UP In Flames: Body Heat / Caught in the Act. Lori Foster

fiancé. “Adam—”

      His teeth nipped her earlobe and made her gasp. “Sh,” he whispered, barely breathing the word so that all the fine hairs on her body stood at titillated attention. Her body felt ripe, hungry.

      “Tell me that you want me, too, Mel.”

      Oh, she did. She really did. “We...we need to talk, Adam.”

      He leaned back to give her a warm smile, his gaze searching, pleased. “But you’re not denying you want me.”

      She started to, only the words wouldn’t come out, not with him looking at her that way. His hands stayed busy, slowly pushing the white shirt open and brushing over the exposed skin of her shoulders, arms and throat as if he couldn’t quite touch her enough. Everywhere his fingers trailed, she felt gooseflesh rise, making her more sensitive. He appeared almost reverent, his gaze so hot she felt the touch of it against her skin.

      She’d secretly dreamed of being with him like this, and she wanted so badly to give in. But she knew she’d caused him a lot of grief, and first she had to remedy that. She leaned away from the temptation he offered. “I want to buy the resort, Adam. I owe it to you.”

      Very slowly, he released her. His expression was cold, blank. “There was a bidder right behind me.”

      “So I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

      He jerked to his feet, then stared at her. “I don’t want your charity, Mel.”

      “Charity?”

      “I don’t live on the riverbank anymore. I can damn well take care of myself, without your interference.”

      His attitude stunned her. “You’re being unreasonable, Adam. I can afford to do this—”

      “And I can’t. Just like old times, huh?”

      They stared at each other in heavy silence. He was so distant, so sarcastic, it was as if the delicious kiss had never happened. Melanie bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. His feelings were plain, but then, so were hers. She knew what she needed to do, she just didn’t know how Adam would react. “You’re a bullheaded jerk, Adam Stone.”

      He turned away to observe the shoreline. After several more seconds, he said, “It’s going to be dark soon. We should finish checking out the house to see if there’s anything in there we can use.”

      The setting sun cast everything in shadow, lending an eerie quality to the island. Adam disappeared behind the house, and she didn’t bother to follow him. How had everything changed so suddenly?

      “I’ve found us some food.”

      She stared at him, carefully hiding her hurt. He held out two withered oranges.

      “Behind the house.” He watched her as he spoke, and she had the feeling he was trying to gauge her mood. “The orange tree isn’t much to brag on, but next to that is a palm tree loaded with coconuts. We won’t starve.”

      Fighting with him wouldn’t solve anything, so she tried for a look of enthusiasm. “I can live with fruit.”

      He looked relieved, and even smiled at her. “They were probably planted by whoever used to live here. According to the guidebook, citrus trees are usually only on the mainland. There’s even a wild strawberry patch here, though it looks like the bugs have gotten to most of them. And some thorny blackberries.”

      He dropped the fruit in the sand by her feet, then went around to lever himself into the front door again. Watching Adam climb wearing no more than form-fitting Skivvies was a unique experience. Muscles and tendons flexed and pulled tight across his back and shoulders. His thighs were long, athletic. She crept closer to the house to peek inside.

      It had obviously been no more than a functional fishing cabin. There were no separate rooms, just a few dividing walls. At the back of the house were an old porcelain tub and toilet, a broken mirror still on the wall. Various broken tools, dishes and garbage littered the inside.

      “It’s not exactly cozy.”

      Adam snorted. “If it rains again, and it will, at least we’ll be able to keep dry. And I think I might be able to drag that tub outside to collect the rainwater.”

      The tub was dirty, chipped and rusted. “Pray, for what?”

      “To drink and bathe, sweetheart. Unfortunately, there’s no catering service here, no ice machine right around the corner, no hot showers. Or haven’t you accepted yet that we’re stuck here?”

      She really wanted to smack him. “We’ll be rescued soon.”

      “Dream on.” He began heaving at the tub. A large slithery snake glided from beneath and slipped across the dusty floor to disappear into a crack between the wall and the baseboard. It moved so quickly, neither of them had time to react. Adam turned to her, one brow raised, and she quickly ducked out of sight.

      Sometimes, she thought, life was hardly fair. She’d come on this stupid trip to get away from meddling friends and family, stress and pressure. She’d wanted peace and quiet, but instead she’d gotten stranded on a damn bug-and-snake infested island with the one man who’d always made her crazy. Now it seemed that so many things she’d thought about Adam were wrong, but it didn’t matter, because he still despised her inherited wealth.

      “Come here and give me a hand.”

      Melanie turned, saw Adam struggling to lower the tub to the ground through the open doorway and applauded. “Bravo, Stone. Anything else I can do for you?”

      He mumbled something she didn’t hear and let the tub drop with a thud. After jumping off the doorstep, he dragged the tub straight past her and right into the ocean.

      “Adam! What are you doing?” She envisioned him climbing inside the tub and somehow sailing away—without her.

      But the tub immediately sank, and he only went out knee deep, just enough to swish the salty sea water inside it.

      “I’m washing it. Something’s been nesting inside it.”

      Shuddering in distaste, Melanie stood fretfully just outside the touch of the foaming tide and watched, praying no sharks would eat Adam, because she really didn’t think she could stand being stranded alone.

      But when he waded out and she saw that his snug boxer briefs were once again soaked and clinging to his very male body parts, she began to wonder if being stranded alone might be safer than being with Adam Stone.

      * * *

      The sun was nearly down, the air cooler, and Adam felt ready to burn up. On every imaginable level, he was painfully aware of Melanie. He could smell her warm, female scent, could hear her occasional movement, feel the touch of her gaze on his body. In a burst of frustration, he growled, “Stop ogling me.”

      Affronted, Melanie exclaimed, “I’m not!”

      “Ha.” He wanted an argument, a way to vent. When he’d kissed her, he’d nearly lost his mind, she tasted so good. He’d wanted nothing more than to lay her down in the sand and make love to her. Then she’d offered him money, and he’d gone cold inside. She couldn’t know what it was like to take charity, to be dependent on others to get by. But he knew. And that was one more major difference between them.

      She had spunk, he’d give her that. Most women would be carping and crying and complaining right about now. Their prospects for the coming night did not look good. But not Mel. No, she didn’t complain, she just went on insisting everything was dandy in that damn annoying Pollyanna way she had of looking at everything. Even with bedraggled clothes and ruined makeup, she managed to appear regal and in control. She sat before him, her legs crossed just so, her shoulders straight.

      She was staring at him again.

      “Damn it, Mel.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, at the end of his control. “Do you want me to pick up where we left off?”

      She