In The Enemy's Embrace

And as much as she hated to admit it, she felt better knowing someone else was in the house. Even if he did frustrate the very devil out of her at times.

About to stuff her new black bikini in the drawer, she changed her mind, pulled the tags off and slipped the two pieces on under her sundress. Struggling a bit with the top, she managed to get it in place.

Water had always been a stress reliever for her. Be it the bathtub, shower, a swimming pool or a lake, it revived her.

Carrying her sandals in her hand, she skipped down the richly carpeted staircase and went out the back glass doors. She bypassed the resortlike swimming pool and made her way down the grassy slope of lawn toward the lake.

Clouds gathered in the sky overhead, the humidity hovering at a sticky eighty percent. The unique, familiar smell of the lake surrounded her, wrapping her in a blanket of comfort much the way the smell of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies evoked warm memories of family gatherings in the kitchen at home on the ranch.

Honestly. She wasn’t homesick after only a couple of months. She was just feeling…displaced. That was all.

The boards of the dock that extended out over the water were smooth beneath her feet. Someone had recently slapped a coat of resin over the wood, ensuring bare feet would remain splinter-free.

She glanced longingly at the expensive powerboat, the sun glancing off its white hull. The duel outboards would really make this baby scoot. Jessica loved to go fast—cars, horses, boats. It was so exhilarating, that feeling of being on the edge of danger, free.

Sitting down, she dangled her feet in the cool water, then pulled her sundress over her head, laid it aside and slipped into the water feetfirst.

She gasped as water closed around her. Warmed by the sun, the first foot or so was deceptive. After that, it was icy cold. Her body adjusted after a couple of minutes and she began to swim, reveling in the way the lake caressed her skin, holding her as she rolled over and floated on her back.

She might have dozed for a minute, but something brushed her leg beneath the water and startled her. Heart jumping, she glanced around, realized it was just a reed tangled around her ankle.

About the time she relaxed again, she looked up and saw Nick coming toward her on the dock.

Carrying a towel.

For some reason, that annoyed her. Oh, sure, she’d forgotten to bring something to dry off with, but the fact that Nick was the one to provide it touched a nerve. Besides, what was wrong with letting a body air-dry in the warm sunshine?

He still wore his suit pants and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing tanned, muscular forearms. Didn’t the guy believe in getting comfortable?

“The swimming pool too civilized for you?” he asked.

She treaded water, looking up at him. The sun was behind his head, making it difficult to see his expression. She imagined he had a fine view of her, though.

“Lake water’s much nicer to my skin. Besides, it’s what I’m used to. I swim in the lake at the Desert Rose, so this feels like home.”

He crouched down, shifting out of the direct sunlight so she didn’t have to squint. Or wonder what expression he wore.

The traditional scowl. Figured.

It bothered her even more that those rigid scowls turned her on. Sheesh.

She reached up for the edge of the dock, afraid she’d drown herself with the way this man affected her limbs and her breathing.

“Want a hand?” he asked.

“I’m good, thanks.” She saw his gaze dip to her cleavage. Heck, even if she ducked her shoulders under the water, he’d still be able to see through the clear lake water. She’d churned up the water just enough to have it lapping softly against the dock, each buoyant ripple gently lifting her breasts.

And he still looked.

Honestly. Talk about ruining all the benefits of the stress-relief swim. “On second thought, maybe I will—”

Before she could finish her sentence or advise him to step back so he wouldn’t get wet, he hooked his hands beneath her arms and lifted her out of the water as though she weighed little more than a leather saddle.

She grabbed for his arms, then flattened her palms on his chest to steady herself on her feet, leaving wet handprints on his upper arms and front of his shirt.

“Criminy. Warn a person, why don’t you.” She reached for the towel, dabbed at the water on herself, then dabbed at his shirt.

He stepped back. “I’ll dry.”

“Well, it serves you right. I could have gotten out just fine by myself and saved you a change of clothes—though why you’re still wearing your business clothes is beyond me.”

“Jessica?”

“What?” She blotted her face and chest with the towel, held it in front of her.

A dimple winked in one of his cheeks. He picked up the end of the towel, dabbed at her jaw. “You missed a spot.”

She could hardly draw a breath, much less speak. After standing frozen like a dummy for a full three seconds, she snatched the towel back from him and wrapped it around her torso, covering herself from chest to knees. “Thank you. I can get the rest.”

He stepped back and shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Of course not.” Absolutely.

“Then how come you get that little twitch beside your eye when I get close?”

“Annoyance, probably.”

His lips curved ever so slightly. “I came out to tell you I’ll be placing that conference call to the West Coast in twenty minutes.”

“Oh. Thank you for reminding me. I’ll be right in.”

“You’ve got time still.” He turned, started to walk away, then paused. “Hey, Red?”

She’d just picked up the edge of the towel to blot her hair. “Yes?”

“I like your suit. It’s, uh…sexy.”

She dropped her arm and the corner of the towel she’d lifted, her jaw going slack when he winked.

Doggone it, she was going to figure this man out, learn to keep her emotions on an even keel around him. Otherwise, the way her heart kept leaping, she’d have a heart attack at the ripe young age of twenty-five.

On the other hand…sexy was much better than the bland “nice” he’d uttered over the red dress at the mall. It was definitely better than “kiddo.” And calling her Red…now that was about as unoriginal as you could get when faced with a woman like her with bright red hair.

In all honesty, she kind of liked the nickname. It was friendly, more intimate. Much better than kiddo, that was for sure, though not as good as darling or sweetheart or…

Criminy! Get a grip!

FIVE MINUTES BEFORE the scheduled call, Jessica knocked lightly on the open door of the study and went in when Nick gestured her forward. He was speaking on the phone, and since the conversation sounded like a personal one, she wandered around the room.