The moonlight glinted off his hair, making the long, damp strands gleam an appealing shade of silver-black. The way the muted light sparkled off the beads of water clinging to his skin... well, that was indecent. And fascinating beyond reason.
A proper lady would have gasped, blushed, and beat a hasty retreat. Not necessarily in that order. Amanda thought it a pity all three options were, at the moment, unavailable to her. She couldn't gasp—she had no breath for it—and her feet felt as though they were encased in lead, making it impossible for her to leave. Even if she could have coaxed herself to move, there was no guarantee her knees would support her. Try though she did, she couldn't tear her gaze from his lean, half-naked body.
Jake Chandler swimming naked had been the last thing Amanda had expected to see when she'd set out to discover why he hadn't returned to camp. In a way that was typically her own, she'd thought to find him lying in the bushes somewhere, his beautiful carcass mauled by wild animals.
His beautiful carcass, she was both pleased and alarmed to see, was perfectly fit. Every inch of him looked robust and healthy. Her concern about what had happened to him had died a quick, painless death when she'd reached the trees bordering the river... heard the splashes... saw him swimming... and noticed he wasn't wearing a stitch beneath all that icy water.
That was when her knees had turned to mush. They still trembled beneath her skirt. Would the sight of him ever fade from her mind? Amanda rather doubted it. More likely, the image was engraved in her memory; she had an uneasy feeling it would stay there until the day she died.
Clearing her throat, Amanda forced her wayward thoughts to take an abrupt turn. Reminding herself that the man was still half-naked wasn't difficult at all, since her mind had never really strayed from that fact!
He was also, she realized abruptly, standing much closer to her. When had he moved? Why hadn't she noticed? Amanda didn't know, and there was no time to figure it out. Right now she was having a devil of a time trying to shift her gaze from the beads of water he hadn't mopped away. The drops glistened
like silver crystals against the firm copper of his shoulder. Her fingers curled around the pan. It took effort to resist the urge to reach out and rub those droplets into her tingling fingertips.
"I don't suggest you keep staring at me like that, princess. A man is apt to take that look in your eyes as a challenge to put on a better show. One a properly bred... lady isn't likely to forget." Jake grinned as, with the crook of his index finger, he snapped her gaping mouth shut. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think that's what you want." One inky brow slanted high. His hand turned inward, and she shivered when his palm scorched her oddly sensitive chin. "Or is it?"
"What I want, Mr. Chandler, is for you to stop touching me."
"Why? Does it bother you?"
Amanda craned her neck, trying to break the contact. She might as well not have bothered. Jake's hand tracked her. His fingertips felt hot and moist, branding her skin as he cupped the base of her neck. His thumb feathered the spot where her pulse hammered.
Clearing her throat, Amanda forced her voice to sound firm and steady; everything her insides were not. "Let's just say it... annoys me."
Jake angled his head, and a lock of hair skated over his bare shoulder. The sleek black strands absorbed the beads of water clinging to his skin. When he didn't say anything, her gaze lifted. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. His grin broadened, as though he was satisfied he finally had her full attention. With him standing there half-naked, there was never really a doubt of that!
"Annoys," he drawled, his tone deceptively lazy, "as in the way an itch that needs scratching would annoy you? Or annoys... as in rankles the hell out of you but you don't know why?"
His voice was low and husky, a velvet caress tickling her ears. His breath smoldered over her upturned cheeks. Amanda shivered and decided the man was too sexually magnetic for both their good. It took concentration to push the observation aside. Overlooking her disturbing reaction to him was not so easy, but she managed. She couldn't let her mind or body be swayed by his blatant appeal. It wouldn't safe. No, no, not safe at all!
"Which is it, Miss Lennox? What is it about me that... annoys you?"
Amanda feigned an exasperated sigh, and mentally counted to ten. It didn't help. Her annoyance remained hot inside her; it was only a degree cooler than her unexpected fascination with Jake Chandler. It was a fascination that, in her mind, had roots based in insanity. Obviously, she was losing her mind. That was the only way to explain why the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand caused her heart to skip and her blood to simmer. She was going crazy, and that was that.
"Maybe I should answer the question for you since you seem to be having trouble finding your tongue."
The words broke the spell he'd woven around her. Amanda snapped back to her senses. Hugging the pan tightly, she glared at him. Not for the first time was she relieved that their height was comparable, that she wasn't forced to look up at him. "Is this conversation leading somewhere, Mr. Chandler?"
"Could be." His shrug was casual. The way his thumb traced her pulse, still throbbing against his fingertip, was not. The feel of his calloused skin abrading her sensitive flesh sent tiny quivers bolting down Amanda's spine. "Why did you come down here, princess?"
Ah, she'd wondered when he would get around to asking about that. Did the egotistical cad think she'd come to get a glimpse of his naked body? Ha! Nothing could be further from the truth. Seeing him wet and naked had been an unexpected bonus. Of course, she wasn't about to tell him that!
This time when she pulled back, Jake let her go. His hand dropped reluctantly to his side.
Amanda took an awkward step back, and as the cool evening air rushed between them, she felt a nice, calming sliver of sanity return. At least with some distance separating them she could think almost rationally. Now, if she could convince Jake to put a shirt on, she'd be all set! The sight of his chest—with its complex cords of muscle and touchably smooth copper skin—was a distraction she could have lived without.
"I wanted a bath," she said suddenly. The half-truth sounded pitifully lame.
The way his brows arched said Jake agreed. His gaze dipped to the pan, and a ghost of a grin tugged at his lips. "In that? Think you'll fit?"
"Fit?"
"Yeah, 'fit'. I mean, let's face it." His gaze lifted, lingering on the swell of her breasts. His steely eyes smoldered. "You aren't exactly what I'd call scrawny."
Amanda bristled. "Are you insulting me?"
"Hell, no. That was a compliment. I don't like my women scrawny."