Staying Afloat
I have a gun!
The absolute gall of that man! Thinking he could swim in her pool and get away with it! Well, she'd show him!
Keeping her breathing slow and steady, Tessa tiptoed across the patio. When the trespasse didn’t turn around, but reached for his T-shirt, she let go of the breath caught in her throat. Humming some tuneless melody, he sat down on the sundrenched tiles, rubbed his feet with the T-shirt and picked up a sock. Sticking her two fingers out, Tessa shoved the points between his shoulder blades and shouted out in her most authoritative voice,
‘Don’t move. I have a gun.’
He stopped humming, his back went rigid and he dropped his sock.
‘Okay, don’t get excited.’ His voice was gruff and tight with annoyance. He sounded Irish, but there was something else about his accent she couldn’t quite place.
‘Put your hands up, but don’t turn around.’
His skin felt warm, but the muscles beneath were hard as rock, flexing under her fingers as he raised his arms. Up close, he looked a lot more dangerous. Tessa spotted a faded tattoo across his left bicep. Ridged white scar lines criss-crossed the tanned skin of his back. But then she noticed something else. Despite the impressive muscles across his shoulders and upper arms, he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He was so lean, she could make out his ribs. A Goliath who didn’t eat properly? How odd.
‘Listen, put the gun down and I’ll get out of here. No harm, no foul.’
He started to turn. She prodded her fingers harder into his spine.
‘Don’t turn around, I said.’
‘Easy.’ He didn’t sound scared, just really pissed off. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all. ‘I’m putting my hands down,’ he ground out. ‘I’ve been on the bike all day and I’m beat.’ He lowered his arms.
The seconds ticked by interminably.
‘So what do we do now?’ he asked. Tessa’s heart hammered against her rib-cage and sweat pooled between her breasts. Hell, she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Where was her sister? Her fingers were starting to hurt.
‘Where you from? You sound English?’ he said.
‘I think where you’re from is probably a more pertinent question,’ Tessa shot back. No arrogant trespasser was going to charm her. He leaned forward. Tessa’s heart jolted in her chest. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Grabbing my socks. Any objections?’ The response was measured, calm and condescending. Tessa bristled.
‘Fine, but next time ask permission.’ Just as she issued the order her tightly clamped fingers twitched. The trespasser’s back tensed and his head swung round. Oops! ‘Damn it!’
Tessa jumped back, yelping, as her prey shot up and grabbed her in one quick, furious movement. ‘Let me go,’ she shrieked, struggling to pull her arms free as his large hands clamped on them like manacles.
‘The finger routine. I got to hand it to you, I never thought I’d fall for that one.’ Striking blue eyes stared daggers at her out of a face that would have done Michelangelo proud. The man was quite simply beautiful. Tessa gulped, momentarily transfixed, taking in the high, slashing cheekbones, the rakish stubble on his chin and the dare-devil scar across his left eyebrow. Adonis or not, his face was as hard as granite. He looked ready to murder someone and, from the way his fingers dug into her arms, she knew exactly who it was. Her heart rate shot up to warp speed. Don’t pass out, you silly cow. This is no time to panic. Twisting, Tessa kicked out with her bare foot and connected with his shin.
‘Ow! Stop that, you little…’ he yelled, yanking her towards him and wrapping his arms around her.
‘Let me go. You—you trespasser.’ With her face pressed against the soft, curling hair on his chest, the demand came out on a muffled squeak. The smell of fresh, wet male was overpowering. She lifted her knee, intending to stamp on his foot, but before she could make contact he tensed and shot backwards.
‘Watch out!’ His hands let go. Tessa turned, poised to bolt for freedom, but he grabbed her from behind. Strong arms banded under her breasts, he lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing at all. She kicked, frantically, but he was holding her so close, so tight, she couldn’t get any leverage. Okay, now was the perfect time to panic.
‘My sister’s in the house with a shotgun,’ she squealed.
‘Yeah, right.’ His arms tightened, cutting off more of her air supply. ‘You’re a danger to society, you know that?’ The buzzing in Tessa’s ears became deafening. She was going to faint. His whole body was wrapped around her. His size, his strength, overwhelmed her. Why hadn’t she listened to Ali? How the hell did she always get into these situations? And how was she going to get out of this one? The whisper of his breathing against her ear made her shudder. What would Bruce Lee do now? Think, woman, think.
