Page List


Font:  

She looked up into the black eyes of Rafe Grayhawk. What was a hand doing by Chad’s pool? And why did he look so lusciously yummy in those low-slung jeans and a black mus

cle shirt?

“Thank you, but—” Dear God, he’s gorgeous.

His long ebony hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and he’d tied a blue bandana around his head like a do-rag. She hadn’t seen his upper arms and shoulders before. They were sleek, bronze, and muscular, a perfect match to those exquisite forearms. And his hands… She’d seen them up close this morning. They were large, strong, capable hands. Hands that were no doubt equally at home handling a horse and pleasuring a woman—both with ease.

The afternoon sun blazed over her skin even as tingles erupted beneath it. Hot and cold…delicious sensations.

How would those hands feel rubbing sunscreen on her back?

Only one way to find out. She cleared her throat. “On second thought, I could use some help after all. I always miss a spot on my back.”

“I can’t. I’m on the clock. I just stopped by to leave some stuff for Chad.”

“Then why did you offer?”

His lips parted. Was he going to smile?

Nope.

“I offered because I figured there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell you’d ever take me up on it. After all, I’m nothing but a hand.”

Her heart lurched. His deep voice resonated with disdain. Disdain for her. Had Amber been right? Was she nothing more than a spoiled brat who considered herself above everyone else? Then again, she was set to inherit half a ranch on the western slope. She’d been born into a well-respected family. Where did Rafe live? He didn’t live on the ranch in one of the houses hands sometimes rented. That much she knew.

Heck, what did it matter? Right now, this moment, she wanted his hands on her. It had been such a long time since a man had touched her…so very long.

“You made an offer, Mr. Grayhawk, whether you were serious or not. And I accepted.”

“I withdrew the offer.”

“I accepted before you withdrew. Now we have a contract.”

He rubbed the side of his face. “A contract? For putting on suntan lotion? Are you kiddin’?”

“Absolutely not. If you don’t perform, I can sue you for breach of contract.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know your brother’s a lawyer. Catie told me. And even a ‘hand’ like me knows oral contracts are binding. But, Angelina—”

“Angie.”

“Angie, then.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound right.”

“It’s what everyone calls me.”

“Fine. Angie. You and I both know this isn’t a good idea.” He smirked. “And it’d never hold up in court.”

“Do you really want to take that chance?” Angie pasted her best seductive smile on her face.

He smiled and a dimple appeared on his left cheek. The ice around her heart started to crack as he sauntered toward her, his hand out.

On instinct, she reached out and touched her fingertips to his.

“I was reaching for the sunscreen,” he said.

“Oh.” More warmth flooded her already flaming cheeks. How needy was she? She placed the bottle of lotion in his brown hand. “My back, please.” She lay face down on her chaise.

The chair dipped a bit when he sat on the edge. “I’ll need to move your straps if you want good coverage.”


Tags: Helen Hardt The Temptation Saga Romance