could hold the inner tube in front of her, hiding her bra. Although that seemed kind of childish. Not to mention she couldn’t get in a car like that. She could brazen it out and pretend her bra was a bathing suit top. Why was she being so neurotic?
Because you’re attracted to the man.
Another source of embarrassment. She’d been single less than a week and she was already hot to trot? She wasn’t a prude, as Daisy had suggested, but she wasn’t promiscuous either.
“Get the hell over here!” Devlin shouted to Chloe just as he pulled his grandma out of the water.
Chloe snapped out of her daze, realizing she’d floated under the bridge and was gaining speed. She could feel a difference in the current. Up ahead the river took a sharp turn. Was that Willow Bend? Bert had pleaded with Daisy to end their ride at Willow Bend, nixing the whitewater portion of the ride. She’d agreed, but Bert hadn’t looked convinced. Although as soon as they’d pushed off, Daisy had reassured Chloe—no rapids. Except Daisy wasn’t with her now and she had no idea how close or far she was from the more challenging part of the course.
Her pulse raced remembering when she’d vacationed in Florida with her dad and mom. She’d only been eight at the time. Her swimming skills extended to dog-paddling, so she’d been using one of those old inflatable donuts, something like an inner tube only flimsier, when the undercurrent had swept her far from the beach and …
“Oh … my … God.” She scissor kicked with a vengeance, frantic to get to shore. She felt the oversized trunks slipping down her legs but refused to let go of her two-armed strangle grip on the tube. All she could think about was those rapids somewhere up ahead. Were they as fierce as some of the ones she’d seen on television? What if she went under?
She broke into a sweat even though she was chilled to the bone. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t see Daisy or Devlin. Why wasn’t she getting any closer to shore? She heard her name, heard a splash. She whipped around and saw someone swimming toward her in strong, easy strokes.
Devlin.
In a heartbeat, he was there. With her. Surrounding her.
She felt his arms close around her trembling body. She felt his warmth, his strength.
“You’re swimming against the current,” he said, maneuvering her around and guiding her toward shore. Which really wasn’t all that far, although in her panic it had seemed like miles. It reminded her of how her dad had dove into the ocean and rescued her, but not before a wave had taken her under. She’d been so sure she was going to drown.
Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, Chloe choked on tears.
“You’re okay,” Devlin said, tightening his hold. “Almost there.”
She wanted to thank him. She wanted to apologize for freaking out. But her throat was clogged with embarrassment and relief and the thrill of his touch. If he held her any closer, they’d be one. His masculine scent made her dizzy and the feel of his warm breath on her neck as he continued to talk her down drove her wild. Moments ago she’d gone cold with fear and now … now every fiber of her body burned with desire. How could she be terrified one moment and turned on the next? Were her emotions that out of whack?
Apparently so.
Devlin half-carried her out of the water, before letting her go and easing away.
She swung around to face him, clinging to the inner tube while catching her breath and wits.
He stared.
She stared.
He’d shucked his shoes and socks before diving in, but other than that he was fully clothed. And soaked. His khaki Dockers clung to his muscled thighs and his white oxford shirt melded to his chiseled torso.
Wow.
Frowning, he raked his wet hair from his face—a sexy move that knotted her stomach—then started unbuttoning his shirt.
Face burning, she blurted, “What are you doing?”
He raised a brow in answer, his blue gaze sliding down her trembling body. She realized
Because you’re attracted to the man.
Another source of embarrassment. She’d been single less than a week and she was already hot to trot? She wasn’t a prude, as Daisy had suggested, but she wasn’t promiscuous either.
“Get the hell over here!” Devlin shouted to Chloe just as he pulled his grandma out of the water.
Chloe snapped out of her daze, realizing she’d floated under the bridge and was gaining speed. She could feel a difference in the current. Up ahead the river took a sharp turn. Was that Willow Bend? Bert had pleaded with Daisy to end their ride at Willow Bend, nixing the whitewater portion of the ride. She’d agreed, but Bert hadn’t looked convinced. Although as soon as they’d pushed off, Daisy had reassured Chloe—no rapids. Except Daisy wasn’t with her now and she had no idea how close or far she was from the more challenging part of the course.
Her pulse raced remembering when she’d vacationed in Florida with her dad and mom. She’d only been eight at the time. Her swimming skills extended to dog-paddling, so she’d been using one of those old inflatable donuts, something like an inner tube only flimsier, when the undercurrent had swept her far from the beach and …
“Oh … my … God.” She scissor kicked with a vengeance, frantic to get to shore. She felt the oversized trunks slipping down her legs but refused to let go of her two-armed strangle grip on the tube. All she could think about was those rapids somewhere up ahead. Were they as fierce as some of the ones she’d seen on television? What if she went under?
She broke into a sweat even though she was chilled to the bone. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t see Daisy or Devlin. Why wasn’t she getting any closer to shore? She heard her name, heard a splash. She whipped around and saw someone swimming toward her in strong, easy strokes.
Devlin.
In a heartbeat, he was there. With her. Surrounding her.
She felt his arms close around her trembling body. She felt his warmth, his strength.
“You’re swimming against the current,” he said, maneuvering her around and guiding her toward shore. Which really wasn’t all that far, although in her panic it had seemed like miles. It reminded her of how her dad had dove into the ocean and rescued her, but not before a wave had taken her under. She’d been so sure she was going to drown.
Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, Chloe choked on tears.
“You’re okay,” Devlin said, tightening his hold. “Almost there.”
She wanted to thank him. She wanted to apologize for freaking out. But her throat was clogged with embarrassment and relief and the thrill of his touch. If he held her any closer, they’d be one. His masculine scent made her dizzy and the feel of his warm breath on her neck as he continued to talk her down drove her wild. Moments ago she’d gone cold with fear and now … now every fiber of her body burned with desire. How could she be terrified one moment and turned on the next? Were her emotions that out of whack?
Apparently so.
Devlin half-carried her out of the water, before letting her go and easing away.
She swung around to face him, clinging to the inner tube while catching her breath and wits.
He stared.
She stared.
He’d shucked his shoes and socks before diving in, but other than that he was fully clothed. And soaked. His khaki Dockers clung to his muscled thighs and his white oxford shirt melded to his chiseled torso.
Wow.
Frowning, he raked his wet hair from his face—a sexy move that knotted her stomach—then started unbuttoning his shirt.
Face burning, she blurted, “What are you doing?”
He raised a brow in answer, his blue gaze sliding down her trembling body. She realized
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