And me, what did I do?
I watched her.
I’d never felt like a creep before. I guess because I was someone who went after what he wanted when he wanted to, so I never found myself eye-fucking a woman for longer than a few moments before going over and shooting my shot.
The thing was, Shawn seemed to be bulletproof.
So the day turned to evening without her saying another word to me.
It was sometime several hours later, after I imagined she figured I’d fallen asleep, that I heard her making her way down the stairs.
Curious, I got out of bed where I hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, moving toward the windows at the back of the house.
And there she was.
In a barely-there yellow swimsuit that put her perfect body on display as she passed each of the motion-sensor lights. I was pretty sure I caught sight of some sort of tattoo snaking up her side, but she was too much in shadow to make it out.
My gaze followed her as she made her way toward the stairs that led up to the slide, and there was no denying the smile that tugged at my lips at realizing that was her intent.
To enjoy the amenities of the villa.
Without me knowing she was enjoying them.
I barely knew the woman, but it sure as hell seemed pretty on-brand for her.
I watched as she made it all the way to the top, pausing there, looking all, though there wasn’t much to see so late at night. Then she took a slow, deep breath before lowering herself down onto the top of the slide, going flat, then with a big-ass smile on her face, she pushed off.
And down she went.
I probably should have minded my own business, let her have one moment of private joy, but I couldn’t seem to make myself stay in my room.
I was right there at the ladder when she started coming up.
As if sensing my presence as her hands grabbed the bottom rungs, her head shot up.
“I hate you,” she declared. “Not your slide,” she added, making a chuckle escape me as she kept making her way up, the water cascading down her body as she got closer to the top. “Are you going to move, or what?” she asked, finding herself eye-level with my pelvis.
And she might never admit it, but her gaze slid over me in my shorts and nothing else. Her gaze lingered on my chest and abs, likely expecting to find me a little soft under all the suits. It would fit with her distaste of my kind to think we wouldn’t have any reason to hit the gym since our money could get us all the attention we might want.
But unlike many of my fellow former trust-fund kids, I’d been forced into the military when I was younger, something that had instilled in me a strict diligence when it came to taking care of my body.
Which meant she might have expected flat or even doughy, but I had the eight-pack I’d sported back in my military days.
She also may have been surprised to see the scars.
I was in no short supply of them.
“Or what,” I responded, watching as her eyes slit, as challenge rose in them.
She was too stubborn not to finish making her way up.
So she grabbed the arches of the ladder and hauled herself up, pulling one leg off the ladder and placing it on the deck.
And, because fate was smiling down at me right that moment, she wobbled.
She wobbled.
I had no choice but to reach out for her, to grab her, to steady her.
One of my hands grabbed her waist.
The other snagged her wrist.
Her entire body stiffened at the touch.
And for a moment, I was sure it was just the surprise of feeling my hands on her bare skin.
But then her gaze shot up to me, her eyes knowing.
Knowing.
Like it had come back to her.
All of it.
The night of the shooting, the run through the tunnel, hiding in the trunk, and going to the dive bar where I’d managed to slip something in her drink and get my plans in motion.
She remembered it all.
But she blinked hard, banking down that knowledge.
“You can let go of me now,” she declared, and while she might have been good at hiding what was going on with her eyes, her voice betrayed her, coming out airy, breathless.
Which I doubted had anything to do with her memories coming back and everything to do with the fact that her nearly bare body was brushing my bare chest and stomach.
“I could,” I agreed as my hand flexed on her hip, sliding ever so slightly across her skin, watching as her breath caught, as something heated flashed across her eyes before she shut it down again.
“This is the part where you let me go,” she told me, voice low.