Sara Orwig - Revenge of the Second Son

With effort, she turned away. “Let’s finish this tour or the sun will set before we can swim. I like to see what I’m swimming in.” When he didn’t answer and silence stretched, she was compelled to glance back at him.

As soon as she turned, she found him watching her intently, that smoldering anger back in his expression. Comparing him to a shark was apt—he looked like a predator, a danger to her heart. She had to put distance between them. She didn’t trust his motives and his smooth talk. Seduction? The thought shook her, but she reminded herself that if she let him seduce her, she would probably regret it forever because her emotions would be entangled in the act while she was certain his would not.

“Are we going to continue the tour?”

“Sure,” he said and led the way below to his forward stateroom. In his stateroom, she stepped away from him while she gazed at the king-size berth, navy and white decor and mirrors on the bulkhead. Too clearly, she could imagine him sprawled out in that bed. The image of his broad, bare chest, lean length, hard muscles, flashed hotly, making her grit her teeth.

Drawing a deep breath, she turned to see two large hanging lockers, plush chairs and a desk.

“As you already know, your stateroom is luxurious and beautiful,” she said, glancing at him.

He stood with one shoulder braced against a bulkhead while he watched her. He shrugged lightly. “I don’t spend a lot of time in here. C’mon. I’ll show you the rest.”

She drew a quick breath. The yacht that had appeared so large and accommodating was shrinking with each passing hour. She suspected she and Nick would be together nearly every waking minute and the thought of spending the entire weekend near each other fueled her burning desire.

More aware of Nick than her surroundings, she followed him while he showed her the salon where sunlight streamed in through portholes. He had a game room with a pool table and a plasma television.

When they finished the tour, she returned to her cabin to change to her swimsuit, a black two-piece cut inches below her waist, high over each thigh. It was no more revealing than what many other women wore, but now she longed for a one piece that covered as much of her as possible. The expanses of bare flesh she was presenting would be a come on to Nick.

Why had this weekend seemed such a good idea when she had been alone at home? At that time, she hadn’t factored in the scalding response she had to Nick, a reaction that heightened steadily.

“He’s just another man and one you don’t like very much anyway,” she whispered to herself, yet she knew that wasn’t true. But he wasn’t just another man, and while he angered her, he also appealed to her.

Plaiting her hair into one thick braid, she studied herself in a mirror, turning first one way and then another, knowing she was locked in a contest of wills with him. The outcome of their battle would probably be determined this weekend, no matter what transpired between their lawyers. This was one struggle she intended to win, and the unwanted steamy attraction between her and Nick wasn’t going to get in her way or defeat her.

He was a sexy male with a strong liking for women, so he was approachable. She intended to win him over without selling her soul—or her body—to do it.

“You’re playing with dynamite,” she whispered to herself.

She could resist him because their families had feuded for generations. Her granddad despised Nick, his brother, his father and his grandfather when he had been alive. With that history, she could withstand Nick Ransome’s charm. She just hoped he couldn’t resist cooperating with her.

She wondered what the evening would bring as she went to join him, feeling as if she were diving into water that held a shark.

Her conscience told her that Nick would never resort to a shark’s tactics. He would never attack and devour. There was never need to. Nick’s appeal was the most dangerous kind of all to resist—pure seduction.

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