AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She shoved her chair back while hearing the man shout at the boy, “That’s a bit long, little man!” then he stumbled against her feet and turned with amazingly sharp reflexes as he tripped her.
“Shit,” he muttered as his strong, quick arms caught her fall, and their eyes met in that infinitesimal second where she was suddenly surrounded by hard, male muscles, holding her aloft in the air. It took only that flash of a second for her to register that she had never seen such beautiful, striking blue eyes in her life.
And that they were equally stunned, and staring straight at her.
“Holy shit, you’re pretty…”
The words seemed to have been torn out of him, and he continued surveying her features in disbelief even as he straightened her. Then, a dazzling smile that was a shock of white against his tan appeared on his drop-dead-gorgeous face, and Peyton’s stomach spun into a swirl. “Sorry about that, miss,” he said, dropping his arms at his sides.
He inclined his shaggy gold head and tipped an invisible hat, and oh, God, that smile made all her woman’s parts go crazy. “Perdón, señorita.”
His timbre was rough around the edges, and it was deep and sensual and it made her heart pound wildly. She was oddly, discomfortingly aware of every inch of skin where he’d touched her.
He wore a small bandage on the left side of his chest, but it did nothing to detract from the beauty of all those lean muscles which included a tight six-pack that made her mouth water. His nipples were dark and small and pointed, flat against his taut pectorals…
“You look a bit winded. Do you need mouth-to-mouth?” He peered into her face while tilting her chin up to his, and Peyton caught her breath again.
His voice, combined with his smile, combined with his eyes, did wild things to her libido. They were clear blue, those eyes, but had streaks of gray in them, and they looked intense and intimate as they studied her.
She wanted to tell him that she hadn’t been drowning and therefore did not need mouth-to-mouth, but now she was drowning in his eyes. And she definitely wanted his mouth.
“I’m…fine.”
“Ah, American…so you understood that.” His expression was all cocky and mischief, not like he was one whit worried about her having heard his offer for “mouth-to-mouth.”
Then it struck her that his painfully handsome face seemed vaguely familiar in a movie star, Hollywood type of way. “Do I know you?” she blurted out.
The wariness that clouded his eyes made her realize she’d said something wrong. “You know me?”
There was surprise in his tone and in his eyes as they slowly studied her features. He seemed to be wondering if he knew her or not, as if he weren’t so certain.
She shook her head to clear it. “Never mind.”
“Good,” he said, his expression relaxing. “Good to know I don’t have Alzheimer’s yet.” He gave her the most gorgeous, lazy smile again. “I’m Luke.” He thrust out a big, lean hand, that smile still making her stomach tumble. “Luke Alexander.”
“Peyton Lane.” She slid her fingers into his grip, and a shock went through her like an electric bolt. He held her hand for a little too long, making her heart beat a little too fast. Then he dropped it, picked up the ball, and when he tucked it under his long arm, her hormones went crazy at the sexy, I’m-all-that pose.
The boy came running over, panting. “Me vas a pasar la bola?”
“Ahorita. Estoy hablando con la señiorita eh!”
“Is he your brother?” Peyton asked, for lack of anything to say. She didn’t understand Spanish except for the basic “toilet” and “yes and no” questions.
“Him? He’s just a little toad I found harassing the pool goers,” he said, then his brows shot up in question. “What? You don’t like him? I can totally get rid of him.”
He grabbed the boy playfully by the hair and made him laugh by poking him in the ribs with the ball.
Peyton smiled but couldn’t miss the way the guy’s muscles flexed each time he poked the little boy, all six-feet-plus of his magnificent body glistening wet.
She could smell the ocean on him, see the sand coating his firm, hair-dusted calves, and her nipples poked harder out of her bikini top.
Which was just embarrassing.
“Nice to meet you both,” she said quickly, then she went to gather her pareo, her hat, her book, and her empty bottle of water.
“Would you like to play ball with us?” he asked.
Her head shot up, the way he phrased it sounding illicit and sinful, and then her cheeks went on fire. She imagined running around catching a slippery ball in her bikini and wanted to bury her head in the sand like an ostrich. “No, thanks.”
