She slapped her Cosmo closed and raised the brim of her straw hat. She looked way up into a pair of black Oakley’s covering eyes she knew were a beautiful blue. He was even bigger and better-looking in the sunlight. He wore a pair of gray Quicksilver board shorts and a white tank with large armholes around his massive shoulders.
“What are you reading?”
“Makeup tips.” She tried to act cool as she shoved the Cosmo into her bag. Like she wasn’t reading about penises and like outrageously goodlooking men talked to her every day. “Have you been fol owing me?”
He chuckled and sat on the chaise next to her. “Keeping my eyes open for you.”
“Why?”
He dug in his back pocket, then handed her the pink bead bracelet she’d worn the night before. “You lost this.”
This was Vegas. Nothing was real in Vegas. Certainly not good-looking men tracking her down to return a cheap bracelet. She opened her palm, and he dropped it in her hand, the beads stil warm from his body. “Thank you.”
“I was fairly drunk last night.” His brows lowered, and he looked around. “So is there anything I need to apologize for?”
“No.”
“Damn. I was kinda hoping we got into trouble.” He returned his gaze to hers. “Why are you hiding way back here in the corner?”
“I’m not hiding. I’m just avoiding the sun.”
“Hungover?”
She shook her head. “I burn.”
He gave her that slow easy smile she’d seen the night before. The one she’d thought her tequila buzz had made up. “I could put sunscreen on your back.”
She lowered her hand from the brim of her hat and tilted her head to look at him. There was only one sensible option. Run away again before she got herself into trouble.
He held up his hands as if he were completely harmless. She wasn’t fooled. “I won’t touch you anyplace you don’t want to be touched.”
But she didn’t want to run. She was on vacation. Nothing counted on vacation. And certainly nothing counted in Vegas. Wasn’t that their motto? What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas? “Sorry. I already put some on.”
“That makes one of us.” He looked up at the broiling sun and cringed. “I can practical y hear my skin sizzle.”
She pointed up at the palm trees. “In the shade?”
“I’m sensitive.”
“Uh-huh.” She reached into her beach bag and pul ed out a tube of sunscreen. “It’s SPF 40 and—” He whipped off his shirt, and she about fel out of her chair. Holy crap! He
had big pecs and shoulders and a six-pack of kil er abs. She’d never seen anything like him. Not in person, anyway. Not close enough to lick. Would probably never see anything like him again. Where had he come from? What did he do for a living? Lift smal buildings? “What’s your name?”
“Sam.”
He looked like a Sam. “Autumn,” she said, and swung her legs over the side of her chaise. “Autumn Haven.”
He chuckled. “And that’s your real name? You’re not just shitting me?”
“Not shitting you.” She’d always hated her name. “I know. It sounds like a retirement home. Like Meadow Lakes or Summer Vil age.” She kept her eyes on his face in a desperate bid not to rudely stare at his chest and drool. Although real y, staring at his face was no hardship. “Here you go.” She shoved the sunscreen toward him.
Instead of taking it, he lay back in his chair. “Your name doesn’t sound like a retirement home. More like one of those paradise destinations.”
A thin golden happy trail ran down the middle of his six-pack, circled his navel, and disappearing beneath the waist of his shorts, pointing the way to his paradise destination. God help her. She wanted to say something clever. Something smart and sexy, but she couldn’t think of anything. Not when the blood was draining from her head.
“The al -inclusive kind,” he added. “The kind that promises endless pleasure and an al -you-can-eat buffet.”
Autumn had a choice. Run like hel . Again. Run and save herself from endless pleasure and the al -she-could-eat buffet laid out in front of her like a smorgasbord of sin.