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by Kristen Kelly


  Jason let out an exasperated breath. “That’s not exactly what I meant. A hot guy with money is fine, just as long as he has good values too. Values, Liz. Put that word in your vocab. Not someone who tells you to wait an hour and a half in his damn Maserati while he pumps iron.”

  “John only did that once. I never should have told you,” I whined.

  John, AKA Big John, who was not only bigger than any other guy I’d ever dated, was my rebound boyfriend after my divorce. He was drop-dead-gorgeous and treated me like a lady. At least at first. He brought me flowers for no reason, and opened doors for me. He was almost too good to be true. Because he was. Five weeks later, I found find him shooting up in the bathroom. But that wasn’t the worst part. When I broke up with him, I thought he would be upset, beg me to reconsider. He didn’t. He showed me my name in his ‘little black book.’ Then he ripped out the page, lit it on fire, and walked away from me. In the middle of a ball game we were attending. I’d never felt more humiliated in my life.

  Jason made his ‘I can’t believe we’re talking about this gain’ scowl. “Yeah, well. We all know how that turned out.” I hated that he was right. I hated that he threw past digressions in my face? They weren’t all bad. Okay, well maybe they were, and I sort of owed my brother. Big time.

  “Okay. Okay. You’re right. No dating until they pass the Jason-o-meter. Will that make you happy?”

  “You’re the one I want to see happy, Liz.” He placed a palm to my cheek. “I love you, Sis. You deserve a good life. A happy life.”

  Did I? Sometimes I wondered.

  He finished his beer and asked for another. “So, I say we make a list,” Jason said brightly. “Of all the thing you find attractive in a man.”

  Great. At least I’ll have a say in this so-called perfect man.

  He held up a pointer finger halting my next words. “And I’ll tell you if I agree. I’m thinking we may need to um…revise some of your requirements in a mate.”

  “Requirements?”

  Jason looked at my smugly. I hated him being right, but had to admit, my taste in men up to now, consisted of tall, rich and handsome…with a side order of kick-my-ass-to-the-curb when he got bored. I took a sip of my Daiquiri, wondering if Damon Hotter-than-Shit Donovan was that kind of guy.

  I knew I was a stunner and I never lacked for male attention. Unfortunately, my self esteem was such that whenever a hot guy looked my way, I simply melted into a puddle. I blame that on our abusive stepfather. Or so my therapist and I agreed, although I was sure it wasn’t all his fault. A woman had to take responsibility for her own choices at some point, right?

  Jason put down his beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He patted my hand. “Soooo…how about revising that list for me?”

  “Um…” I thought about the man I might one day marry. What exactly were my requirements in a mate? Someone who was as into me as I was to him. Someone who would take an interest in what I was interested in, even if it wasn’t really his thing. He’d take an interest because he cared. Someone who liked children. Someone who… Oh hell! Just give him the basics, Liz. You’re not about to marry whomever Jason deems worthy anyway. “Tall, attractive and he should be involved in something that…something that….” I bit my lip, knowing exactly what Jason would say, but intent on saying it anyway. “Makes him a lot of money.”

  Jason inhaled sharply.

  “Now I know. I know, but Jason…I don’t want to be depending on your handouts my whole life.”

  “They’re not handouts. You’re my sister. Besides, who else do I have to spend it on? I don’t have any kids and…well, we both know Demetrius doesn’t need it.” Demetrius was Jason’s name for Tom. He said Tom was too simple a name for such a complex individual.

  “Here me out. The last guys I dated were all filthy rich but then look at my Ex. Not a pot to piss in, and all he did was sit on the computer all day playing video games and pretend he was looking for work. I’m sure you don’t’ want a man like that for me, do you Jason?”

  “Of course not.”

  “And don’t you think a man should at least have a hefty bank account by the time he’s thirty five? If for no other reason so he can devote all his time to me instead of working all the time?” I fluttered my eyes at my brother.

  “I guess you do have a point,” James conceded.

  “I just want him to be self sufficient is all,” I said. Besides, I have you to take care of me.”

