minutes. “This is really good.” He traced the outline of the scythe.
Huh? A Compliment?
“Hang on a minute. I think I might spontaneously combust,” I said dryly.
As Zane stretched out his legs, and the dark material of his shirt pulled taut against his chest. “Are you always this much fun?”
I thought about jabbing him with my pencil. “Do you always treat people like they have no feelings?”
“Not usually.”
I snorted. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
He handed over my sketchbook, his bright blues on mine. “That’s because you’re different.”
“Different how?”
Unruly dark hair fell over his forehead. “You being here causes a whole lot of problems for me, and I don’t like it.”
His words went right through my flesh like a cold wind. What I heard was, I don’t like you , and it was a blow to my womanhood. “Screw you.” I grabbed my stuff and started to push to my feet.
“Piper, wait.” He reached out, placing a hand on my arm, neither of us prepared for the static tremor of his touch. Quickly, he snatched his hand back. “That came out harsher than I intended.”
I paused, my back to him.
“Don’t leave.”
Holy cow. I never imagined that two words, said in just the way he had, could have such a powerful effect on me. They reached deep inside me. Maybe it was the accent. Yep. It had to be the accent. A few heartbeats passed, as I collected myself, before I turned to face him.
Surprise and bewilderment burrowed in his brows. “You really don’t know,” he said.
I squinted, wondering if I had set myself up for another trap. “Know what?” I asked.
Curious eyes roamed my face. “Who you are?”
Hugging the sketchpad to my chest, I asked, “And just who do you think I am?” If this was his idea of a twisted game… But his dark expression appeared so sincere.
He shook his head. “You confuse me.” Lifting his hand, he froze midair, stopping just short of stroking my face, second-guessing whether he should touch me again. He looked at me without a trace of irritation or loathing.
“Me?” I stated, feeling a rise in my blood pressure. “You’re the one who is speaking in circles. You’re the one who has been nothing but rude. And now you are telling me I confuse you. You’re joking, right?”
He leaned in, the scent of him a sensory overload. I wanted to press my nose to his neck and inhale a deep, drugging breath. “I wish things were different,” he murmured.
My heart pranced. What was he doing to me? Just a few minutes ago, I had been ready to punch him in the nose. He had done nothing but insult me since we met, but here I was drifting toward him, captured by his crystal eyes and the warmth of his nearness. It didn’t matter that nothing he said made sense. I couldn’t comprehend anyway.
The pad of paper slipped from my grasp, and I bit my lip.
Sweet baby Jesus.
Was he going to kiss me? Was I going to let him kiss me? Did I want Zane to kiss me? The kiss I would never forget. The mere thought of his lips on mine, of him kissing me brainless, because boys like him definitely kissed with fervor, his hands wrapped around my waist…
My gut twisted in a wild need I’d never felt before. He hadn’t even touched me, but his eyes caressed every part of my skin. I held my breath, waiting, poised on the edge of reckless stupidity. I barely knew Zane, yet here I was. He stirred a dark passion I never knew lay inside me, opened my body to world I had never explored, but desperately wanted to. Right here. Right now.
I wanted to close the small distance between us. I wanted to feel the craziness his lips promised. I wanted…
A dog barked.
At first, I thought I’d imagined the sound. It was so faint, hardly heard above the pounding of my heart and the waves lapping and foaming on the shore. Then it came again. And again. Louder. Clearer.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A fluffy, white pup nuzzled its way between us, yapping in
Huh? A Compliment?
“Hang on a minute. I think I might spontaneously combust,” I said dryly.
As Zane stretched out his legs, and the dark material of his shirt pulled taut against his chest. “Are you always this much fun?”
I thought about jabbing him with my pencil. “Do you always treat people like they have no feelings?”
“Not usually.”
I snorted. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
He handed over my sketchbook, his bright blues on mine. “That’s because you’re different.”
“Different how?”
Unruly dark hair fell over his forehead. “You being here causes a whole lot of problems for me, and I don’t like it.”
His words went right through my flesh like a cold wind. What I heard was, I don’t like you , and it was a blow to my womanhood. “Screw you.” I grabbed my stuff and started to push to my feet.
“Piper, wait.” He reached out, placing a hand on my arm, neither of us prepared for the static tremor of his touch. Quickly, he snatched his hand back. “That came out harsher than I intended.”
I paused, my back to him.
“Don’t leave.”
Holy cow. I never imagined that two words, said in just the way he had, could have such a powerful effect on me. They reached deep inside me. Maybe it was the accent. Yep. It had to be the accent. A few heartbeats passed, as I collected myself, before I turned to face him.
Surprise and bewilderment burrowed in his brows. “You really don’t know,” he said.
I squinted, wondering if I had set myself up for another trap. “Know what?” I asked.
Curious eyes roamed my face. “Who you are?”
Hugging the sketchpad to my chest, I asked, “And just who do you think I am?” If this was his idea of a twisted game… But his dark expression appeared so sincere.
He shook his head. “You confuse me.” Lifting his hand, he froze midair, stopping just short of stroking my face, second-guessing whether he should touch me again. He looked at me without a trace of irritation or loathing.
“Me?” I stated, feeling a rise in my blood pressure. “You’re the one who is speaking in circles. You’re the one who has been nothing but rude. And now you are telling me I confuse you. You’re joking, right?”
He leaned in, the scent of him a sensory overload. I wanted to press my nose to his neck and inhale a deep, drugging breath. “I wish things were different,” he murmured.
My heart pranced. What was he doing to me? Just a few minutes ago, I had been ready to punch him in the nose. He had done nothing but insult me since we met, but here I was drifting toward him, captured by his crystal eyes and the warmth of his nearness. It didn’t matter that nothing he said made sense. I couldn’t comprehend anyway.
The pad of paper slipped from my grasp, and I bit my lip.
Sweet baby Jesus.
Was he going to kiss me? Was I going to let him kiss me? Did I want Zane to kiss me? The kiss I would never forget. The mere thought of his lips on mine, of him kissing me brainless, because boys like him definitely kissed with fervor, his hands wrapped around my waist…
My gut twisted in a wild need I’d never felt before. He hadn’t even touched me, but his eyes caressed every part of my skin. I held my breath, waiting, poised on the edge of reckless stupidity. I barely knew Zane, yet here I was. He stirred a dark passion I never knew lay inside me, opened my body to world I had never explored, but desperately wanted to. Right here. Right now.
I wanted to close the small distance between us. I wanted to feel the craziness his lips promised. I wanted…
A dog barked.
At first, I thought I’d imagined the sound. It was so faint, hardly heard above the pounding of my heart and the waves lapping and foaming on the shore. Then it came again. And again. Louder. Clearer.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A fluffy, white pup nuzzled its way between us, yapping in
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