Lori Foster - UP In Flames - Body Heat / Caught in the Act

If all had gone as planned, she would have been. Thank God she’d called it off in time.

When Adam shrugged out of his shirt, at first all she could do was stare at his chest. Hard, lean, covered with a light dusting of hair a shade or two darker than his golden head, it was the type of chest female fantasies were made of. When his hands went to the buttons on his slacks, her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. In a croak, she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Without looking at her, he said, “You don’t expect me to go exploring our little island in suit pants, do you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. The pants were shoved down, and she whirled around so fast her head swam. But she hadn’t been quite quick enough. She saw snug cotton boxer briefs—wet briefs—molded closely to his lower body. The man was a total fiend.

“Adam,” she said, doing her best to keep her tone calm and reasonable, “put your pants back on.”

“No way. If you had any sense, you’d lose that skirt.”

She clutched her skirts protectively to her body. “I will do no such thing!”

“Suit yourself. But I don’t think it’ll hold up long if you don’t wash the salt water out of it and let it air dry.”

He had a point, not that she intended to disrobe in front of him. It didn’t matter that she wore matching shorts beneath the skirt and underwear under that. Her ex-fiancé had told her numerous times that she needed to put on weight, to gain some curves. And toward the end, she’d finally realized he didn’t find her attractive at all. Oh, he put up a good front, and he tried. Jerry was always pleasant, mannerly, proper. That was one of the reasons she’d broken things off with him; he seemed more emotionless every day, like he had no depth, at least not where she was concerned.

She’d come here to rest, to get control of her emotions after the painful breakup. Ha! Controlling her emotions around Adam had always been impossible.

It was imperative she carry her own weight, that she prove to him her little display in the water was an aberration. She could and would fend for herself.

She was still figuring ways to do that when his warm breath touched the back of her neck. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching!

“One thing hasn’t changed, I see.”

Melanie froze, not daring to move in case his mouth actually touched her skin—in which case she knew she’d likely faint. Her every nerve ending felt stretched tight with him so close. Even her fingertips tingled. “What?”

“You’re still a shy little thing.”

But she wasn’t shy. She was just...affected by him. She’d always been affected by him. He made her nervous and tongue-tied and loopy. From the first day she’d seen him, he’d look at her and her stomach would do flips. Forcing herself to turn, she had her mouth open with a scathing retort when she remembered his state of undress.

Oh, my. Her lips wouldn’t move. As to that, neither would her eyes; they stayed glued on the bare, very male body he presented. Her imagination hadn’t done him justice.

Adam chucked her chin. “Come on. We’ll walk along the shore a bit and see if we can find any signs of habitation.”

He moved away from her, and she stared, heart racing, as he sauntered to his bag and picked it up. He left his discarded clothes lying amid the long, dry grass. As he went past her again, he whistled a jaunty tune.

If she’d found a rock, she’d have thrown it at his head. Frustrated, annoyed and somewhat intrigued, Melanie hurried to catch up.

As Adam had said, many things had changed. But one thing that hadn’t was his appeal. The man still had it in spades. And though she hated to admit it, she’d never been immune.

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