by Sarah Morgan
‘A flat-chested friend.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘I’ve never had one of those before. Do you know what I really fancy right now?’
Her heart thumped wildly. ‘I hardly dare ask.’
‘A cigarette.’
It wasn’t what she’d wanted him to say and she let out a breath, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Drop the fantasies, Flora. ‘I didn’t know you smoked.’
‘I don’t. At least, not for years. I just need something to relieve the tension. I’ll have to find another way.’
Flora stiffened. He was talking about sex, she knew he was. And there was no doubt in her mind that there were any number of women on Glenmore who would be only too delighted to offer him the distraction he wanted.
And he was stuck on the beach with her.
Boring Flora.
He looked at her. ‘I suppose it’s a waste of time asking if you have any cigarettes?’
‘Complete waste of time,’ she said lightly. Boring, staid Flora.
‘Anything to drink?’
‘I have a small bottle of mineral water in my bag.’
‘Mineral water?’ He laughed. ‘You really know how to live, don’t you? Nothing like a few minerals to get a person into a party mood. Tell me, Flora Harris, what do you do to release tension? Read a chapter of War and Peace?’
She smiled. ‘If I can’t sail, then I swim.’
‘You swim?’
‘In the sea. Every morning. I love it. It relaxes me.’
‘You take your clothes off?’
‘No, I swim in my uniform.’ Flora glanced at him in amusement. ‘Of course I take my clothes off. What did you think?’
‘I’ve no idea. I’ve made a point of never picturing you without clothes on.’
‘Thanks.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘If you’re taking that as an insult then you’re even more naïve than I think you are.’
‘I’m not naïve.’
‘Yes, you are. The reason I don’t picture you without clothes is because then I’ll start thinking about you in a way that would make Logan punch me.’
Her heart was racing. ‘Logan isn’t my keeper.’
‘Good point.’ He rose to his feet and tugged her up beside him. ‘Come on, then, Flora Harris. We’ll try the swim. See if it works.’
‘Now?’ Her voice was an astonished squeak. ‘It’s one in the morning.’
‘Less crowded than one in the afternoon.’
She gave a strangled laugh. ‘Yes, I suppose it is. I don’t have a costume.’
He gave a wicked smile and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. ‘The point of skinny dipping is that you don’t need clothes.’ His hands dropped to the fastening at the waistband of his trousers and her cheeks warmed as she caught a glimpse of taut, muscular stomach and dark male body hair.
‘For goodness’ sake, Conner…’
‘What? You just said “Of course I take my clothes off.” So that’s what I’m doing.’
‘Obviously, I wear a costume.’
‘Obviously.’ He grinned. ‘Because you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. But me being me, I’m not going to bother.’ Completely unselfconscious, he stepped out of his trousers and boxer shorts and Flora gave a nervous laugh, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the horizon.
‘You’re going to get yourself arrested, Conner MacNeil.’
‘It’s dark. No one knows we’re here.’ His hands were on the hem of her T-shirt. ‘Come on, Flora. Take a risk. Live a little. Get naked with me.’
Take a risk. Live a little.
Suddenly the world opened up in front of her and her heart thundered in her chest. ‘I am not swimming naked with you.’
‘If the water is as cold as I suspect it’s going to be, you’re at no risk from me, darling, but if it makes you feel better you can leave your underwear on.’ He gently pulled the T-shirt over her head and slid her shorts down her legs.
As his fingers brushed her skin and she shivered.
She knew she should stop him, but she couldn’t, and when he closed his hand firmly over hers and dragged her down to the water’s edge, she didn’t resist.
And then the water touched her feet and she stopped dead. ‘Oh, my goodness, that’s cold.’
‘Don’t be a wimp.’ He jerked her forward. ‘This was your idea and you’re not bottling out now. Anyway, what are you complaining about?’ Conner kept walking, long steady strides that took him deeper into the sea. ‘It’s like bathwater. I can’t imagine why anyone would travel all the way to the Mediterranean when we have this on our doorstep.’ He gave her no choice but to wade in with him and she picked her way gingerly through the dark, swirling water, catching her breath as the waves licked higher and higher on her legs.