  His eyes widened. “Huh. I wouldn’t have thought you were that shallow, Liz.”

  “Shallow?”

  He broke into a wide grin, punching me in the shoulder.

  “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

  “Who else can I talk this way to if not for my little sister?”

  “Okay, make a deal with you. How about a guy who isn’t necessarily rich, but makes a good living and has no debt.”

  “Hmmm. Better.”

  “And um maybe he takes care of his sick grandmother, sister, great-aunt or volunteers as a scout leader.”

  Jason laughed. “Sounds like a damned priest, Liz.”

  “Well, that would make him a kind man, right? But ooh, you do give me ideas about the priest thing.”

  “How very Thorn Birds of you, Liz. I think I’ve heard enough.”

  Why hadn’t I thought about this before? Why hadn’t I made up my own list and then stuck to it?

  “Anything else so I can erase these disgusting pictures in my brain?”

  I giggled. “I’d really like him to be handsome, maybe not GQ handsome but not bad, know what I mean.”

  “I do. This is great, Liz,” Jason said scribbling it all down.

  “Yeah, it’s kind of fun too. Feels like I’m building my dream man.”

  “What else you got?”

  “Hmmm. I would like him to be well-read, and not just sports magazines. Oh, and healthy, not just a weight lifter, but someone who really cares about his health.”

  “Awesome.”

  I beamed at my brother’s approval.

  “And there’s one thing I won’t negotiate on.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want someone who is a born again virgin.”

  “What!?”

  My smile widened. “Not a real virgin. Someone whose been celibate for a long time. Like after a divorce or a breakup. I want someone whose already healed from his last catastrophe with a woman.”

  “Wow. That’s a tall order. Liz. Not sure I can…Okay, I’ll try. By the way, how did you come up with all this?”

  My laughter bubbled over. “From romance novels. Where else?”

  Jason downed the last of his beer, dabbed the sweat on his forehead with a napkin and said. “All right, I’m off to the gym. See you at dinner.”

  “Go get ‘em, Hercules.”

  He turned back to me with warning in his eyes. “And no hooking up with the first guy you see. Got it?”

  I smiled at him sweetly. Not only was it ridiculous, but I was in no position to do so. I saw Damon with a pretty blonde on his arm not thirty minutes earlier, and I bet she wasn’t the first one. He probably had them lined up for every hour of the day. Looking like he did. I’d made my share of mistakes with men, but I wasn’t that stupid. Besides, he was probably too pretty for me anyway. That kind of man could only mean trouble. Then again…I squeezed my legs together, trying to get his sexy smile out of my head.

  I hopped off the bar stool. “I think I’ll go up to my room to take a bubble bath. Maybe I can imagine some hot sexy porn in the romance novel I’m reading. That okay with you?”

  Jason looked heavenward. “What am I going to do with her?”

  I shrugged and then laughed. He kissed me on the top of my head and said, “talk to you later.” Before he got too far, he turned around and mouthed, “don’t get into trouble.”

  As I watched my brother turning the corner toward the gym, Damon crossed over from the pool-side. My face heated, my nipples suddenl
y erect. I turned on my heel, pretending to be absorbed in some trivia cards at the bar.

  Damn, no man should look that good in broad daylight. If Damon Donovan appeared hot soaking wet, he looked absolutely scrumptious in an unzipped olive green jacket over his hard chiseled chest. Low slung jeans clung to his dimpled hips. Blue mirrored sunglasses covered his green eyes. He hadn’t shaved in recent days, giving him a shadow of sandy brown growth, making him seem more dangerous than I’d last remembered. My heart sped up, slamming against my breasts so hard I could hardly think straight.

  Sex on a stick. That’s what he was. Sex on a fucking stick!

  Trotting toward me, he entered the bar a smile spreading when he saw me. I followed the line of dark hair from his navel to his waistband, noting the silver eagle belt buckle above some firmly packed denim.

  He was so not my type. Well, he used to be but… Oh god, I was in deep trouble with this one!

