again.
"If I'm supposed to be protecting you, I guess I'd better step up my game."
She smiled. It felt impossibly good to be standing
there with him, having him care about what happened to her. Yes, it was his
job, but it still stirred her emotions. "I'm going to dry off. You'd
better see what you can do about earning your dinner."
"You're all wet. I think we should head
back."
"No." She was not about to let a little
water ruin her day. The thought of being trapped inside a building when she
could be here was not acceptable. "You're not using that excuse as a way to
justify me catching more fish than you."
He let out a genuine laugh, the sound filling
their serene surroundings with beautiful noise. "I see how it is."
He lifted her pole, the fish still on the hook. "Caught one. Now we're even."
She shook her head. "Nope. That one's mine,
too. I earned it the hard way. The score stands at two-to-zero, zippo, none.
I can't believe a big, bad cop like you is going to let himself get upstaged by
a city girl."
He narrowed his eyes as laughter teased the
corners of them. "Oh yeah? Then game on, darlin'. Prepare to lose."
A thrill rushed through her as she stepped off the
rock. "Game on, deputy."
Her shoes squeaked with each step she took, water
leaking out the sides. By the time she'd traveled the short distance to the
blanket, it sunk in exactly how uncomfortable she would be to remain in her
water-laden attire for very long.
She slipped out of her shoes and peeled off her
socks, stepping onto the dry meadow grass. She wiggled her toes, the blades
tickling her as she dried her feet. Why had she never taken the time to get
this close to nature before? It fed her spirit like nothing else.
She glanced at Milo, who seemed more intent on
watching her than fishing. "Don't you think you should be concentrating
on what's on the other end of your line?"
"I am."
"Uh-huh. Turn around. I'm going to strip
out of these wet jeans."
"You tell me this and then ask me to turn
around?" He arched a seductive brow.
"Turn." She twirled a finger in the air.
When he complied, she popped the button on her jeans and began to work her way
out of the wet denim.
CHAPTER SIX
Good God almighty. Was he being punished for all of the
times he'd flirted with women and then left them wanting? Knowing that the woman
who'd haunted nearly every thought he'd had since he'd met her was half-naked
within viewing distance was more than he could resist. He'd like to meet the
man who could.
He managed to keep his eyes off Ariana for all
of ten seconds before his gaze slid in her direction. He'd have to concede he
was no gentleman, but the ding to his honor was worth the prize. He let his
fishing pole go slack as he feasted on the sight of barely-there turquoise
panties clinging to the nicely rounded pale flesh of her ass. She wiggled as
she shimmied out of her wet jeans, and he grew instantly hard. He forced a
swallow past the thick lump in his throat. Damn.
She bent over to slip her feet from her pants,
and the pole slipped from his hand. The movement jerked him from his lusty
thoughts, and he grabbed it before it slipped into the water.
When he glanced back at Ariana, she narrowed
her eyes. "You peeked." She tucked in the edge of the blanket she'd
wrapped around her waist.
He gave her his best innocent look and shook
his head.
"Don't try to lie to me. It's written all
over your face." She sauntered toward him, her long dark tresses
caressing her bare shoulders, her blanket-covered hips swinging with each
step. She stopped in front of him, her gaze penetrating his façade. "Admit
it."
He searched her eyes, sparks flying between
them, and he knew in that moment he was in deep shit. He wasn't admitting
anything. To do so would only sink him further into the mire. Instead, he
grinned and turned back to the river.
"Fine." She picked up her rod
"If I'm supposed to be protecting you, I guess I'd better step up my game."
She smiled. It felt impossibly good to be standing
there with him, having him care about what happened to her. Yes, it was his
job, but it still stirred her emotions. "I'm going to dry off. You'd
better see what you can do about earning your dinner."
"You're all wet. I think we should head
back."
"No." She was not about to let a little
water ruin her day. The thought of being trapped inside a building when she
could be here was not acceptable. "You're not using that excuse as a way to
justify me catching more fish than you."
He let out a genuine laugh, the sound filling
their serene surroundings with beautiful noise. "I see how it is."
He lifted her pole, the fish still on the hook. "Caught one. Now we're even."
She shook her head. "Nope. That one's mine,
too. I earned it the hard way. The score stands at two-to-zero, zippo, none.
I can't believe a big, bad cop like you is going to let himself get upstaged by
a city girl."
He narrowed his eyes as laughter teased the
corners of them. "Oh yeah? Then game on, darlin'. Prepare to lose."
A thrill rushed through her as she stepped off the
rock. "Game on, deputy."
Her shoes squeaked with each step she took, water
leaking out the sides. By the time she'd traveled the short distance to the
blanket, it sunk in exactly how uncomfortable she would be to remain in her
water-laden attire for very long.
She slipped out of her shoes and peeled off her
socks, stepping onto the dry meadow grass. She wiggled her toes, the blades
tickling her as she dried her feet. Why had she never taken the time to get
this close to nature before? It fed her spirit like nothing else.
She glanced at Milo, who seemed more intent on
watching her than fishing. "Don't you think you should be concentrating
on what's on the other end of your line?"
"I am."
"Uh-huh. Turn around. I'm going to strip
out of these wet jeans."
"You tell me this and then ask me to turn
around?" He arched a seductive brow.
"Turn." She twirled a finger in the air.
When he complied, she popped the button on her jeans and began to work her way
out of the wet denim.
CHAPTER SIX
Good God almighty. Was he being punished for all of the
times he'd flirted with women and then left them wanting? Knowing that the woman
who'd haunted nearly every thought he'd had since he'd met her was half-naked
within viewing distance was more than he could resist. He'd like to meet the
man who could.
He managed to keep his eyes off Ariana for all
of ten seconds before his gaze slid in her direction. He'd have to concede he
was no gentleman, but the ding to his honor was worth the prize. He let his
fishing pole go slack as he feasted on the sight of barely-there turquoise
panties clinging to the nicely rounded pale flesh of her ass. She wiggled as
she shimmied out of her wet jeans, and he grew instantly hard. He forced a
swallow past the thick lump in his throat. Damn.
She bent over to slip her feet from her pants,
and the pole slipped from his hand. The movement jerked him from his lusty
thoughts, and he grabbed it before it slipped into the water.
When he glanced back at Ariana, she narrowed
her eyes. "You peeked." She tucked in the edge of the blanket she'd
wrapped around her waist.
He gave her his best innocent look and shook
his head.
"Don't try to lie to me. It's written all
over your face." She sauntered toward him, her long dark tresses
caressing her bare shoulders, her blanket-covered hips swinging with each
step. She stopped in front of him, her gaze penetrating his façade. "Admit
it."
He searched her eyes, sparks flying between
them, and he knew in that moment he was in deep shit. He wasn't admitting
anything. To do so would only sink him further into the mire. Instead, he
grinned and turned back to the river.
"Fine." She picked up her rod
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