complete a few more scales. She continued working, scraping away excess sand, leaving plenty for the mermaid’s head and hair, and finally, it was time to start with the details on the upper body.

Pepper stopped for a minute to give her back a break. “It’s your turn,” she told Jake.

He held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m not very creative. I don’t think you want me to get my hands into your sand.”

That was for sure. She wanted Jake’s hands elsewhere. Everywhere, in fact. His fingers were large. Manly. They looked as though they’d seen a lot of hard work. Pepper took one of them in hers and squeezed. It was firm and strong.

“Liar,” she said. “You’re an architect. You wouldn’t be in business if you weren’t creative.”

Jake gave a nervous laugh. “I guess what I really meant is that I haven’t had much experience using sand as a building material.”

“It’s easy once you get started.” Pepper looked him squarely in the eyes. “And I’ve got everything you need. Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you.”

“I’m sure that’s true.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Pepper’s mouth as an idea formed in her head. She crawled around the base of the sculpture and sat close to him. “First,” she said, “we need to finish these two small mounds.” She added a small nob of sand to the top of one and told Jake to do the same to the other.

He gathered a small bit of sand between his fingers and set it on top of the mound, rolling it and tweaking it just so, until it closely resembled the one Pepper had finished.

Oh, how Pepper wished she were that mermaid right now.

When Jake finished his assigned task, she sat back and gave it her appraisal. “Perfect,” she said.

Jake nodded and smiled. He’d just gotten the joke. “Breasts.”

“You’re very perceptive.” Pepper looked up at him through long lashes. “Shall we continue?”

Jake leaned back onto his forearms, his biceps and chest glistening in the morning sun. Dark brown hair fanned out from the center of his chest, with a thin line running halfway down his stomach. Pepper hadn’t seen muscles ripple like that in, well, forever. It’d be awfully nice to have a few clients like him in her kickboxing class.

She offered him the melon baller. “Want to, um, try making some scales?”

“I’d rather work on her hair.” Jake reached up and tugged playfully at the lock of hair that hung alongside Pepper’s face.

“Um, maybe we should stop for now. Go inside, get cleaned up.” Pepper knew that if she didn’t get away from Jake’s bare chest in the next few seconds, she might do something very enjoyable...like dive on top of him...

“Intriguing story…amusing and energizing.”
—Romance Junkies

“A ride that is over way too quickly…”
—Madelyn Hill, author of THE SPANISH CONQUEST

“A well-crafted, satisfying read…an impressive debut novel.”
—Christine DeSmet, author and screenwriter

Kisses Don't Lie

Carter reached a hand up to the back of Bailey's head and snapped her hair band. Waves of dark brown hair cascaded down and floated about her shoulders. She ran her tongue across her lips, wetting them, but they quickly dried in the Las Vegas heat. He didn't wait for her to wet them again. He pressed his mouth firmly over hers and kept it there until she felt her knees go weak. The Bellagio's fountains provided just enough breeze to keep her conscious but, still, she had to grip the rail to keep from sliding all the way down to the pavement.

"Put your arms around me," Carter told her in an even tone.

An elderly woman standing nearby smiled at Bailey. She looked envious.

Bailey let go of the rail and wrapped her arms around Carter, but her brain was wrapped elsewhere—around the fact that her ability to resist him was crumbling. If she'd had any questions as to what his intentions were, they were quickly answered when he pressed his body to hers.

In a rush of anger, mostly at herself for letting his charm and sultry brute force get to her, Bailey pushed away from him—just a couple of inches, so that her brain could function.

Think. She pressed fingers to both sides of her temples. You can't continue holding this man at bay by batting your eyelashes and acting like you don't know what he wants. Bailey's mind scrambled for a solution. Anything...something that would shock Carter into backing off. She looked up into his eyes. They were heavy with his seductive energy.

She was a goner.

Taking a mental look skyward, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. "I'm a virgin."

The elderly woman standing nearby looked startled and Bailey didn't blame her, because even she was startled.

Where the heck had that come from?

Carter loosened his grip. He gave her a long stare, until finally, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his mouth spread into a full smile.

Bailey bit her lip. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected. Or hoped for. He was amused, pleased even. Jeez, what had she done?

“A hunka, hunka burnin' fun!”
— Geralyn Dawson, USA Today bestselling author