Not even five bites into her meal, the air around her heated. Instinctually, she knew. Her stalker had returned. No longer interested in food, her fork resorted to simply moving the food around on her plate. He might have been the sexiest man to stalk her in what was surely a thousand years. The intensity and heat from his gaze formed a kaleidoscope of butterflies in her stomach. Their presence allowed no room for something as trivial as sustenance when thousands of wings fluttered violently, begging to take flight.
He'd maintained a respectable distance, but his study of her remained constant. She didn't even need to look to know. She felt it to the very core of her being. Honestly, did the man not ever blink? I should either smile or glare at him. At least make him aware I know he's watching me. Was that the real reason she was considering returning his interest? Or was it something more basic?
A soft breeze whispered through the open-air restaurant and bar. To hell with it. What could it hurt? Lifting her head, she swept the shoulder-length hair away from her face and turned in his direction, offering a small smile. Nothing overt, but enough to let him see there was a woman behind the protective shield she wore as easily as her own skin.
Since he'd stared at her every time their paths crossed, time to return the favor and give him a taste of his own medicine. His black hair sported the close-cropped cut characteristic of a man serving in the armed forces. She surmised he'd been on leave for a couple weeks since the ends were curling in defiance. What would those curls feel like against her slender fingers? Would they be as smooth as his rosy cheeks or soft as his kind eyes? I want to know…not just imagine.
Moving her gaze lower, she realized the softness and youth ended there. His chest, covered in a light-colored T-shirt bulged with well-defined muscles. The material of his shorts threatened to rip trying to contain thighs sturdy as tree trunks. His other friends were thinner and more compact. This man represented strength, power, and sex appeal all wrapped up in one smoldering package.
She swallowed hard and dropped her fork to the plate when he stood and moved toward her. The temptation to run tugged, but the sweet smile on his face kept her butt in the chair. She'd opened the door. He was simply walking, correction…he was definitely swaggering, through it.
Now here he was, standing before her, his belt at eye level. Damn these low chairs. Thankfully, he crouched down beside her and extended his hand. "Good evening, ma'am. Could I buy you a drink?"
Cotton filled her mouth as the rich tones rolled off his perfect lips. She swallowed, definitely needing some liquid to allow her to form a word or two. What was it about this man? Drawing from deep down, she pointed to the wine glass on the table before grabbing it and taking a sip. "You're late to the party. As you can see, I already have a drink."
"Well, damn. I should've found the nerve to make the offer earlier, but I was held in place by your stunning beauty."
The attorney in her, the part of her that loved to argue and debate, rose to control. "Stunning beauty? Does that normally work on the women you hit on?"
"Ma'am?"
The confusion on his face was endearing, but enough with the ma'am. Once was bad, twice was one time too many. Ma'am was work, not play. "My name is Evelyn. Would you prefer I address you as sir?" He is in the military—maybe that's all he knows.
The smile returned, and he extended his hand. "Cody."
Even his name made him sound like a teenager. She placed her hand in his. A jolt of electricity sparked through her veins at the innocent touch. Definitely not a teenager. Her eyes couldn't look away from the image of his larger, dark brown hand surrounding her smaller, lightly tanned one. Protected. Safe. "Well, Cody, I may not be in need of a drink but you're welcome to provide some company as long as you promise not to use the word stunning again."
"I may never use the word stunning again."
The warmth of his smile and those smoldering eyes accompanied by the velvet tones of his response prompted her to lower her lashes. She lifted the glass of water to her now parched lips. "Never is a very long time."
A few moments passed before he broke the spell. Probably a good thing as a few more minutes of drowning in his delectable chocolate orbs and I'd be ready to give him more than a smile or a few minutes of my company.
"What brings you to this beautiful beach, Evelyn?" Her name sounded sinfully sweet rolling off his full lips, the urge to taste them nearly overwhelming her. What is wrong with me? I have to control myself.
Don't I?
"Work."
"I don't know what job you have, but if it means hanging out on a beautiful beach, sign me up."
