Beach Bar Baby. Heidi Rice

caught him out but good.

      Thanks a bunch, May.

      He resigned himself to taking his punishment like a man, and hoped it didn’t involve a slap in the face—or a sexual harassment suit.

      ‘If I said because you looked like you could use the company,’ he began, hoping that humour might soften the blow, ‘would you buy it?’

      The instant blush bloomed again—lighting up the sprinkle of freckles on her nose. ‘Oh, yes, of course, I thought it might be something like that.’ She shielded her eyes from the sun, tipping her chin up. ‘That’s very considerate of you, Captain Delaney. But I wouldn’t want to put you out if you’re busy. I’m sure I’ll manage fine on my own.’

      It was his turn for his eyes to widen at the earnest tone and the artless expression on her pixie face.

      Damn, did she actually just buy that? Because if this was an act, it ought to be Oscar nominated.

      No one had ever accused him of being considerate before. Not even his mom—and he’d worked harder at fooling her than anyone, because she’d been so fragile.

      ‘The name’s Coop,’ he said, still not convinced that he’d got off the hook so easily, but willing to go with it. ‘Believe me. I’d be happy to do it.’ He tried to emulate her earnest expression. Although he figured it was a lost cause. He’d learnt at an early age to hide all his emotions behind a who-the-hell-cares smile, which meant he didn’t have a heck of a lot of practice with earnest.

      Her lips curved and her overbite disappeared. ‘Okay, if you’re absolutely sure it’s not a bother.’ The blue of her eyes brightened to dazzling. ‘I accept.’

      The smile struck him dumb for a moment, turning her expression from cute to super-hot but still managing to look entirely natural. Then she bounced up to pull her sundress over her head. And the punch of lust nearly knocked him sideways.

      Bountiful curves in all the right places jiggled enticingly, covered by three pitifully tiny triangles of purple spandex that left not a lot to the imagination—and had that cheesy sixties tune his mom used to sing on her good days about a teeny-weeny polka dot bikini dancing through his head.

      Damn but that rack was even hotter than her smile. Her nipples did that bullet-tipped thing again and he had to grit his teeth to stop one particular part of his anatomy from becoming the total opposite of teeny-weeny.

      But then she turned, to drop her dress into the purse she had stowed under the dash, and he spotted the patch of sun-scorched flesh that spread out between slim shoulder blades and stretched all the way down to the line of her panties.

      ‘Ouch, that’s got to hurt,’ he murmured. ‘You need a higher factor sun lotion. The rays can be brutal in Bermuda even in April.’

      She whisked around, holding the dress up to cover her magnificent rack—and the nuclear blush returned with a vengeance. ‘I have factor fifty, but unfortunately I couldn’t reach that spot.’

      He scrubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin, playing along by pretending to consider her predicament. ‘Well, now, that sounds like a job for your snorkel buddy.’

      A grateful smile lit up her face, and he almost felt bad for taking advantage of her...until he remembered this was all some saucy little act.

      ‘That would be fabulous, if you don’t mind?’ She reached back into her tote and pulled out some lotion.

      Presenting her back to him, she lifted the hair off her nape as he squeezed a generous amount of the stuff, which had the consistency of housepaint, between his palms, and contemplated how much he was going to enjoy spreading it all over her soft, supple, sun-warmed skin.

      Well, hell... If he’d known the good-guy act came with these kind of benefits, he’d have given it a shot more often.

      TWO

      Do not purr, under any circumstances.

      Ella bit back a moan as Cooper Delaney’s work-roughened hands massaged her shoulder blades. Callused fingers nudged under the knot of her bikini to spread the thick sun lotion up towards her hairline. Tingles ricocheted down her spine as his thumbs dug into the tight muscles of her neck, then edged downwards. She trapped her bottom lip under her teeth, determined to keep the husky groan lodged in her throat where it belonged.

      ‘Okay, I’m heading into the red zone.’ The husky voice brushed her nape as his magic touch disappeared and she heard the squirt of more lotion being dispensed. ‘I’ll be gentle as I can, but let me know if it’s too much.’

      I could never have too much of this.

      She nodded, knowing any further attempt at speech would probably give away how close she was to entering a fugue state.

      ‘Right, here goes.’

      Light pressure hit the middle of her back as his palms flattened against the burnt patch. She shuddered, the sting nothing compared to the riot of tingles now rippling across her skin and tightening her nipples.

      ‘You okay?’ The pressure ceased, his palms barely touching her.

      ‘Yes. Absolutely. Don’t stop.’ She shifted, pressing back into his palms. ‘It feels...’

      Glorious? Blissful? Awe-inspiring?

      ‘Fine...’ she managed, but then a low hum escaped as he began to massage more firmly. His thumbs angled into the hollows of her spine, blazing a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

      She’d been far too long without the touch of a man’s hands. That fabulous sensation of flesh on flesh, skin to skin. She stretched under the caress, like a cat desperate to be stroked, the tingles rippling down to her bottom as his thumbs nudged the edge of her bikini panties. She closed her eyes, willing the firm touch to delve beneath the elastic, while the hot heavy weight in her abdomen plunged.

      Arousal zapped across her skin, and she had to swallow the sob as the exquisite, excruciating sensations pounded into her sex after what felt like decades on sabbatical.

      Then disappeared.

      ‘All done.’

      Her eyes snapped open too fast, making her sway. His hand touched her hip, anchoring her in place—and snapping her back to reality.

      ‘Steady there.’ The amused tone had the blush firing up her neck.

      Oh, no, had he heard that strangled sob? Could he tell she’d been hurtling towards a phantom orgasm?

      Humiliation engulfed the need.

      She was so going to unpack the vibrator Ruby had bought her for the trip, and test-drive it in her room tonight. Deciding she wasn’t highly sexed enough to need artificial stimulation had obviously been way off the mark. And Ruby had once sworn by hers—before she’d found her husband, Callum.

      ‘That should keep you from getting barbecued again, at any rate.’ The rough comment intruded on her frantic debate about the merits of vibrators. And the blush went haywire.

      She stretched her lips into what she hoped looked like a grateful smile—instead of the first stages of nymphomania. ‘I really appreciate it.’

      She watched as he snapped the cap onto the lotion bottle. Only to become momentarily transfixed by the sight of those long, blunt, capable fingers glistening in the sunlight from the oily residue.

      ‘There you go.’ He held out the lotion bottle as another inappropriate jolt of arousal pulsed into her sex.

      Locating her backpack, she spent several additional seconds shoving the bottle back into it, pathetically grateful when her hands finally stopped trembling. Maybe if she drew this out long enough the blush might have retreated out of the forbidden zone too.

      ‘Thank you, that was...’ She groped for the right word—awesome being definitely the wrong word, even if it was the one sitting on the tip