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Why shouldn’t they further their relationship? she reasoned.
As he’d rightly pointed out, who were they going to hurt? They were both consenting adults and neither of them was involved with anyone else. They found each other attractive. It was a relatively simple situation.
Except that it didn’t feel simple.
It didn’t feel simple at all.
Neither did dressing for the beach barbecue. The problem with being a GP in a small, tight-knit community, Anna reflected as she stared at the dress that she’d laid out on her bed, was that you were always in the spotlight and your behaviour had to be above reproach. She could never risk getting drunk in public or making an exhibition of herself.
Did the outfit she’d chosen classify as making an exhibition of herself?
She fingered the fabric gingerly. She’d bought the dress as a joke. To provoke Sam. But things had moved on and now she had a feeling that she’d be provoking a reaction entirely different from the one she’d originally anticipated.
A womanly smile spread across her face and she lifted the dress.
Impulse.
Wasn’t that what Sam had said?
Well, this dress had definitely been an impulse buy, purchased after he’d made that comment about her not being sufficiently ‘girly’.
And she was going to wear it.
* * *
She was wearing hot pink.
Sam felt his tongue almost fall out of his mouth as Anna walked out of the house onto the deck. Her silky dark hair was caught up on top of her head, her perfect mouth highly glossed. Her legs were long and lightly tanned and the heels she was wearing looked as though they should come with a health warning.
She paused and angled her head. ‘Say something, McKenna.’
He swallowed and dragged his eyes away from her legs. ‘You don’t wear pink, Riggs.’
‘Tonight I’m wearing pink.’
He ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘Is it hot tonight, or is it me?’
She gave a slow smile that made his hormones shriek in protest. ‘It’s hot. That’s why I chose to wear a cool dress.’
‘There is nothing cool about that dress, Riggs,’ he said hoarsely, licking his lips and wondering how long he was expected to keep his hands to himself. ‘This beach barbecue. Is it something you particularly want to go to?’
He was willing her to say no, but she shot him an amused look, her brown eyes teasing. ‘It’s the event of our pitiful social calendar, McKenna. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s my only chance to go out.’
Which meant that she was going to make him wait.
His eyes were fastened on the dress. It looked simple enough. So why did it cling and hug and skim so cleverly? ‘I’m not sure you should be going out dressed like that.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t normally.’ She paused to fiddle with the tiny strap of the dress. ‘But someone told me that I should be more impulsive so I thought I’d give it a go. And you have to record a piece to camera, if I recall, all about responsible partying and safe sex.’
Sam ran a hand over his face and tried to think about suitably sober situations. And freezing cold showers. Anything to try and subdue his reactions, which were rapidly spiralling out of control.
‘Polly is waiting on the beach for you.’ She walked towards the steps, the smooth swing of her hips drawing his eye. ‘Let’s move.’
Sam swallowed and hoped they were planning to film him from the waist up. Otherwise he was in trouble.
* * *
‘Cut.’ Polly walked over to Sam, ignoring the crowd that was gathering around them. It was dark on the beach, a large bonfire was blazing and the barbecue was sending out the most tempting smells imaginable, and still people just wanted to watch the filming. ‘Are you all right? It’s not like you to fluff it.’
