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Holy hell.
This can’t be happening, getting felt up by a total stranger and enjoying it.
Some crazy instinct flips on in my head.
Before I can think, my hand flies across his face, connecting with warm flesh.
My palms are needles and—and I’ve just slapped Mystery Man.
I inhale sharply.
“Oh, crap. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry I lashed out. I never meant to hit you like that. I just got carried away when you started feeling around for—”
What, exactly?
Maybe I screwed up, misread him, even if he was breaching my personal space.
“For what?” he demands coldly, reaching down into the leather duffel bag at his feet.
My toes curl in my sandals as I watch him pack up his gear.
Okay. So he may be touchy-feely, but I’m not a total bitch.
“Look, if it’s just one drink, then maybe—”
“Forget it,” he clips. “I’m gonna bounce. I can always party on beaches with people who don’t shit diamonds anytime. Sorry to bust your fairy-tale bubble, princess.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides.
“Ugh, will you stop calling me that?” I shake with frustration. “Dude, you can have your drink. For the record, I didn’t mean it, just like I didn’t mean to chew you out and ruin your night.”
“For the record,” he spits back, all green-eyed challenge. “It’s awful fucking difficult keeping my hands to myself when I see a firecracker in front of me.”
Dead.
I actually tilt back a little before my balance catches me at the last second.
Just in time, too, because he flashes me a smile too good for this world, complete with dimples.
My heart dives as I watch him stow his scuba gear. The zipper echoes loudly through the night, and then he’s standing, marching away with something tucked under one arm.
Clearing my throat, I run after him and gently reach for his shoulder.
He whirls around when he feels my touch, holding a fresh change of clothes.
“What? You didn’t get a big enough eyeful the first time?” he snarls.
“I’m trying to benice.I’m not as rude as you think and you’re not unwelcome here,” I say with a sigh. “Look, I get it. You think I’m a snob—daddy’s spoiled little princess or whatever—but if you want...we’ve got an open bar and there’ll be music for a few more hours. It’s no big if you want to hang around and have a few drinks. Be my guest.”
He raises his brows, moving his eyes slowly up and down my body.
“You’re serious, huh?”
I nod firmly.
I’m not sure what makes my heart race faster—the guilty conscience I’m trying so hard to appease by taking a gamble on him or watching how his tattooed muscles flex when he drops his pants and boxers, ready to roll them on.
He hesitates for a long second, the silence eating me alive.