‘I’m warning you,’ she said, through gritted teeth. ‘If you don’t let me go, I’ll hurt you, a lot.’
Niall’s lips twitched. Having gotten over the humiliation of falling for his captive’s harebrained stunt, he had to admire her gall. The threat was ridiculous. She was close to a foot shorter than him and slender, too, despite the impressive curves he could feel pressed against his forearms.
‘You’re a real firecracker, aren’t you?’ She must have heard the admiration in his voice, because she went very still. He loosened his arms a little. He should probably let her go and get the hell out of here, but she felt good in his arms, round and soft in all the right places. He wasn’t going to hurt her, but he figured she deserved a little payback. After all, she’d scared the hell out of him. ‘So how exactly are you going to hurt me?’ He purred the words in her ear.
‘You don’t frighten me, you sod.’
‘Sod, huh?’ He grinned; her clipped, precise accent made her sound like the lady of the manor addressing one of her peasants. It made him think of all those summers he’d spent in London as a kid with his English grandmother. It was one of the very few good memories from his childhood. He grinned. ‘You are English, I’d know that accent anywhere. Hell, I’m half English myself. Kind of.’
‘Isn’t that lovely for you?’
Funny, but she didn’t remind him of prim and proper Granny Lacey one bit.
‘Tut-tut.’ He inhaled the heady scent from her wildly curling hair. ‘And my sweet little granny always used to say English manners were the best in the world.’
‘I’ll give you manners,’ she snarled, wriggling some more. He laughed, really starting to enjoy himself. She was rigid in his arms, but he could feel her chest heaving with fury. He could imagine that pretty face of hers, glowing with temper. High cheekbones, smooth peach-toned skin, the sprinkle of freckles across her pert little nose, and those large, expressive sea-green eyes. He’d only glimpsed her face for a moment, but it had made a hell of an impression. She struggled again, and the firm swell of her butt pressed against his naked belly through the clingy little dress she had on. The strong surge of arousal surprised him. He tightened his arms. She smelled good, too.
‘You know, you’re cute.’ He smiled, nuzzling her hair. ‘When you’re not trying to kill me.’
‘You are so going to die,’ she snapped back.
‘Get your hands off her!’ Niall’s head jerked up to the sound of a voice.
Keeping her breathing slow and steady, Tessa tiptoed across the patio. When the trespasse didn’t turn around, but reached for his T-shirt, she let go of the breath caught in her throat. Humming some tuneless melody, he sat down on the sundrenched tiles, rubbed his feet with the T-shirt and picked up a sock. Sticking her two fingers out, Tessa shoved the points between his shoulder blades and shouted out in her most authoritative voice,
‘Don’t move. I have a gun.’
He stopped humming, his back went rigid and he dropped his sock.
‘Okay, don’t get excited.’ His voice was gruff and tight with annoyance. He sounded Irish, but there was something else about his accent she couldn’t quite place.
‘Put your hands up, but don’t turn around.’
His skin felt warm, but the muscles beneath were hard as rock, flexing under her fingers as he raised his arms. Up close, he looked a lot more dangerous. Tessa spotted a faded tattoo across his left bicep. Ridged white scar lines criss-crossed the tanned skin of his back. But then she noticed something else. Despite the impressive muscles across his shoulders and upper arms, he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He was so lean, she could make out his ribs. A Goliath who didn’t eat properly? How odd.
‘Listen, put the gun down and I’ll get out of here. No harm, no foul.’
He started to turn. She prodded her fingers harder into his spine.
‘Don’t turn around, I said.’
‘Easy.’ He didn’t sound scared, just really pissed off. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all. ‘I’m putting my hands down,’ he ground out. ‘I’ve been on the bike all day and I’m beat.’ He lowered his arms.
The seconds ticked by interminably.
‘So what do we do now?’ he asked. Tessa’s heart hammered against her rib-cage and sweat pooled between her breasts. Hell, she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Where was her sister? Her fingers were starting to hurt.
‘Where you from? You sound English?’ he said.
‘I think where you’re from is probably a more pertinent question,’ Tessa shot back. No arrogant trespasser was going to charm her. He leaned forward. Tessa’s heart jolted in her chest. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Grabbing my socks. Any objections?’ The response was measured, calm and condescending. Tessa bristled.