Her eyes widened along with her smile. "I wish. I'm an attorney. I've been working on a huge deal for one of my clients, and we wrapped everything up yesterday. I'm enjoying a day or two of relaxation before heading home."
"Same here, except I'm not an attorney and," the smile faded, "I'm not going home."
Wanting to lighten his sadness, she put her hand over his and winked. "We're practically twins."
Her efforts worked as the sparkle returned, crinkling his eyes in amusement. Powers of persuasion—still got 'em. Wanting to make sure he knew how much she appreciated what he was doing for his country, she added. "Thank you for your service, soldier. Where is home and when will you get to see your family again?"
His hand turned under hers and squeezed gently. "I'd rather talk about you and your success."
The hypnotic timbre of his voice caressed and cajoled every measure of resolve she possessed. Normally, she wouldn't humor a complete stranger who was, most likely, only trying to seduce her. Before she could either answer his question or shut down his line of questioning, the vibration of her phone clamored for attention. She offered an apologetic smile, though she was grateful for the distraction. "Evelyn Walters."
* * *
The removal of her hand from his sent a wave of disappointment cresting over his spirit. She wanted to talk to him, share with him. He just knew it. Of course, he had more carnal designs on their time together, but she was a smart and stunning woman so no doubt she'd already determined his ultimate intention. So much for never using the word stunning again.
"That is unacceptable!" The sharp tone of her voice brought him out of the fantasy starting to play in his head starring Evelyn, a beach towel, and a rapidly disappearing bikini. Her smile stealing his breath as he sketched the lines of her body.
She stood and tossed a pile of rupees on the table. He stood as well, hoping to catch her attention so they could meet up for a moonlit walk on the beach after her business finished. Instead, she bumped into him making her exit, apparently forgetting he was even there. She stopped abruptly and touched his arm, moving the phone away from those beautiful lips he'd been wanting to kiss for hours now. "I'm sorry. I have to take this. Maybe another time?"
So close.
He sighed and scanned the bar area. Sam was leaning against one of the large wooden columns supporting the thatched roof talking to a petite brunette. From her athletic build, probably someone he'd met on his run today.
Daniel had cornered a redhead and, from all appearances, was closing in on a victory with their bet if his roaming hands were any indicator. Lucky sonofabitch. Not because of the bet, but the fact he never had to sleep alone unless he wanted. Not that Daniel or his chosen date slept any if the stories were to be believed.
Moving his gaze away from his friend, he scanned the bar to see if anyone else caught his eye. Only a couple days of leave left and then reality and his bunkmates awaited. Between the obscene noises, smelly socks, and crude comments, the thought of sleeping in the same room with them only added to his misery. Several women offered their best as he surveyed, but they didn't ignite the fire in his belly like Evelyn did. Calm, cool, and controlled Evelyn.
"I'm enjoying a day or two of relaxing before I head home." Her words whispered in his brain as he remembered the earlier part of their conversation. She wouldn't be leaving until around the same time he did.
Still plenty of time to enjoy a night or two of pleasure with the woman all others paled in comparison to.
Confidence infused his veins, heating the residual chill in his bones from her hasty departure. A walk on the beach by himself to clear his head was just what the doctor ordered for this survivor. He'd survived leaving the only home he'd ever known to travel halfway across the world to fight in a land filled with enemies. Survived a bullet taking a chunk out of his thigh while the same enemy took the lives of his friends. Survived heartbreak when Natasha had neither written nor taken his calls after he joined the service to honor his best friend's sacrifice.
He'd survive one more night without the beautiful woman who'd captivated him from the first time she'd entered his field of vision. The woman who could only be described with one word.
Stunning.
CHAPTER THREE
The walk on the beach hadn't lasted long. The night sky, complete with a full moon glinting off the dark water had soothed his spirit, but the chill in the air as the temperature continued to drop seeped into the wound on his thigh and limited his mobility. The doctor assured him the pain would ease over time as the body continued the healing process. Unfortunately, patience had never really been a strong character attribute for him.
