Heart in her throat, she looked around for cover. There were no trees handy. Just an old barn across the road and the loch. Too cold to contemplate going back into the arctic water, she raced across the road, up a short drive, and yanked open the barn door, shutting it behind her and peeking through the crack to await the passerby.
Either he was losing it—and that could very well be the case—or there was anakedwoman in his barn.
Dev stood frozen, rooted to the spot, wrench in his hand, body pressed against the side of the tractor as he reached toward the motor.
There was a naked woman in his barn.
One who was clutching the door, muttering to herself about never going skinny-dipping again, and shifting from foot to foot with impatience. He tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. His gaze traveled over her trim ankles, slim calves and thighs, to an ass that could make the angels weep. Damn. He almost teared up in appreciation.
Long hair hung down her back in clumpy strands, and water dripped from the ends onto her lower back, wet streaks gliding over those amazing cheeks…
He fumbled the wrench.
Clangs echoed through the barn as the wrench dropped into the motor.
The woman spun around, quickly locating the source of the noise.
Dev straightened slowly, his eyes going wider. Christ it just kept getting better. The front was just as impressive as the back. He tried, he really tried to be a gentleman and not look. But he was momentarily dumbstruck. Blind-sided.
In a delayed reaction, the woman covered her breasts with her arm and hand, and used the other to shield lower.
His heart pounded. His eyes were going to pop out of his head. Did she have to put her handthere?
He wasn't sure if he ever saw anything sexier then this dripping wet goddess with her hands on herself.
And he was just standing there like some teenage virgin idiot as Hamish's truck rattled past the barn—there was no mistaking the sound of that old rust bucket. There wasn't a blanket or cloth in sight unless his work rags counted. Not knowing what else to do, and feeling like he was in some bizarre x-ratedTwilight Zoneepisode, he grabbed the end of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.
"Here." He stepped forward and held it out to her. "You all right?"
She didn't seem afraid or panicked, just highly irritated and wary of her new predicament. She grabbed the shirt, and plastered it against her front. At least it covered the finer points. Just barely.
"Do I look all right to you?"
Wisely, Dev did not comment.
Her eyes lashes were spiky and dark from the water. He was pretty sure even dry, her hair would be black. She had smooth pale skin, dark lips, and blue eyes. He scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling the overgrown stubble on his jaw. He was dirty, his hands and arms streaked with grease and motor oil from working all day on the bloody tractor. The sudden image of his work worn hands on her clean skin made him take a step back.
Get a fucking grip, man.
Her eyes swept over his bare chest. A frown pulled down the corner of her mouth and she fixed him with an arched look.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
The air in the barn became hard to breathe. Blood rushed through his body like a burning freight train. The awareness was so thick and heavy it left him dazed and speechless. It made him wonder if he'd smacked his head on the tractor, and was in a pornographic coma.
"You mind turning around?"
Dev jerked. He spun around, cursing himself. What the hell was wrong with him just standing there ogling her like that? He knew better. She'd just surprised him, knocked his good sense right out the bloody window.
"Thanks for the shirt."
Dev turned around to tell her anytime and apologize for the staring match, but she'd slipped out the door. By the time he flung it wide, she was already in the road and running away.
Chapter 2
Kate wanted nothing more than to put her encounter with the smoking hot Scot behind her. Talk about humiliating. But try as she might, she couldn't get the image of him out of her mind. Not when she'd gone to bed last night. Not when she woke this morning. And not now, when she was riding the bike Lucy had left for her to use.
The guy had such a wild look about him, his wavy hair a little on the long side, his jaw full of attractive scruff. He was tall and broad shouldered and built really, really well. She'd bet his abs were hard as oak planks. A stoic, bad-ass vibe surrounded him, a deep, quiet vibe. It was in his eyes too. She'd just bet that deepness meant he had a ton of baggage. Good thing she'd run as soon as she had. The last thing she needed was more baggage.