‘I’m not sure if I like doing this in the middle of the night.’ She peered towards her feet. ‘Do you think there are jellyfish?’
‘No. It’s long past their bedtime. They’re all curled up asleep with hot-water bottles.’ The water was halfway up his thighs now and as a wave washed over him at waist level, he cursed fluently. ‘I think we’ve just discovered a whole new non-surgical method of vasectomy. If any of my sperm survive this experience, it will be a miracle.’
Flora giggled helplessly and wondered what had come over her. What was she doing? She was standing in the sea at one o’clock in the morning with Conner MacNeil, the most dangerous, unsuitable man she was every likely to meet.
And she was having the time of her life.
‘This is freezing. I don’t think I can go in any further.’
‘The only way to do this is quickly. If you do this every morning then I have new respect for you, Flora. You’re twice the woman I thought you were, flat chest or no flat chest.’
‘It’s bracing. It wakes me up.’
‘No surprise there. If this didn’t wake you up, you’d have to be dead.’
‘It’s colder tonight.’ She clutched him tightly, afraid that the waves would knock her over, and he steadied her and then released her hand.
‘All right, let’s do this…’ He dived forward into the waves and she had a brief glimpse of powerful male muscle and strong legs before he vanished from sight.
She rubbed her hands down her arms, knowing that the goose-bumps had nothing to do with the cold water and everything to do with the way her body had felt next to his. How was it possible to feel hot when she was standing waist deep in freezing seawater?
She followed him into the waves, wondering why she’d never swum in the moonlight before. In all the years she’d lived here and swum here, she’d never done this. And it was fabulous. Magical. The stars and the moon shone in the clear sky and the water glistened.
And she felt daring and more alive than she’d ever felt.
She was so enchanted by her surroundings that she gasped with shock when Conner emerged next to her.
There was just enough light for her to see the outline of his face and the faint glitter in his eyes as he reached out and pulled her against him. ‘I can’t believe I’m skinny dipping with Flora Harris. Looks like I’ve finally corrupted you.’
‘I like being corrupted.’ She kept her voice light, trying not to reveal how it felt to be this close to him. She could feel the hardness of his thighs against hers and, despite his complaints about the cold water, a building pressure against her abdomen. ‘And I’m not naked.’
‘Not yet.’
‘Conner…’ To keep her balance she placed her hands on his shoulders and felt the smooth swell of hard male muscle under her fingers.
His mouth was dangerously close to hers. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said.’
Thinking? How could he think? ‘What did I say?’
‘That you were the only female on the island that I haven’t kissed.’
‘I was wrong.’ She was so aware of him that could barely speak, ‘I’m fairly sure you haven’t kissed Ann Carne, and Mrs Parker may have escaped, too.’
‘Good point.’ He lifted
his hands and cupped her face gently. ‘Nevertheless, it’s only fair to warn you that I might be about to corrupt you further. You might want to run for the beach. I’ll give you a two-second start.’
Her heart pounded like the hooves of a racehorse on the home stretch. ‘Two seconds doesn’t sound like much.’
‘It’s all you’re getting. Take it or leave it.’
She couldn’t take her eyes from his and the anticipation was agonising. ‘I’ll leave it. I can’t run in these waves.’ He was going to kiss her.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Conner MacNeil was going to kiss her.
‘If you can’t run, then you’re trapped.’ His head moved closer but he didn’t touch her. Instead, his mouth hovered tantalisingly close to hers, the expression in his eyes knowing and wickedly sexy as he prolonged the torture for both of them. Her stomach tumbled and her senses hummed and when finally he brushed his lips over hers, she knew that this was the most perfect and exciting thing that had ever happened to her. His lips were cool and the tip of his tongue gently caressed her lower lip.
Heat exploded inside her and she made a soft sound in her throat and leaned against him, seeking more. Her eyes closed, but still she saw stars as everything inside her erupted with excitement.
