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He turned away, let out a long breath and couldn’t wait to hit the water. He just hoped it would be cold enough, he thought as he followed her down a short path to a secluded stretch of beach, the sun golden over the top of the palms.
Running past her, he dove into the surf. As hot as he was, it felt icy, but as he surfaced and looked back at Willa, he realized the dip had done little to cool his desire for her.
What was wrong with him? He’d gone all these years without needing anyone. Hell, he hadn’t seen his family in months. Talk about a loner.
So now he was going to let some South Dakota farm girl twist him all up inside? A virgin farm girl, he thought with a grin as he waded toward her.
He plopped down on the beach and squinted out at the Gulf. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her drop her beach cover and walk slowly into the surf. He closed his eyes and lay back in the sand, concentrating on each breath the way he did when he was shooting a sniper rifle.
Over the sound of the surf, the breeze in the palms overhead and the cry of seagulls on the rocks nearby, he heard her return from the water and lay down on the sand next to him.
The sun beat down on his bare chest, legs and arms. He tried to concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly, carefully, too aware of her next to him.
Whose stupid idea had this been? A secluded beach in paradise? What had he been thinking? At the time he’d thought anything was better than staying another minute in that small apartment with her.
He flinched as a cool damp fingertip touched his shoulder. Eyes still closed, he felt her shadow fall over him only an instant before her lips brushed his.
He opened his eyes and looked into a whole lot of blue. He’d been able to read her from the first time he’d seen her. She was incapable of hiding her feelings. Even her thoughts. Just as she wasn’t hiding any now.
He groaned and cupped the back of her head as he brought her mouth down to his again.
She tasted salty, her palm cool as she rested it on his chest. He parted her lips with his tongue and drew her down on him, her cool body on his sun-hot one as he kissed her deeply, aroused by her lush body clad in the still-wet old-fashioned two-piece swimsuit.
As he freed her of the two-piece suit, he rolled over so he was on top. Tossed the suit aside—top and bottom—Her eyes widened a little as he pressed his chest to hers. She felt so good.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this. She must have seen his moment of hesitation.
“Are you sure about this, St. Clair?”
“I need a man who doesn’t own any sheep,” she said on a breath.
He grinned down at her. Damn, she was sexy as hell in that innocent, naive South Dakota way of hers. “What you need, darlin’, is a man who can promise you tomorrow. I’m not that man.”
“Don’t go gallant on me now,” she said, and grinned up at him. “I want you to be my first. Set the bar for those other poor fools.”
He didn’t want to even think about another man making love to this woman. He dropped his mouth to hers, stunned by the sensation of just kissing her, and all the while telling himself that this wouldn’t change anything between them.
* * *
WILLA HAD OFTEN dreamed of the first time a man would make love to her. Frustration and fear combined. But kissing Landry, she let herself enjoy the feel of him, the new sensations that sent shock waves through her body, tremors of exquisite pleasure. She’d challenged him and he’d taken it. No other man would ever be able to surpass this, she thought as he dropped his mouth to her breast and she felt his wonderfully talented tongue begin its journey over her body.
After that, she had no clear thoughts. He touched and licked and caressed and kissed, leaving trails of heat up and down her body. She gasped, sometimes out of shock at the places he went, the things he did, until she lost herself entirely in the building volcano he’d started inside her.
And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he made her explode, showered every cell in her body with pleasure as she quaked in the aftermath.
Then he kissed her, held her and started all over again. This time as she clung to him, he entered her. She felt a sharp jab of pain, then slowly he took her higher and higher until she could no longer hold back, the two of them, their bodies locked in ecstasy on her swimsuit cover, the warm sand beneath.
He rolled to the side, taking her with him, pressing her face into the sweaty warmth of his chest. She breathed him in so she never forgot his scent, the feel of him, the sound of his voice next to her ear. She never wanted to forget.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Hmm,” she said. “I just feel sorry for those other men. That will be a hard act to follow.” She giggled and tried to remember a time she felt this wonderful. “Not even Christmas in South Dakota could top this.”
He chuckled, a deep throaty sound, and pulled her closer. She sensed a sadness in him. Did he feel guilty for taking her virginity? She smiled at the thought, grateful to him, not that she would ever tell him that. But it made her wonder if Landry Jones wasn’t as tough as he let on. She let herself drift in a cloud of contentment, forgetting for a while that anyone wanted her dead.
* * *
HE MUST HAVE dozed off. Landry woke with a start as cold water dropped on his chest, on his face. He reached for the gun he’d wrapped up in his T-shirt as he squinted up at the dark silhouette standing over him.