Turning to head to the bar and his friends, he couldn't believe when he saw her standing there along the shoreline. Her blonde hair blowing in the breeze drew him to her like a moth to the flame. At this rate, she may get a restraining order against him. He wasn't stalking her, but with the number of times their paths had crossed, she wouldn't be crazy to think he'd been hunting her down like prey. Moving to stand quietly beside her, he asked. "You get your business problem straightened out?"
"Marginally." One word. Clean. Crisp. Curt.
"Then our date for tomorrow is still on?" He didn't look her way but smiled as he felt her disbelieving stare burn into his cheek.
"I don't recall our making a date." Still clean and crisp, but he detected a slight softening in her tone.
"You were about to agree to one before your phone rang."
"Pretty confident of that, are you?"
He fought to contain the bubble of laughter gurgling deep in his belly. "Yes, ma'am."
"Ma'am, seriously?"
He almost had her. "Seriously. I distinctly remember Ms. Stunning agreeing to a picnic lunch tomorrow at noon on the beach with Mr. Late to the Party."
Her chuckle made him forget the protests of his leg. "Does Mr. Late to the Party have a location or should I just wait for your super-stalker skills to find me again?"
She won. He couldn't hold it back any longer and allowed the laughter to escape in a full belly laugh he felt all the way to his toes. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?" He turned to look at her, relieved to see her smile in the moonlight. So damn beautiful. Images of his earlier fantasy, sketching her nude body sprawled out on the beach, tightened his shorts uncomfortably. "How about where we first met?"
"You mean where you first undressed me with your eyes or where we actually first met?" Her ice blue eyes narrowed in his direction.
Risking everything, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. Her skin felt cool against his hot mouth. He lavished the entire area with kisses before his gaze found her eyes again. Eyes that had softened and warmed from his attention, he hoped. "Technically, I didn't undress you with my eyes until the second time I stalked you. The first time, I imagined sketching you. And," he quickly added, "You were still in your suit that time. I can neither confirm nor deny my thoughts afterward."
"You're an artist?" Her voice was breathy and barely more than a whisper.
One more kiss to her hand, this time to the pulse point on the inside of her wrist. "Meet me tomorrow for our picnic lunch, and you can question this witness at your leisure."
He watched her eyes as he waited for her decision. No guts, no glory, that's what they say. Whoever they are. After at least an eternity passed, if not two, she nodded. "Noon it is."
CHAPTER FOUR
Evelyn smiled. Not only was this man incredibly handsome, funny and sweet, he was prompt as well. She'd planned on arriving early at their agreed-upon spot and teasing him about being late to the party again. Not only had he arrived before her, but the blanket and all the picnic fixings were laid out waiting. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth to moisten her lips as she considered the best part of the spread: his bronzed, muscular chest with just a smattering of black, curly hair. Just the way I like it… Always a sucker for the more athletic builds, she believed a well-toned body indicated discipline and control. Two of her favorite things. At his charming smile, she admitted good genes never hurt either.
"Look who's late to the party now. Care for a glass of the purest spring water on earth, if the label is to be believed?" He held up a glass filled with ice and crystal clear water as his gaze swept over her body, adding to the heat from the midday sun.
Sexy. Desirable. Wanted. Treasured. In one look, he made her believe all of those qualities somehow still resided deep inside of the woman she pretended to be ninety-nine percent of the time. Cool, calm, controlled Evelyn Walters, attorney-at-law. Though the attorney persona had been the reason for her trip to the shores of India, it was time for the one percent to have its turn. Grabbing the hem of her cover-up, she lifted the black cloth until it cleared her head revealing a two-piece turquoise suit. Returning his gaze, the temperature in their little corner of the world increased by several degrees. "Am I forgiven now for being late to the party?" Is that husky voice mine?