His fingers closed hard around her arms and his body shifted against hers.
‘Hell, Flora…’ This time his mouth came down hard, his kiss sending bolts of electricity through her body, and she clutched at him for support as he drew the fire from deep inside her with the skilled, sensual stroke of his tongue. And she kissed him back, her tongue toying with his in a kiss that was both intimate and erotic. His hands dropped from her face and slid down her back, pulling her against him in a movement that was unmistakably possessive.
It was a kiss with promise and purpose but before she had the chance to discover where it was leading, there was a shout.
With a groan of frustration and anger Conner dragged his mouth from hers and Flora clutched at him for support, dizzy and disoriented from the kiss. It took her a moment to realise that the sound was coming from the beach behind them.
‘Conner? Conner MacNeil, is that you? It’s Jim—Jim from the ferry and a few of the lads. We wanted to buy you a drink.’
‘Oh, my goodness.’ Flora shrank with embarrassment. ‘They can’t possibly see us, can they? It’s too dark.’
Conner stared down at her for a moment, his lashes lowered, his eyes as cool and defiant as ever. ‘Do you care?’
Flora didn’t answer because she genuinely didn’t know the answer to that. This was her island. And it was her reputation on the line. She should care, she knew she should. But his kiss had changed everything. It was as if her life had reached a crossroads and she didn’t know which path to take—the safe one was back on the shore and the dangerous one was here, in the sea, with Conner’s hard male body pressed against hers.
‘Flora?’ His voice was even and she wondered how he could sound so normal after what they’d shared. She felt far from normal. She felt churned up, confused—different.
She breathed in and out. She knew that it was too dark for them to have recognised her, but if she walked out of the water with Conner…
She wanted to say, Damn the lot of them, and carry on kissing him, but something held her back. ‘I—I don’t know, Conner.’ Her fingers tightened on his arms. ‘I suppose I do care. I have to work with these people. I’ll still be living on this island long after you’ve left.’
He released her abruptly. ‘Of course you will. Stay here. I’ll get them away from you and you can get home before anyone is any the wiser. I guess that’s more chivalrous than escorting you home.’ He spoke with a careless indifference and she felt a flash of desperation as she sensed his withdrawal and felt her new self slipping away.
Suddenly she wished desperately that she hadn’t spoken.
The person who had spoken had been the girl she’d been all her life, but now she wasn’t sure if she was that girl any more. She didn’t know if she wanted to be that girl.
She wanted to be daring and careless of the consequences, like him. She wanted to live in the moment and not think about what other people thought. She wanted to kiss Conner MacNeil and enjoy every second of the excitement.
Without his hands to steady her, she almost stumbled as a wave hit her from the back and the shower of cold water seemed symbolic.
It was over.
Her moment of wild living had passed and she was back to being boring Flora. Sensible Flora. A girl who would never swim half-naked in the sea with a very unsuitable man.
But did she really want to be that girl?
‘Conner, wait.’ She grabbed his arm. ‘I don’t care about them. I don’t care if they see us.’
It took him a moment to reply and when he did, his voice was rough. ‘Yes, you do, angel. And quite right, too. How are you going to have a proper conversation with Mrs Parker if word gets round that you’ve been cavorting in the waves with Bad Conner? Be grateful to the locals. You’ve been saved from total corruption by the brave and persistent citizens of Glenmore.’
She didn’t know what to say to rescue the situation so she tried to joke about it. ‘Isn’t it typical? The first time I try to be wild, I have an audience.’
He laughed, then lifted a hand and drew his thumb slowly over her lower lip, the intimacy of the gesture in direct contrast to his words. ‘I’ve had more excitement being shot at in the desert.’ His tone was sarcastic but the look in his eyes made her dizzy.
‘I’m sure.’
His smile faded. ‘You’re not made for this, Flora, and both of us know it. You need a man you’re not ashamed to be seen with, so let’s end this now before we both do something that will keep the locals talking for years. I’ll swim to the other side of the beach and meet them there. Stay in the water until I’m out and they won’t see you. Can you make your way home safely?’
