The sun's dying rays turned her skin to honey, the deep warm colour looked gloriously inviting, lusciously smooth, while the water beading upon it shimmered like diamonds. She sparkled more clearly than if she had been clothed in a cloak of jewels.

The water reached her rounded hips then her lushly smooth thighs as she moved towards the warm sand. Her breasts were large almost too large for a frame so small, a chest so slender. Unbound, they shimmied and rolled with every step taken, the nipples a dark luscious pink. At first glance, she had appeared naked, her mound covered with dark inviting curls. But she wasn't naked. She wore a shift. The thin, wet fabric proved as transparent as a spider's web and offered no protection against a man's hungry gaze.

Greg Hunter pushed away from the cove's dark rocks. She didn't see him until he moved, for his clothes had blended into the boulder's shadows. She knew a moment of surprise as she watched him come to stand directly in her path. She hesitated for as long as it took to look into his eyes. She couldn't have said how, but she knew there was nothing to fear from this man.

A gentle smile curved his lips and caused a pulse to throb in her throat. She felt his gaze travel the length of her, felt it as if he actually touched her. His smile deepened into a grin, and dark eyes grew to pitch. She watched as the tip of his tongue slipped from between well-formed lips to bathe his lips as if he imagined the taste of some forbidden fruit, and she moaned softly.

The cove was private. She'd been coming here for years and had never before been interrupted. He had no right to be here. This was her place. She might be leaving tomorrow, but for now, it was hers. Only hers.

His dark trousers were too tight. She hated that he wore them so tight then frowned, startled at her own thoughts. She didn't know this man. How odd that it should matter what he wore. It didn't of course. She couldn't have cared less what the man wore. His white shirt was open nearly to his waist, exposing a wide line of a sun-browned chest and a dusting of black hair. It took a long moment before she could tear her gaze from the intriguing sight. She shook her head in wonder. She hadn't ever seen a man's chest before. She was an innocent, yet despite that innocence, she was fully aware of his wants. It only took his look to know.

She wasn't sure what to do. She'd never suffered a look so bold, but oddly enough, she felt not a moment's trepidation. Her pulse throbbed harder, almost closing off her ability to breathe. Should she answer his smile, move towards him, look into his eyes and allow them both their wants? She thought not and was disappointed at her lack of courage. She moved towards her neatly folded clothes and her linen bath sheet then stopped in surprise. No longer folded, the sheet lay flat upon the sand as if awaiting their use.

Her gaze returned to him. He'd touched her sheet, prepared it for them. She frowned, not because she was angered at his daring, but because she wasn't. She should be upset, annoyed at this invasion of her privacy, shouldn't she? Instead, she knew only a pounding in her brain and the need to gasp for every breath. END EXCERPT