Page 14 of Viper

One glance down revealed her breast half out. Her cheeks tingled, and she quickly slapped her palm down to pin the tattered dress to her chest. She shook her head. Was she all right? Hardly. “I just— Why are you here? How?”

He rubbed his hand over his hair. “I . . . can’t get into that right now. Come on. Let’s get off this fucking beach.” The terse note in his voice reminded her all over again that he likely didn’t want to be here.

“Go ahead,” she said, flicking her wrist. “Tell me I’m an idiot. We’re both thinking it.”

A scowl etched his face. “The hell are you talking about?”

“I’m an idiot. For being with him.” She gestured once again, this time at the ocean they’d just crawled out of. “A stranger. Alone. Come on, Atlas didn’t give me hell yet, so you might as well.”

With shame, she dropped her gaze to stare at the smooth, powdery sand. She wished a sinkhole would open up and suck her in.

He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and shifted her face up to look at him. He shook his head. “I’m not going to give you hell, Paige.”

His stare blazed with ferocity. He stood so close, only millimeters away. She leaned into him so her belly touched his front. Call it stupidity or even desperation, but god she just needed to touch him.

He brought his other hand to her back. It was so large and warm that she had to fight a moan. “I’m angry. Not at you. Got it?”

She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Curiosity crackled in her head, but she didn’t dare speak the questions hovering there. Shivers took hold of her muscles—either from the sexy, muscular man pressed against her curves, or shock.

He smoothed his hand up and down her back. “Never at you,” he added. “Are you hurt?”

She swallowed. “I— He was going to kill me.”

The statement was unnecessary. Obvious. But she couldn’t bring herself to elaborate on what had happened.

“I wanted to kill him so fucking badly,” he spat.

She jolted. “He’s alive?”

Troy harumphed. “Cocksucker ended up pushing me overboard. I almost had a clear shot at him when he threw chum in the water.”

She inhaled sharply and gripped his sides. “Oh my god.”

The memory of treading water and watching that madman stand on his boat with the silver bucket would forever be branded on her mind. Guilt hit her. She might not know why Troy was in Florida, but he’d come to Craig’s boat for her.

And he could have died.

He brought his palm to her hair and ran it down over her head. “I needed to get you out of the water. That’s why I snapped. I’m sorry.”

His gaze ravaged her face and something shifted. He backed away so their bodies were no longer touching, but quickly grasped her hand. “Come on. Let’s get off this beach.” He led her toward the parking lot.

“Wait. Your paddleboard.”

He didn’t look back. “Leave it.”

Sand pelted her bare ankles. The breeze lifted and swirled around her exposed skin.

He glanced down at her and then quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve got a dry shirt in the car. I’m not parked far.” His pace picked up.

Minutes later they reached a gravel parking lot. In one quick motion, he bent and swooped her into his hold.

She gasped and clutched his shoulder. “Troy, what are you⁠—”

“There could be glass.”

Too tired to fight him, she relaxed. He carried her easily, his broad form striding across the parking lot. He approached the driver’s side of a truck and reached into the wheel well. Adjusting his grip on her, he picked up a small device and hit a button. A lock clicked.