His hand lifted to help steady her as she sought to gracefully lower her thirty-plus-year-old body to the blanket. "You have nothing to be sorry about, nothing at all." He lifted her hand to kiss it again. "I know stunning is off the table, but how about sexy?"
Sexy is good. Not wanting this to get out of control…yet, she laughed and pushed him with the hand he still held, landing him in a prone position on the blanket. The length of his tanned body, clothed only in dark blue swim shorts, prompted another instinctual licking of her lips. The image of his body over hers started the butterflies in motion again. So much for not getting out of control too soon.
He'd managed to balance the glass of water he offered earlier precariously in the other hand. Only a few drops had sloshed out as he toppled backward. Graceful and strong. She leaned over and grabbed the glass from his grip, ignoring the flames of desire lighting the brown of his eyes before they transformed to pools of the darkest chocolate. I could get lost in his eyes for hours, maybe even days, at a time. The icy water helped cool her ardor a bit and restored some focus. "Were you planning on feeding me during this picnic lunch you invited me to or simply devouring me with your eyes?"
Her eyes were drawn to the muscles in his stomach as they contracted, lifting him to a sitting position without the use of his hands. Every ounce of restraint in her body was called into service to keep her fingers from reaching over to trace his six-pack abs. If the definition of his body was any indicator, he didn't allow himself to consume too many six packs on a regular basis.
"Sweetheart, if I devoured you, it wouldn't be with my eyes."
Sultry. Sexy. Sinful. This man spelled trouble with a capital S. Grinning, she teased, "Stunning, sexy, and sweetheart, are you capable of referring to me only with words beginning with the same letter?" Never mind she'd just found three S words for him as well.
Her attempt to cool things down a bit worked, and he smiled. "Let me finish off with starving, because that's how hungry I am. Maybe with some food in my stomach, I can find a new letter to work with."
She merely nodded as her attention was drawn to those strong hands while he pointed to each delicacy on the blanket. "Crab cake, samosa, and fried idli, a close kin to the potato wedges we have back home, but much spicier. We end our meal with an assortment of fresh fruit." He grinned. "Most of it I recognize, some is local fare, and I thought it would be fun to be adventurous. Are you feeling adventurous today?"
More adventurous than I can remember feeling in a very, very long time. "I'm here, aren't I?"
Capable fingers lifted a piece of the idli to her lips, and she opened to receive the morsel. She chewed slowly, wanting to savor the new flavor. Finally, she swallowed.
"Well?" His expectant look endeared her even more to this charming man.
"The consistency isn't what I'm used to, but the spice is just right."
He pushed the plate of food over toward her and picked up another piece of the idli and popped it into his mouth. His sampling took only a few seconds. "Helluva lot better than an MRE for sure. The first one was my treat—you're going to have to feed yourself for a bit as my stomach is demanding attention."
She laughed, grateful he wasn't going to try to feed her every bite. She was strong, but could any woman really be expected to resist temptation when he lounged only a few feet away romantically feeding her lunch? Expected—maybe. Practical—no way. "I've been feeding myself for years now, pretty sure I can manage on my own for a few minutes."
To prove her point, she grabbed a samosa and took a bite. A few crumbs escaped and lingered at the corner of her mouth. Her lungs stopped working the moment his hand cupped her cheek, the thumb wiping away the errant food. "I will resume my duties for dessert. Can't have the fruit juice making you all sticky." His thumb slid across her lips again. "Though, I would happily clean up any juices daring to run down your chin onto your throat." His hand slid lower, following the succulent path he'd just described.
Sweet mother of Jesus, she needed to breathe. Pinpricks of pleasure added to the butterfly wings prompting her to press her thighs together, desperate to relieve the building pressure. While tossing and turning in bed last night, she'd worried if she could make it another night without dragging him back to her room and asking him to make her forget everything and everyone for a night. Now she worried if she could make it through lunch. A deep inhale and exhale assured her that her lungs still functioned. Lifting a crab cake, she paused before popping it in her mouth. "If you plan on not being late to the dessert party, I suggest you start eating."
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