Barbara Dunlop - Millionaire in a Stetson

“I don’t blame her.” Sawyer meant it.

“Join us for a dip,” Caleb invited.

Sawyer glanced down at his blue jeans and boots. “I’m not really …” Then he decided, to hell with it. He wasn’t shy about his black boxers. And this was exactly the kind of excuse he needed to hang around. “Sure,” he amended. “Why not?”

Caleb grinned. “That’s the spirit. We’re about to start a game of water polo. There’s a stack of towels in the gazebo.”

By the time Sawyer had stripped off his outer clothes and made his way to the bay, there were at least a dozen people positioning themselves in the water for the game. It turned out to be a modified version of regular water polo, with a volley ball and two floating nets. His navy background gave him an edge, but Caleb, who was on Sawyer’s team, and Reed, on the opposite team, were both strong players. Reed, in particular, could effortlessly lob the ball from one end of the makeshift court to the other.

Niki was on the opposite team, and she turned out to be a surprisingly strong swimmer. So, when she and Sawyer both went after a long pass, he had to kick it up a notch to stay ahead. He beat her by a couple of feet, just before the ball would have been grabbed by the current out in the main channel of the river. He snagged it and quickly tossed it back to his teammate Mandy, who put it into play to the cheers and shouts of both teams.

He’d just launched himself to swim back, when Niki gasped.

He twisted his head to look back.

“Oh, no,” she cried as the current grabbed her.

She stroked hard against it, legs kicking beneath the surface. Her eyes went wide as the current won and began to tow her away.

Sawyer lunged for her, swimming fast and hard, until he could grab her by the arm.

“My leg’s cramping,” she gasped. The water was much colder now that they were out of the bay.

Sawyer wrapped an arm around her waist, flipping her into a rescue position. “Relax,” he instructed. “I’ve got you. I’m going to take us into shore.”

To her credit, she didn’t panic.

He glanced at the crowd in the water polo game. Reed had seen her flounder, and was beginning to make his way over to help.

“It’s good,” Sawyer shouted to him. “I’ve got her.” He gave Reed a thumbs up, just as the current dragged the two of them around a bend. The water-polo game disappeared from sight.

Going with the current, he managed to angle himself and Niki toward the bay. “You okay?” he asked her.

She was gritting her teeth. “My left calf is seized up.”

“That’s the cold water. Just give me a minute here.”

He glanced around to gauge their situation. The white water told him where there were rocks beneath the surface, but he could see a safe route he could use to get them to shore.

“Sure,” she hissed between her clenched teeth. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for not making this any harder.”

“Thank you for rescuing me.”

“My pleasure.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it was exactly what you had in mind for your day today.”

They were getting close to shore now, in a place where the current was weaker. “I trained for this in the navy,” he told her. “It’s probably good to keep my skills sharp.”

As he spoke, he became aware of how her body was cradled against his, the slick, smooth skin of her midriff, her rear end rubbing against his body, and her pert breasts bobbing above the water. It had sure never been like this in the navy.

His feet touched the rocky bottom, but he kept her in his arms, turning her sideways to more easily hold her.

“It’s warmer here,” she noted, voice still strained.

“Shallower, and less current flowing through. The sun warms the water. How’s your leg?”

“Pretty sore.”

He ran his fingertips along the back of her left calf, easily finding the bunched muscle. “Here?”

“Ouch. Yes.”

He rubbed the area experimentally with the pad of his thumb, zeroing in on the knot. She moaned, arms tightening around his neck.

“Helping?” he asked.

“Yes,” she hissed, pressing her face into his wet shoulder.

He massaged slightly harder, and she clung tighter.

“Stretch your toes up,” he instructed. “Arch your foot.”

She did as he asked, and he kept up the circular motion. He could feel her muscle begin to soften under his fingers, and she relaxed against his chest.

He knew he could stop anytime. He’d probably given her as much relief as he could for the moment. But he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to hold her against his body a little longer, or maybe a lot longer, maybe forever.

He stole a glance at her face.

She was gazing up at him, those huge green eyes soft in the dappled sunlight. Her lips were dark and full, rosy cheeks damp with water droplets. She had the thickest lashes he’d ever seen. He couldn’t believe a woman could possibly be this beautiful. She was like a spell, holding him enthralled.

The warm wind whispered against them, wafting the scents of pine and clover. The aspen leaves rustled above. The sound of the others’ voices blending away in the distance. Her skin grew warm against his own, and the noise of the water lapping around them seemed softer.

He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything so badly in his life. It was stupid and wrong and colossally risky. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He bent his head.

She didn’t shy away. In fact, she stretched to meet him. Their cool lips touched, flaring instantly to heat. His lips parted. Hers followed in turn. She was sweet as fresh honey, soft as dew.

His arms tightened around her, and he felt her body arch against him. He was instantly aroused, desperate to possess her. His tongue delved deep. Hers answered, and she moaned against his mouth, her hands tangling in his wet hair.

They were wearing practically nothing. It would be so quick, so easy, so intensely satisfying to strip off their suits and become one.

But faraway shouts penetrated his hearing, and he ruthlessly reminded himself where he was, who she was and what was at stake.

With a superhuman effort, he ended their kiss. Fixing his focus on the far shore, he dragged gulps of oxygen into his lungs.

“I’m sorry.” He glanced down.

Her sexy vulnerability was almost his undoing.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he told her sincerely.

She was silent for a long moment. “It’s complicated,” she finally whispered.

“It’s simple,” he returned, struggling to keep it light. “Fear and pain produce intense emotional reactions. Sometimes our bodies don’t know what to do with those emotions.”

“You think that’s what just happened?”

“I know that’s what just happened.” Not that it had ever happened to him before. Not like this, anyway. Her kiss had all but blown his mind.

She quirked a little half smile. “So, you’re not really a good kisser.”

“No better than average.” He found his gaze dropping to her mouth, and he recognized just how desperately he wanted to do it again.

“That was average?”

Steeling himself against temptation, it took him a second to answer. “Yeah. That was average.”

Her eyes took on a mischievous sparkle. “Then you must have a pretty fabulous sex life, Sawyer Smith.”

His gut clenched. “Do you always play with fire, Nellie Cooper?”

“I never play with fire.” She paused. Her expression going thoughtful. “I’ve never met fire before.”

Every muscle in Sawyer’s body was instantly taut. She was beyond good. When it came to seduction, this woman could write the book. Or maybe she’d read the book. Her mother’s book.