‘Fine, but next time ask permission.’ Just as she issued the order her tightly clamped fingers twitched. The trespasser’s back tensed and his head swung round. Oops! ‘Damn it!’
Tessa jumped back, yelping, as her prey shot up and grabbed her in one quick, furious movement. ‘Let me go,’ she shrieked, struggling to pull her arms free as his large hands clamped on them like manacles.
‘The finger routine. I got to hand it to you, I never thought I’d fall for that one.’ Striking blue eyes stared daggers at her out of a face that would have done Michelangelo proud. The man was quite simply beautiful. Tessa gulped, momentarily transfixed, taking in the high, slashing cheekbones, the rakish stubble on his chin and the dare-devil scar across his left eyebrow. Adonis or not, his face was as hard as granite. He looked ready to murder someone and, from the way his fingers dug into her arms, she knew exactly who it was. Her heart rate shot up to warp speed. Don’t pass out, you silly cow. This is no time to panic. Twisting, Tessa kicked out with her bare foot and connected with his shin.
‘Ow! Stop that, you little…’ he yelled, yanking her towards him and wrapping his arms around her.
‘Let me go. You—you trespasser.’ With her face pressed against the soft, curling hair on his chest, the demand came out on a muffled squeak. The smell of fresh, wet male was overpowering. She lifted her knee, intending to stamp on his foot, but before she could make contact he tensed and shot backwards.
‘Watch out!’ His hands let go. Tessa turned, poised to bolt for freedom, but he grabbed her from behind. Strong arms banded under her breasts, he lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing at all. She kicked, frantically, but he was holding her so close, so tight, she couldn’t get any leverage. Okay, now was the perfect time to panic.
‘My sister’s in the house with a shotgun,’ she squealed.
‘Yeah, right.’ His arms tightened, cutting off more of her air supply. ‘You’re a danger to society, you know that?’ The buzzing in Tessa’s ears became deafening. She was going to faint. His whole body was wrapped around her. His size, his strength, overwhelmed her. Why hadn’t she listened to Ali? How the hell did she always get into these situations? And how was she going to get out of this one? The whisper of his breathing against her ear made her shudder. What would Bruce Lee do now? Think, woman, think.
‘I’m warning you,’ she said, through gritted teeth. ‘If you don’t let me go, I’ll hurt you, a lot.’
Niall’s lips twitched. Having gotten over the humiliation of falling for his captive’s harebrained stunt, he had to admire her gall. The threat was ridiculous. She was close to a foot shorter than him and slender, too, despite the impressive curves he could feel pressed against his forearms.
‘You’re a real firecracker, aren’t you?’ She must have heard the admiration in his voice, because she went very still. He loosened his arms a little. He should probably let her go and get the hell out of here, but she felt good in his arms, round and soft in all the right places. He wasn’t going to hurt her, but he figured she deserved a little payback. After all, she’d scared the hell out of him. ‘So how exactly are you going to hurt me?’ He purred the words in her ear.
‘You don’t frighten me, you sod.’
‘Sod, huh?’ He grinned; her clipped, precise accent made her sound like the lady of the manor addressing one of her peasants. It made him think of all those summers he’d spent in London as a kid with his English grandmother. It was one of the very few good memories from his childhood. He grinned. ‘You are English, I’d know that accent anywhere. Hell, I’m half English myself. Kind of.’
‘Isn’t that lovely for you?’
Funny, but she didn’t remind him of prim and proper Granny Lacey one bit.
‘Tut-tut.’ He inhaled the heady scent from her wildly curling hair. ‘And my sweet little granny always used to say English manners were the best in the world.’
‘I’ll give you manners,’ she snarled, wriggling some more. He laughed, really starting to enjoy himself. She was rigid in his arms, but he could feel her chest heaving with fury. He could imagine that pretty face of hers, glowing with temper. High cheekbones, smooth peach-toned skin, the sprinkle of freckles across her pert little nose, and those large, expressive sea-green eyes. He’d only glimpsed her face for a moment, but it had made a hell of an impression. She struggled again, and the firm swell of her butt pressed against his naked belly through the clingy little dress she had on. The strong surge of arousal surprised him. He tightened his arms. She smelled good, too.
‘You know, you’re cute.’ He smiled, nuzzling her hair. ‘When you’re not trying to kill me.’
‘You are so going to die,’ she snapped back.
‘Get your hands off her!’ Niall’s head jerked up to the sound of a voice.
8/15/13