UP In Flames: Body Heat / Caught in the Act

Mustering her courage, she jumped off the raft—and sank as deep as mid-shins. The water was so shallow, Adam couldn’t have pulled her any farther along.

Disregarding her blatant cowardice even as she carefully surveyed the shallow water, she attempted to act blasé, to hide her fear. She grabbed the raft and pulled it behind her as she waded out of the water.

Her strappy little sandals were long gone, and her toes sank into the white sand. Her skirts, made to wrap twice around her waist, were sadly tangled, sticking wetly to her thighs, hindering her every movement. She stopped to shake them loose, to squeeze out some of the water, but it was useless. They clung to her like a second skin. She plopped down on the fine sand beside Adam. He didn’t move.

His eyes were closed against the now gentle rain, his clothes every bit as ruined as hers, his mouth tight. And still he looked incredibly gorgeous.

All the old feelings of inadequacy swamped her. For as long as she could remember, Adam had been vital, outgoing, easily the center of attention whenever he entered a room. And she’d been a fading wallflower, crippled by her vulnerability and shyness. When she’d seen him on the boat, she’d begun reviving plans to show him how she’d changed, to prove she wasn’t the little girl he probably remembered with pity. She’d thought to wait until they’d docked, change into something more sophisticated and then approach him.

Instead, he’d approached her, taking her totally off guard, and she’d behaved like an idiot. “Adam?”

“Hmm?” He looked a little pale, his mouth pinched.

“Are you all right?”

“Just dandy. I always take an hour-long swim to get the old blood pumping.”

Her eyes narrowed. Just like him to be so sarcastic at a moment like this.

But then she realized he had to be worn out. To her shame, she hadn’t helped him a bit. She looked at him again and considered apologizing, but couldn’t decide how. He was still her high-school nemesis, yet now he was her hero, as well. The circumstances had her grinding her teeth.

She looked around, up and down the shoreline, and saw nothing but bent and twisted trees, sand, a few pelicans. The island wasn’t large by any stretch, and she wondered how it would fare if the storm returned. “Adam...”

He groaned and reached up to rub at his head. “Talk softly, okay? I’ve got a ringing headache.”

She lowered her voice appropriately. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue.”

She looked around again. It was a safe bet they weren’t on Marco Island, so it had to be one of the smaller islands. She started to stand, her intent to locate people, houses, anything that looked even remotely domestic or civilized. But Adam caught at her arm.

“No, don’t wander off. I don’t want to take the chance we’ll get separated. Just give me a few minutes and we’ll start exploring together.” He said it all with his eyes closed, and her concern for him doubled despite her resentment of the situation.

Sinking into the sand, she looked him over. He lay on the shore like a starfish, arms and legs spread, his posture one of complete exhaustion. His tie remained tight around his throat, his bag still attached to his belt. Melanie figured the least she could do was try to make him comfortable, to prove he no longer cowed her. And he had jumped in after her, had kept her safe. If it hadn’t been for him, the sharks—she gulped—probably would have had her for lunch. Though she hadn’t actually seen any sharks, she was still certain they were there. And if nothing else, his presence had given her immeasurable comfort.

She reached for the strap on his bag, but before she could get a good grip on it, his fingers bit into her wrist.

His eyes opened and they pinned her, hot and intense. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Uh-oh. Melanie remembered those eyes from high school, so compelling, so sexy. Adam Stone had always had the ability to turn females into mush. Though he’d been poor and oftentimes dangerous, women had gravitated to him in hordes. But she’d resisted. She’d had little choice. His only interest in her had been spite.

“I was going to move your bag and undo your tie.”

“Why?” The visible signs of exhaustion momentarily left his body, and he looked ready to attack.

She made a sound of disgust. “You look miserable, that’s why.”

“Like you care?” He snorted. “Aren’t you the same woman who just a while ago was ready to bite off my face?”

She blushed, annoyed that he’d point that out. Damn him, how did he constantly do this to her? They’d only been reunited a very short time, and already she was on the defensive! Since she’d first met him, it had been that way. Right before she’d left for college, he tried to pretend an interest in her, but she’d been wise to him by then. She knew he was only setting her up so he could humiliate her. She’d refused him as quietly and with as little confrontation as possible.

But she’d come home from college a changed woman. Away from her parents’ smothering influence, she’d grown into her own, able to stand up to anyone when the situation warranted. She’d anxiously looked forward to her next meeting with Adam Stone, anxiously practiced all the things she’d say to him, how she’d put him in his place.

How she’d make him see her as more than a pawn.

Only he was gone by then, moved away after his father’s death. And she’d forever felt cheated of her big moment.

She’d never forgotten him; she doubted she ever would. Other than her parents, he’d had more influence in her life than any other person.

Damn him, she would not let him do this to her again! She was a mature businesswoman, and she’d behave as such, no matter his provocation.

With her hands fisted in her ruined skirts, she forced a calm tone and said, “I was trying to be cordial, Adam, considering you played the gallant and rescued me.”

He scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You dove in after me,” she reminded him. “You didn’t have to do that, all things considered. The least I can do now is try to be nice.”

He stared, his expression stunned. “Nice?” Then he laughed and dropped his head onto the sand with a groan. He was silent a moment before muttering, “Well, what do you know. You owe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t you? It’s appropriate, don’t you think? My clothes are ruined, and it’s for certain I’ve missed my damned meeting.” He cocked an eye open to look at her. “All because I jumped in to save you.”

“Don’t curse.”

Coming up on one elbow, he growled, “I’ll damn well curse if I want to! You have no idea what missing that meeting means.”

She leaned back, away from the force of his anger. Subdued just a bit, she said, “So tell me.”

He glared at her, then turned his head away. After a second, he plopped back on the sand. “Forget it.”

She shrugged, but since he wasn’t watching her, he didn’t see it. Guilt gnawed at her. “I suppose I do owe you. A little.”

“A lot.”

She sighed. “Very well. I owe you a lot. How much money will you be out because of our...misfortune?”

His gaze turned lethal, and the words were little more than a whisper. “You’re not going to offer me money, are you, sweetheart?”

“But you said I owed you.”

“You owe me gratitude, that’s all. I don’t want your damn money.”

“Oh.” The money would have been so much easier.

He shifted, putting one arm behind his head, watching her, a half smile on his sensuous mouth. “Okay, Mel, since we’re agreed, have at it.”

“Excuse me?”