  He took off his sunglasses. “Elizabeth, that you?” He slid the glass to the back of his head. Even that trivial little action was arousing.

  “Uh, hi,” I said sitting back down and crossing one leg over the other nonchalantly. “Fancy meeting you here.” I could feel the heat in my throat crawling up the back of my neck. Damn, why did he have to be so gorgeous?

  “So uh…enjoying yourself?” he asked, shifting a very large duffle bag to his other shoulder and looking sheepish.

  My heart skipped, my hands suddenly shaking. Why would someone like him be nervous around someone like me? Surely he had lots of opportunity to… I wasn’t used to seeing bashfulness in men. Especially hot ones. I swear our faces matched must have matched in color.

  “I am enjoying it here, but there’s one thing I don’t get, what’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” I don’t know why I said it, but suddenly I felt like flirting. I guess that was what I was doing. I wasn’t exactly in charge of my mouth.

  He chuckled and I’d never seen anything cuter. “Actually I’m one of the instructors,” he informed me.

  “No kidding.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve been here since my grandmother brought me here when I was just a kid. Learned to swim right in that pool back there.” We both looked behind us as if his former childlike self would reappear just for our enjoyment.

  “Know how I learned how to swim?” I said, remembering. “My dad threw me in a lake when I was five. Then he shouted to me, ‘hey girly, sink or swim! Your choice.” I still shuddered over his words although at the time I hadn’t heard them, and I learned to hate the water from that day forward. I only survived because Jason, who was three years older than me, had rescued me, all to the hilarious laughter from my father in the back of the boat.

  Damon’s beautiful lips curved downward. “Sorry, That sounds…pretty cruel, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve learned to stay away from the water. Who needs it, right?”

  He didn’t correct me, but he didn’t agree either. I could see the sweat rolling down the front of his chest—and there it was again. The heat. I took a deep breath and asked him to sit, partly because I liked his company, but also because his chest wasn’t the only thing I saw erect. A little tent in his baggy drawstring shorts. The thought of what lay beneath those shorts was making me nuts.

  Thankfully, he sat down and I was able to breathe again.

  He leaned forward, arms braced on the chair. The muscles in his arms stretched. “So, did the lesson of your youth make you fear the water? Or is it something you just would rather not do?”

  “I can’t swim at all,” I said, wondering why I was telling a perfect stranger something I would be embarrassed to tell mostly anyone. “I wish I could, but I can’t.” I shrugged. “Probably not in our genes, you know. My brother hates the water too, although for different reasons.”

  “I could teach you,” Damon said brightly.

  “Oh no, I couldn’t let you do that. I’m sure you have….other responsibilities that take up your time here. I wouldn’t want to get you fired or anything.”

  For some reason that made him laugh. “Not a worry. Really. I know the owner quite well.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, suddenly realizing that if I let him teach me to swim; it would bring us amazingly close while wearing very little clothing. The thought gave me hot flashes. “Can I think about it?”

  He shifted the bag on his shoulder. “Yeah, sure. Well, I better get going. Duty calls you know.”

  “Yeah, right. You’re the trainer around here aren’t you? I think my brother is signed up for some of your classes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup. He’s determined to get completely buffed in just 2 little weeks.”

  Damon’s smile thinned. “Don’t they all? Oh, I have something for you.” He reached inside his duffle, pulled out a book, and handed it to me. It’s the next book in the Outlander series.”

  “But I haven’t….I’m not sure I’ll have time to…” When I neglected to take the book from him, he placed it on the bar by my drink.

  “Everyone says that when they realize how long the book is, but I guarantee you, once you get into this series, you’ll be hooked. Lock, stock, and sinker.”

  I laughed. He was right, and I didn’t tell him I’d actually gone way past the few chapters he suggest I read. In fact, I was halfway through already. “You know you’re probably the only man on the planet that reads romance novels,” I said.

  He grinned, glancing down as he zipped his jacket back up. When he raised his head again, he stared at me for several seconds without speaking, like he was trying to remember something. Or maybe he was wondering as much about me as I was about him.

