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

smart man is always prepared.”

      “Then I’m so surprised you thought of it.”

      Her look was so snotty, he grinned, then actually laughed. “Damn, you’re still a world-class snob.”

      She gasped at him. “I was never a snob!”

      He held up one finger, interrupting her tirade. “But...you’re a snob with nothing more than the clothes on your back. If you want to borrow anything I have, you better start being nice.”

      “Go to hell!”

      He made an amused tsking sound. “Such language. Should I remind you, Mel, that there aren’t any stores on a deserted island? Your charge cards won’t do you much good.”

      “I don’t even have my purse with me. Not that it matters, because we’ll be rescued by dinnertime.”

      He shook his head in a pitying fashion. “You’re still so naive.”

      “I was never a snob and I was never naive. You were always too busy provoking me to know me at all.”

      The words had a grain of truth, at least in regard to their earlier relationship, before high school. But he’d be damned if he’d let her make him feel bad now. “I was provoking because you were such a snob.”

      Her face colored in silent rage. “And you’re a pessimist. Keep all your precious belongings. I won’t need them.”

      Adam considered her stance; hands on hips, her hair a dark, glossy halo around her head, her wispy, flowery skirt. The island served as the perfect backdrop for her. She looked exotic and desirable and damn sexy. “Wanna bet?”

      “What?”

      He pursed his lips. “I’ll make you a deal. You’ll get my sincere apology if we’re rescued by dinner.”

      “And if we’re not?”

      “Well, now, let’s see.” His gaze focused on her mouth, and his voice dropped slightly. “I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.”

      She gasped; her cheeks turned hot for an entirely different reason. “I don’t believe you.”

      “Oh, it’s true. I wondered about it. A lot.”

      “Well, you can just go on wondering!”

      And he would, he had no doubt of that. Even the seven years they’d been separated hadn’t been enough to obliterate the fantasies he had about her. But now here was a chance to live them, at least to some degree. “Chicken?”

      Her eyes darkened, brows drew together. “Of course not.”

      He stepped closer, whispering, “Then bet me.”

      “Jerk.”

      “And here I thought I was your hero.”

      She made a soft, growling sound, then gave an abrupt nod. “All right. But you’ll be sorry when you lose.”

      “Will you be sorry, too?”

      She turned her back on him. Smiling, Adam dug out the long-sleeved white dress shirt. Mel was stiff, nearly vibrating with anger. He should have been ashamed for taunting her, a gut reaction he thought he’d lost after high school, but instead, he was turned on. She seemed so sexy with her new outspoken manner.

      “Here, let’s get you covered up before you burn. It’s the truth, I don’t cotton to roasted woman. I’d rather kiss you tonight when you’re not in pain from the sun.” He tried his warmest, most sincere expression on her, the one that usually had women agreeing with his every word.

      But when he reached to put the shirt on her, she stepped back and swallowed hard. “Adam, I don’t think we should fight.”

      “Absolutely not.” He reached for her again, and she caught his hand.

      “In all seriousness, we could be stuck here for a few hours.” Her expression was earnest, concerned.

      “Could be.” He wouldn’t remind her again just how seriously they were stranded. Tonight, when he kissed her senseless, she’d finally accept the truth. The anticipation was almost enough to soften his disappointment over losing the deal. Almost.

      “Could we call a truce?”

      “Are you backing out of the bet?”

      She sighed. “No.”

      “Then by all means, behold a peaceable man. Now put on the shirt.” He slipped it around her, but he had to lean close to do so, and suddenly she gasped.

      “Oh, my God! Your head.”

      He eyed her cautiously. “I know it hurts like the devil but it’s still on my shoulders, isn’t it?”

      “You’re bleeding!”

      “Quit squawking, Mel. I’m fine. I just knocked my head on the slide when I went overboard.”

      “Here, sit down.” She pushed at his shoulders and Adam stared at her, not budging. Her tiny hands and puny strength were easy to ignore. But her sudden concern... He wasn’t quite sure what to think of it. Over the years he’d imagined many things from Mel, but never genuine concern.

      “Mel...”

      “Melanie,” she corrected, but this time without heat. “Now sit.”

      No woman other than his mother had ever pampered him, except in bed, so he sat and awaited a unique experience. His manly ego, however, insisted that he protest one last time. “I’m fine, Mel, really.”

      She leaned over him, and he could feel her soft breath on his shoulder, could smell the woman sweet scent of her. Her slender fingers touched, oh so gently, his scalp.

      In hushed, pained tones, she whispered, “You’ve got a terrible gash, Adam.”

      He decided a little sympathy from her wouldn’t be a bad thing. As long as he was going to let her believe he’d jumped overboard after her, he might as well go for broke. Besides, he would have come to her rescue—if he hadn’t fallen in by accident. “It’s not still bleeding, is it?”

      “A little.”

      “Well, see then? It’s almost stopped, so there’s nothing to worry about. And after all that time in the ocean, it’s been cleaned out good.”

      She didn’t sound convinced. “I took first-aid classes in college. I think we need to put some pressure on it.”

      “Mel, my head hurts enough as it is without you playing doctor.” He heard what he said, knew she’d heard it too, and grinned. “Then again...”

      “Just be quiet, Adam.” As she spoke, she came around him and opened his bag. “You must have something in here we could use as a bandage and wrap.”

      He caught her hands and pulled them away. “Quit rifling through my things!”

      “Stop being such a baby!”

      “I’m not....” He hesitated, caught by the worry in her gaze, the near desperation. She truly wanted to help him. Mel Tucker was showing him tenderness.

      That fact left him a little shaky. “Oh, hell, go ahead then. Suit yourself. I can see you’re going to be stubborn about this.”

      The first thing she pulled out of his bag was his business envelope, thickly padded and sealed. It held the contract of buying terms, a check, insurance papers. Everything he’d needed for his future. Now all wasted.

      “What’s this?”

      He stared at the blazing sun and silently cursed the ocean, the weather and drunk captains. “Pretty much useless garbage at this point.”

      His tone was mean enough to put off more questions.

      Of course, that didn’t