‘Of course. Do I look helpless?’
‘No, you look sexy.’ He gave a wicked smile and lowered his mouth to hers once more, his lips and tongue working a seductive magic that made the world spin. Then he lifted his head reluctantly and gave a resigned shrug. ‘Sorry about that. Just couldn’t help myself. Once bad, always bad, or so it would seem. You just had a lucky escape, Flora Harris. Five more minutes and we would have been in the middle of a practical scientific experiment involving frozen body parts and libido.’ Without giving her time to respond, he called to the men on the shore. ‘Back off, guys. I’ll be with you in a minute.’ And then he plunged back into the waves and swam away from her with a powerful crawl.
* * *
Nodding to the locals who were toasting his health, Conner raised his glass to his lips and tried to decide whether he should be grateful or just punch them.
Five minutes more and he would have been completing the corruption of Flora.
So he should be grateful, obviously. If he’d followed the episode to its natural conclusion, Flora would now be steeped in embarrassment and regret.
He remembered her anguished gasp when she’d realised that they’d been spotted. Even in the semi-darkness he’d been able to see the burning colour of her cheeks.
Narrow escape for her. And for him, he told himself firmly. It was hard enough being back on Glenmore, without having that on his conscience.
He drank deeply, trying to obliterate the memory of the way she’d tasted and the way her body had felt pressed against his. She’d been lithe, slender, slippery from the seawater—
‘Conner MacNeil, am I drunk or are you really sitting there drinking cranberry juice?’
Conner looked at Jim. ‘You are drunk. And I am sitting here drinking cranberry juice.’
Jim focused on the glass in his hand. ‘It looks disgusting.’
‘It is disgusting.’ But not as disgusting as Evanna’s home-made lemonade, he thought with wry humour. Something stirred inside him as he remembered Flora standing on the grass, clutching a pic
nic basket.
‘When I offered to buy you a drink…’ Jim lifted a finger and waggled it in his direction ‘…I meant a proper drink. A man’s drink. What are you? Wimp or man?’
Dismissing thoughts of Flora’s soft mouth, Conner gave a careless lift of his shoulder. ‘Wimp, obviously.’
‘Leave the man alone.’ Nick Hillier, the island policeman, slapped Conner on the back. ‘A hero can relax in any way he chooses. Personally, I’m just glad it’s not alcohol. It will save me the bother of arresting him for drink-driving later.’
Jim hiccoughed lightly. ‘Your old man knew how to drink.’
An uncomfortable silence fell on the group of men who’d had less to drink than Jim, but Conner simply nodded. ‘He certainly did.’
Jim sniffed. ‘Couldn’t have been easy, living with that. Duncan MacNeil had one hell of a temper.’
‘You want me to cry on your shoulder?’
Jim shuddered. ‘You know what I want? I want to know who the girl was, Conner. That’s what I want.’ He winked at the others and Conner slowly lowered his glass to the table.
So they had seen. ‘No one.’
‘Bet she was pretty. You always did get the pretty ones. Hey, everyone…,’ Jim raised his voice to attract maximum attention. Then he hiccoughed again and lifted his glass in salute. ‘Conner was in the waves with “no one”.’
‘At least “no one” can’t nag at you,’ someone muttered, and Jim gave a snort.
‘She was real enough.’
‘We can torture it out of him.’ Nick suggested. ‘You have the right to remain silent—’
‘And I intend to,’ Conner drawled, his face expressionless. Inside, a slow anger burned. Anger towards himself and what he’d so nearly done. If they’d seen that it was Flora, what would that have done to her reputation? She was decent and sweet and, as she’d pointed out, she was going to be working on this island long after he’d turned his back on it for ever. She was also a shy and private person who would have hidden in a hole in the ground rather than have her name tossed carelessly around a group of men in a pub.
And with his selfish actions, he’d almost destroyed everything she’d worked for.