In Hot Water. Mary Baxter Lynn
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“Fancy us meeting like this,” he said, his tone sarcastic. “I see it as one of those meant-to-be things.”
Maci glared at him. She’d be damned if she was going to let him stroll down memory lane. Their past was off-limits.
“Yes, fancy that.” She heard the defiant note in her tone as their eyes met.
The effect was galvanizing.
Maci sucked in her breath, and he cursed. Later she didn’t know who turned away first. At the time, she didn’t care. For her own self-preservation, she couldn’t have looked at him another second. “Look, I know this…us…is awkward, but—”
“I thought about trying to find you.”
Her heart skipped several beats and she tried to avert her gaze, but found that she couldn’t. “Holt—”
“Holt, what?” His tone thickened. “Don’t say what’s been on my mind for two years.”
“Stop it,” she muttered tersely, leaning closer as though fearing someone would hear their conversation. “I told myself I wouldn’t let you dredge up the past.”
“Too late, honey. The past has slam-dunked us both.”
In Hot Water
Mary Lynn Baxter
To Warren and Wayne Elledge
for all their invaluable help.
Thanks, guys!
Contents
Prologue
She knew she shouldn’t be dancing so intimately with a complete stranger.
And she shouldn’t be enjoying it, especially when there was no music. But she was. His strong arms and callused hands were like nothing she’d ever experienced.
Still, this was crazy behavior. She’d come on a mission to this Jamaican paradise, but it wasn’t to get involved with a man.
“You feel so right in my arms,” he whispered against her ear.
Each touch, each caress made her burn inside.
He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?
“Yes.” Her breathing quickened. “I mean no.”
He laughed even as he pulled her closer, their bodies swaying in the light breeze. In the distance, she could hear the ocean raising as much havoc as her heart.
She had seen him the first day she and her three friends had arrived on the island. He had intrigued her immediately. He wasn’t classically handsome. His shoulders were broader and his arms more muscular than those of any man she knew. His abs were cut to perfection. Rugged was an apt description. She figured that was what had aroused such a wild streak in her.
Character lines had been etched into his tanned face by the sun and wind,