say so.”
* * *
Shane ducked into a Marks & Spencer’s where he’d find everything he needed. At the front of the chain store on the left was women’s wear, and Shane smiled at the flashes of turquoises, blues, and whites strewn across the mannequins, the shelves, and the racks. They reminded him of a tropical sea.
What should he get her? He didn’t know anything about Hunter, and he had no idea what clothes she wore. Should he get jeans? A flowery dress? Highly unlikely, judging by the black nail polish. Not to mention her pierced eyebrow, or her skimpy white bikini bottom. And what a bottom. The girl was beyond beautiful. His cock hardened at the memory of the way she had become instantly wet and the way she moved under his fingers, beckoning him in.
“This is ridiculous,” Shane muttered to himself as he kept one hand over his bulging crotch, raking through female clothing. “If I can’t control a hard-on, people will think I’m a pervert.” He clumsily went through the rack, knocking a few items to the ground in the process, trying to think of any woman he may have met that matched her in any way.
Sexually, she had no equals. Undoubtedly a flirt, confident of her body, though not fully aware of her effect on him. He, too, was surprised, amazed, even, by her. But the expression in her eyes, the fire in them, kept haunting him. Uncanny, the way she watched him, speaking with those eyes. As if they’d been lovers in a previous life enjoying a secret code. He could feel her feelings, as if they had a lifetime bond.
This girl could’ve been the queen of Egypt for all he knew, so goddamn beautiful he wanted to keep her there forever and make love to her over and over again until he passed out from bloody exhaustion.
Shane would have to track down the shooter to restore her equanimity. And his. He couldn’t stand to see the fear in her eyes. It had lasted the whole trip down the coast, right up until he’d anchored and put his arms around her. He’d turned her fear into desire.
But this morning she’d been jumpy, frazzled, almost like the guardian of some big secret. If someone wanted to kill her and Alfie reacted like this, something was up. He believed her when she said she hadn’t done or seen anything illegal. But still, someone wanted to wipe her out. Not on his watch. Not ever.
He’d protect her until the end of the world, no matter what crime she’d committed. He’d fucked her, yeah, but that wasn’t it. He’d done it with feeling. When had that last happened to him? With Olivia he’d always been delicate. Afraid to hurt her. Afraid to show her his dark side.
And now, with Hunter, he was in deep. Too deep. Like it or not, he had to admit they were strangely bound together. Not only because he felt responsible for her safety, but also because he couldn’t imagine himself letting her further than three feet from him. That was it—after months and months of staying uninvolved he’d now, somehow passed the point of no return.
He finally settled on some jeans, blouses, Nike tennis shoes—there was no telling how long they’d have to run—a few cotton jumpers for colder evenings, some flat shoes, and a spring raincoat.
He went into the lingerie section and for his equanimity and almost tamed hard-on, he forced himself to not think of what she would look like in the lace panties and bras on the racks.
He chose pretty, but sensible pastel cotton wear, thinking that not even a chastity belt could keep him away from her. He then glided through the cosmetics and toiletry section and scooped up anything similar to Olivia’s stuff at home.
Olivia.
He hadn’t had the guts to clear the house of any of her belongings. Why, when the sight of it triggered all his memories? Not that he needed to think to remember. Olivia was always in his head. He couldn’t forget her, didn’t want to.
A quick trip to the M&S food section for readymade meals, bread, wine, and desserts—he already had
* * *
Shane ducked into a Marks & Spencer’s where he’d find everything he needed. At the front of the chain store on the left was women’s wear, and Shane smiled at the flashes of turquoises, blues, and whites strewn across the mannequins, the shelves, and the racks. They reminded him of a tropical sea.
What should he get her? He didn’t know anything about Hunter, and he had no idea what clothes she wore. Should he get jeans? A flowery dress? Highly unlikely, judging by the black nail polish. Not to mention her pierced eyebrow, or her skimpy white bikini bottom. And what a bottom. The girl was beyond beautiful. His cock hardened at the memory of the way she had become instantly wet and the way she moved under his fingers, beckoning him in.
“This is ridiculous,” Shane muttered to himself as he kept one hand over his bulging crotch, raking through female clothing. “If I can’t control a hard-on, people will think I’m a pervert.” He clumsily went through the rack, knocking a few items to the ground in the process, trying to think of any woman he may have met that matched her in any way.
Sexually, she had no equals. Undoubtedly a flirt, confident of her body, though not fully aware of her effect on him. He, too, was surprised, amazed, even, by her. But the expression in her eyes, the fire in them, kept haunting him. Uncanny, the way she watched him, speaking with those eyes. As if they’d been lovers in a previous life enjoying a secret code. He could feel her feelings, as if they had a lifetime bond.
This girl could’ve been the queen of Egypt for all he knew, so goddamn beautiful he wanted to keep her there forever and make love to her over and over again until he passed out from bloody exhaustion.
Shane would have to track down the shooter to restore her equanimity. And his. He couldn’t stand to see the fear in her eyes. It had lasted the whole trip down the coast, right up until he’d anchored and put his arms around her. He’d turned her fear into desire.
But this morning she’d been jumpy, frazzled, almost like the guardian of some big secret. If someone wanted to kill her and Alfie reacted like this, something was up. He believed her when she said she hadn’t done or seen anything illegal. But still, someone wanted to wipe her out. Not on his watch. Not ever.
He’d protect her until the end of the world, no matter what crime she’d committed. He’d fucked her, yeah, but that wasn’t it. He’d done it with feeling. When had that last happened to him? With Olivia he’d always been delicate. Afraid to hurt her. Afraid to show her his dark side.
And now, with Hunter, he was in deep. Too deep. Like it or not, he had to admit they were strangely bound together. Not only because he felt responsible for her safety, but also because he couldn’t imagine himself letting her further than three feet from him. That was it—after months and months of staying uninvolved he’d now, somehow passed the point of no return.
He finally settled on some jeans, blouses, Nike tennis shoes—there was no telling how long they’d have to run—a few cotton jumpers for colder evenings, some flat shoes, and a spring raincoat.
He went into the lingerie section and for his equanimity and almost tamed hard-on, he forced himself to not think of what she would look like in the lace panties and bras on the racks.
He chose pretty, but sensible pastel cotton wear, thinking that not even a chastity belt could keep him away from her. He then glided through the cosmetics and toiletry section and scooped up anything similar to Olivia’s stuff at home.
Olivia.
He hadn’t had the guts to clear the house of any of her belongings. Why, when the sight of it triggered all his memories? Not that he needed to think to remember. Olivia was always in his head. He couldn’t forget her, didn’t want to.
A quick trip to the M&S food section for readymade meals, bread, wine, and desserts—he already had
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