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I reached for the jellyfish once more, ignoring any trepidation over the mere idea of touching the slimy thing. It was creepy looking. Just a giant blob with tentacles. But anything was better than enduring the burning that grew more excruciating with every second.
“If you do that, it’ll sting your hands, too,” he barked in an Australian accent. “Jellyfish don’t have a brain. Or eyes. So they sting anything they encounter.” He knelt in front of me and splashed ocean water over my leg.
To my surprise, most of the tentacles fell away.
“Stubborn bastard,” he muttered in a rugged, deep baritone that was a little rough around the edges.
While his intense gaze remained focused on my leg, I took the opportunity to study his features. Square chin that sculptors would love to chisel into stone. Proud nose. Full lips. What appeared to be a week’s worth of growth along his jawline. Clear, blue eyes so haunting they sent a shiver through me.
Which only increased when he unzipped his wetsuit to his waist, treating me to a physique that should be criminal. Broad shoulders. Sculpted chest. Defined abs. And that delicious little V disappearing into the bottom of his wetsuit. This man was a walking Adonis. But he didn’t seem to realize it. Or perhaps he didn’t care.
Using the sleeve of his suit, he managed to peel the remaining tentacles from my leg before nudging the jellyfish back into the water.
“Do you have any tweezers or a razor on you?” he asked evenly.
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
He grunted and unzipped a hidden pouch in his wetsuit, pulling out a hotel keycard. Then he scooted forward, propping my leg in his lap. When he dug the card into my skin, I winced and attempted to pull my leg back, but he tightened his grip on me.
“Don’t.” His voice was almost a growl. “I have to clean out the barbs.”
“Bobs?”
“Barbs,” he enunciated, forcing his accent to sound more American. “Stingers.”
I nodded. While this may have been my first experience with a jellyfish, I was no stranger to bee stings. My meemaw often joked that I must have been made of honey since bees always seemed to be attracted to me. And each time, Meemaw had to pull out the stinger lodged in my skin in order for the pain to subside.
Based on the intense throbbing in my foot and leg, I had a feeling I was dealing with more than just one stinger this time.
He brought the card back up to me. I squeezed my eyes shut, exhaling through the ache. It had been a while since I’d been stung by a bee, but I didn’t remember it hurting like this. Back then, my meemaw often started talking about something that piqued my interest. I needed that kind of distraction now, too.
“Where are you from?” I asked through my labored breathing, clenching my jaw as he forced out yet another stinger.
“Melbourne originally.” His answer was clipped. Apparently, he wasn’t a big conversationalist.
“What brings you to Hawaii?”
“I’m certainly not here by choice,” he grumbled.
When he dug the key card into my skin even harder, I yelped, but he didn’t care, continuing what he was doing without concern. He’d make a pretty shitty doctor, if you asked me.
“I’m here for work, too,” I offered sweetly.
He lifted his eyes to mine, parting his lips, a response seemingly on the tip of his tongue. Then he shook it off.
“I’m not here for work.”
“Oh.” My expression fell. If he wasn’t here by choice, but it wasn’t because of work, what did that mean? “What are—”
“I think I got them all,” he interjected gruffly, lowering my leg back to the sand as he stood and extended his hand. I studied it for a beat, then eventually placed mine in his.
His scent teased my senses as he bent and wrapped his arm around my waist, helping me to my feet. Leather. Citrus. And something else I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Once he was certain I had my balance, he dropped his hold. I tilted my head back, taking in the full effect of his physique.
He was much taller than me, which wasn’t that big a feat, considering I was only five-two. Couple his height with his muscular build, and I couldn’t help but feel tiny compared to him. He was like Thor come down from Asgard to bless us mere mortals with his presence.
It didn’t hurt this man bore a slight resemblance to Chris Hemsworth. And his brother, Liam. I couldn’t decide which one he looked more like. He definitely had Chris’ bulk, yet Liam’s features. Did it matter, though? They were both ridiculously attractive.
