Read Online Silk on the Skin: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Linda Cajio - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Linda Cajio
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gesture.
His hands stopped their task, thankfully. “It’s too damned hot, and these clothes stink!”
“But you can’t—” she yelped.
“I will,” he said flatly. “It’s bad enough that you’re going to be laughing at me all day, but I will be damned before I’ll swelter to death too.”
“Dallas, be serious! You can’t sit around in your underwear, for goodness’ sake!”
“I don’t intend to. I’m just going to cut the jeans into shorts with the knife from the tackle box. I’d try to do it without taking my pants off, but if I cut myself, you’d probably throw me in for bait to catch Jaws II.”
Cass smiled at him.
“If your modesty is offended, then turn around,” he suggested in an exasperated voice as he went to work on the buckle again. “But these damn pants are coming off!”
She whipped her head in the opposite direction. But the sound of a zipper being opened, followed by cloth being skinned down bare flesh, brought a wealth of images to her mind … and a little mischief as well.
She began to sing
The Stripper.
“Dada-da-da. Dida-da-da. Dada-da-da, dida-a-a. Dida. Bombom. Dida. Bombom—”
“Very funny, Cass.”
Laughing helplessly, she covered her face with her hands. “It was too good to pass up.”
And it had been. She admitted she was enjoying herself hugely. Already the scare with the burglar seemed distant … even unreal. It was now as if she’d viewed the incident on television, rather than its actually having happened to her. Thank goodness for Dallas Carter, she thought, smiling to herself. He’d made her laugh on a day she hadn’t expected to.
He hadn’t mentioned M & L or the proxy once, and she was very grateful to him for that kindness. She acknowledged that he did have some honor. If the circumstances had been different, Dallas might have been a friend. A more intimate term came to mind, and she pushed it away.
A few minutes later, he said, “Okay, you can turn around.”
Grinning, she turned. Her amusement faded, though, at the sight of him in his shorts. Every muscle of his body was well defined without looking the least brawny. He could easily have been a “Hunk of the Month.” Where in the world, she wondered, did they grow company presidents like him? All this time, and she’d had no idea he had such great legs. They were muscular and lightly covered with hair. Not too much, but just enough, she admitted. Perfect. All of him was.…
“I guess I should check the traps,” he said.
The cloud she was floating on burst at his words, and she crashed firmly back to earth. She clinically eyed his expanse of lightly tanned skin. Obviously he’d been out in the sun, but not too recently.
“You’re going to burn if you don’t put the shirt back on,” she said.
He glanced down at his arms, the darkest part of him. “I’ve got a layer of tan. Once I have that, I never burn.”
She reached over and picked up her beach bag. Rummaging around in it, she finally pulled out a tube of tanning lotion and tossed it to him.
“This is better than nothing,” she said. “Put it on.”
Picking it up, he shrugged dismissively. “If it will make you happy. But I never burn.”
She had a feeling that at the end of the day she’d be taking in some crabs … and one very huge, very red lobster.
Six
“Looks good,” Dallas pronounced hours later while glancing down at his arms, which had darkened even more from the sun. “Nice and tan. Maybe just a touch of windburn, but nothing a little ointment can’t handle.”
He pulled his shirt back on as Cass made a face at him.
“I have to admit, though,” he added as Cass guided the boat through the inlet’s late-afternoon tide, “I did like your fussing over me.”
“I didn’t fuss. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get burned, that’s all.”
“You fussed.” He looked down at the bushel basket in the bottom of the boat. The crab he’d “caught” had now been joined by a
His hands stopped their task, thankfully. “It’s too damned hot, and these clothes stink!”
“But you can’t—” she yelped.
“I will,” he said flatly. “It’s bad enough that you’re going to be laughing at me all day, but I will be damned before I’ll swelter to death too.”
“Dallas, be serious! You can’t sit around in your underwear, for goodness’ sake!”
“I don’t intend to. I’m just going to cut the jeans into shorts with the knife from the tackle box. I’d try to do it without taking my pants off, but if I cut myself, you’d probably throw me in for bait to catch Jaws II.”
Cass smiled at him.
“If your modesty is offended, then turn around,” he suggested in an exasperated voice as he went to work on the buckle again. “But these damn pants are coming off!”
She whipped her head in the opposite direction. But the sound of a zipper being opened, followed by cloth being skinned down bare flesh, brought a wealth of images to her mind … and a little mischief as well.
She began to sing
The Stripper.
“Dada-da-da. Dida-da-da. Dada-da-da, dida-a-a. Dida. Bombom. Dida. Bombom—”
“Very funny, Cass.”
Laughing helplessly, she covered her face with her hands. “It was too good to pass up.”
And it had been. She admitted she was enjoying herself hugely. Already the scare with the burglar seemed distant … even unreal. It was now as if she’d viewed the incident on television, rather than its actually having happened to her. Thank goodness for Dallas Carter, she thought, smiling to herself. He’d made her laugh on a day she hadn’t expected to.
He hadn’t mentioned M & L or the proxy once, and she was very grateful to him for that kindness. She acknowledged that he did have some honor. If the circumstances had been different, Dallas might have been a friend. A more intimate term came to mind, and she pushed it away.
A few minutes later, he said, “Okay, you can turn around.”
Grinning, she turned. Her amusement faded, though, at the sight of him in his shorts. Every muscle of his body was well defined without looking the least brawny. He could easily have been a “Hunk of the Month.” Where in the world, she wondered, did they grow company presidents like him? All this time, and she’d had no idea he had such great legs. They were muscular and lightly covered with hair. Not too much, but just enough, she admitted. Perfect. All of him was.…
“I guess I should check the traps,” he said.
The cloud she was floating on burst at his words, and she crashed firmly back to earth. She clinically eyed his expanse of lightly tanned skin. Obviously he’d been out in the sun, but not too recently.
“You’re going to burn if you don’t put the shirt back on,” she said.
He glanced down at his arms, the darkest part of him. “I’ve got a layer of tan. Once I have that, I never burn.”
She reached over and picked up her beach bag. Rummaging around in it, she finally pulled out a tube of tanning lotion and tossed it to him.
“This is better than nothing,” she said. “Put it on.”
Picking it up, he shrugged dismissively. “If it will make you happy. But I never burn.”
She had a feeling that at the end of the day she’d be taking in some crabs … and one very huge, very red lobster.
Six
“Looks good,” Dallas pronounced hours later while glancing down at his arms, which had darkened even more from the sun. “Nice and tan. Maybe just a touch of windburn, but nothing a little ointment can’t handle.”
He pulled his shirt back on as Cass made a face at him.
“I have to admit, though,” he added as Cass guided the boat through the inlet’s late-afternoon tide, “I did like your fussing over me.”
“I didn’t fuss. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get burned, that’s all.”
“You fussed.” He looked down at the bushel basket in the bottom of the boat. The crab he’d “caught” had now been joined by a
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