Eternally Yours. Brenda Jackson

like a jerk tonight and I apologize. There was nothing wrong with the way you were dressed. You looked sensational. I guess I'm so used to eyeing women myself that I know what goes through other men's minds when I see them doing it. And I don't want them thinking about you that way. I guess I've taken it upon myself to be your protector while we're here.”

      “Yeah, so I've noticed. But Clayton, you don't have to protect me. I'm twenty-eight and old enough to take care of myself. Have you forgotten that I live alone in New York?”

      Clayton smiled down at her. “Deep down I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't keep me from wanting to do it for you.”

      Syneda grinned. “I guess with three younger sisters you're used to it.”

      “Maybe so,” Clayton replied, although deep down he had a feeling the root of his problem was jealousy, plain and simple.

      Syneda stepped back out of his arms. “I'm really enjoying myself, but I don't think you are. Maybe I should leave tomorrow and return to New York. You're so busy looking out for me that you're not relaxing at all.”

      Clayton brushed a stray curl from her face. “No. I'm fine, and I don't want you to leave. I enjoy your company. Like today, for instance. I had a great time building that sandcastle with you on the beach. And tomorrow is our day to spend shopping at the malls, remember.”

      Syneda smiled. “How could I possibly forget something as important as that?”

      Encircling her with a protective arm, Clayton drew her closer to him. For a long moment there was no conversation between them. They just held each other. Clayton was going through pure torture. Everything about Syneda was sexy, and he felt a quickening in the lower part of his body. If he didn't separate himself from her, he couldn't be held accountable for his actions. “Syneda?”

      “Umm?”

      “I think we should call it a night, don't you?”

      Syneda stepped out of his arms and peered up at him through a sweep of long lashes. A smile covered her lips. “Friends again?”

      Clayton returned her smile as a surge of warmth passed through him. “Yes, friends again.”

      “Good. As much as we argue at times, I like having you for my friend.”

      “And I feel likewise.”

      Syneda leaned up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Clayton.”

      “Good night, Syneda.”

      He watched as she turned to leave. He couldn't help but notice how the sleeper she wore clung to her body, accentuating her shapely hips and tiny waist. He had a feeling he was in for a long, sleepless night.

      Chapter 3

      “Don't tell me we've finally done something that's tired you out,” Clayton said, grinning. He handed Syneda a cold can of soda. “I was beginning to think you were blessed with never-ending energy.”

      Syneda took the soda and flopped down in the nearest chair. “Shopping always tires me out,” she replied after taking a sip of the drink. She set the can on a nearby table and began removing her sandals. “The stores at that mall were wonderful. Just look at all this stuff.”

      “I'm looking,” Clayton replied, glancing around at the bags and boxes littering the floor. “Have you forgotten that I helped you carry most of it?”

      Syneda smiled. “I really appreciate you being with me. I couldn't have purchased nearly as much stuff had you not been there.”

      Clayton glanced around the room shaking his head. “Yeah, your Master Card company should thank me profusely. I wonder if they'll be willing to give me some kind of a kickback since you spent a fortune today.”

      Syneda laughed. “I doubt it.” She stood to collect her boxes. “Do you mind if we order out tonight? I don't think I have the energy to get dressed to go anyplace.”

      “That's no problem. What do you have a taste for?”

      “How about lobster?”

      “That sounds good to me. I'll order delivery from a restuarant nearby.”

      “Thanks, Clayton, you're such a sweetheart.”

      Less than an hour later, a just-showered Syneda stood leaning against the railing on the terrace enjoying the view of the ocean. Clayton had left her a note saying he was going downstairs to the pool for a swim.

      From her position on the terrace she could see him below, and for some reason her eyes kept straying toward him. She became entranced by the movement of his muscular legs as he dived into the pool, by the firmness of his stomach beneath his swim trunks and by the mass of dark hair covering his chest. He looked tough, lean and sinewy. His powerful well-muscled toast-brown body moved through the water with easy grace.

      “For heaven's sake, what am I staring at?” she exclaimed in dazed exasperation. “You would think I've never seen a good-looking male body before.” And what really bothered her was the fact the body she was ogling belonged to Clayton.

      She forced her gaze to move from the pool area back to the view of the ocean. But as if they had a will of their own, her eyes strayed back to Clayton time and time again, and each time she felt a flutter deep in the pit of her stomach. He might be downstairs swimming in the pool, but she was upstairs swimming through a haze of feelings and desires that were almost drowning her.

      Knowing the only way she would be able to stay above water and stop looking at him was to move from her present spot, she walked over to stretch out on the lounger to take a nap.

      Syneda had nearly dozed off to sleep when she heard Clayton return. She opened her eyes to find him standing next to the lounger. She couldn't help but let her gaze settle on the line of body hair that tapered from his navel into the waistband of his swim trunks.

      “Did I wake you?” he asked, stretching down in the lounger opposite hers.

      She pulled herself into a sitting position. “Not really. How was your swim?”

      “Super. It relaxed me tremendously,” he replied.

      And it unsettled me, Syneda thought.

      “What's on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asked.

      Biting her lower lip, she looked away. “I thought I would give you a break and make it a do-your-own-thing day. That way you can be free of me for a while.” And I can be free of you to sort through all these strange feelings I'm beginning to have, she thought.

      “I like having you around.”

      “Oh,” she replied. Her eyes were again drawn to the thick mat of hair on his chest. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. Her eyes met his. “Well, then, let's not make any plans. We'll let it be a whatever-happens sort of day.”

      “All right.”

      They spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the terrace enjoying the ocean view and trying not to let it be obvious that they were also enjoying the view of each other.

      Later that evening after enjoying a superb lobster dinner, they sat around on the floor drinking the remainder of the wine.

      “You have butter on your nose.”

      Syneda twitched her nose. “I do?”

      Clayton laughed. “Yes, you do.”

      When Clayton reached over to wipe it off, their gazes locked and held for several seconds. A mite too long to be at ease.

      “Thanks, Clayton,” Syneda said awkwardly, taking another sip of wine. Her mind was clouded with uneasiness. For crying out loud, Syneda Tremain Walters, pull yourself together. You're acting like a bimbo. The man is Clayton, for Pete's sake. You know, Lorren's brother-in-law, the one who changes women as often as he changes socks, the one who has a case of condoms in his closet, and the one who is definitely not your type.