  Finally, he shook his head as if trying to clear his brain. “It’s not a romance novel,” he corrected. “It’s more of a historical epic with romantic overtures, don’t you think?”

  “I agree, and thank you.”

  He touched my hand and a zing of electricity went through me again. Did he feel it too? “Right. Sure. Well…uh, I better get going.” He didn’t leave though, just kept his hand there on top of mine.

  I was beginning to become uncomfortable by the way he was staring at me. Did I have food in my teeth or something?

  I slipped my hand out from underneath. “Well, thank you. I’ll try my best to finish the first book before I leave, but no promises.”

  “No promises,” he repeated.

  Were we still talking about a book?

  “Well, gotta go.” As he turned on his heel and disappeared in the direction of the gym, I couldn’t help thinking what other surprises did Mr. Damon Donovan have up his sleeve? The fact that he never ridiculed me about not knowing how to swim like most of the men I’d dated, warmed my heat. And he certainly didn’t appear vane like I’d pegged him. I was fascinated by the man. I had no intention of dating Mr. Donovan, but a new friend was always an asset right? I could hear my brother’s voice inside my head. No friends with benefits, Liz!

  Chapter Three

  Damon

  My eyes nearly exploded and my cock twitched when I caught sight of Elizabeth at the bar, that small dainty foot of hers bouncing at the end of the sexiest leg I’d seen. Long. Shapely. Naked and smooth. Perfect for wrapping around my waist while I drilled into her up against a wall.

  Only two words came to mind. Goddess or witch. Her magic had already resurrected my dick from the eternal dead. I felt it grow inside my shorts. Hard. Stiff. Ready to… Fuck! Summer clothing left nothing to the imagination and I couldn’t turn back. She’d already seen me and was waving me over. I tried to think of something else. Anything. Boiled cabbage. I hated boiled cabbage. There. I took a deep breath.

  She was rattling on about her inability to swim due to her asshole stepfather throwing her in a lake. My teeth clenched with rage. I wanted to pummel that guy into the ground. No human being should be treated like that especially a little girl.

  Miss Elizabeth Doyle was even more gorg
eous than I remembered, and it should be illegal to wear dresses that short while crossing ones legs over a barstool. A guy just didn’t have a chance against that sort of temptation. Well, this guy was keeping his dick in his pants. At least, until I got to know her better. And I would get her in that pool if I had to throw her over my shoulder and drop her in the water. Swimming lessons could save her life one day. I’d be a terrible human being if I let her leave the Delaney Club without teaching her pretty ass to swim properly.

  Recently, I found myself dreaming about what style of bathing suit she wore. I really didn’t get a good look at the one she had on at our first meeting because she had a cover-up over it. Did she wear a barely there bikini or one of those hip skimming, backless, plunging neckline numbers? I wondered if her breasts would poof out over the top, tantalizing me with their softness. I shook my head, clearing my vision and trying to think of something else. Oh yes, Gran’s visit. We were going to talk about finances or the lack there of.

  After saying a few words to each other, we said our goodbyes. I looked straight ahead, moving swiftly past the bar although it wasn’t easy getting my feet to move with a raging hardon between my legs. Again.

  She watched me leave and our eyes never left each others . Elizabeth fluttered her fingers at me, before I disappeared down the hallway.

  When I got to the gym, I threw my bag against the concrete wall with a thud. “Hello, everybody. I hope you’re ready to work.”

  I stared at the overweight men hovering under the basketball net. Soon, I would have them rolling on the floor, and hopefully breaking a good sweat, their eyes so big and glassy they’d beg me to stop working them so hard. But what else could I do? They were only here for a few weeks. Serves them right, I thought darkly, for treating your bodies like goddamned garbage dumps. Which one would pass out first? Yeah, I was a little sadistic. It gave me a few laughs in a very boring existence.

  I took my extra bar weights and my water bottle and set them against the wall. Why in the hell these rich cats let me torture them like I did never ceased to amaze me. “I hope you all brought water, because this session can be tough,” I said.

 

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