His San Diego Sweetheart. Yahrah St. John

I noticed you earlier surfing.” She inclined her head toward the beach that was about a hundred yards away.

      “And did you like what you saw?”

      She raised a brow. He’d seen her watching him, so she answered honestly. “You know I did. It was quite entertaining watching you out there.”

      “And afterward?”

      An image of him in the wet suit flashed across Miranda’s mind. “The view wasn’t bad either.”

      Her stranger laughed heartily and Miranda liked the sound of it. It was deep and masculine and the very air around her seemed electrified being next to him.

      “Well, aren’t you a breath of fresh air. You actually say what’s on your mind.”

      “Miranda.” She extended her hand. “Miranda Jensen.”

      “Vic Elliott.” His grip was strong and his hands were massive, swallowing her small ones in his. “Pleasure to meet you, Miranda. And here’s your drink.” He motioned to the bar where the bartender had placed her drink along with another bourbon for him. He held up his glass and she did the same. “Cheers.”

      He tapped his glass against hers and watched her take a sip. His gaze was so compelling that Miranda had to focus on sipping her drink. It was as strong as he said it would be, but she needed liquid courage. “I like it.”

      “A lady after my own heart.”

      “And would there be any other ladies of your heart?” she inquired. Better she know now what she was up against than waste her time with a man who wasn’t available.

      He gave her a sideward glance. “There’s no one special.”

      “How about some dinner?” Miranda inquired. “Since I’m new to San Diego, you choose.”

      “Would love to.”

      * * *

      Vaughn liked Miranda Jensen. She was open and direct. He appreciated her honesty. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to put all her cards on the table. He liked that she’d approached him in the café. She seemed unconcerned about what he did for a living or how much money he made. Twice today, she’d seen him, first at the beach and now at the café. She probably thought he was a drifter she could have a one-night stand with while on a business trip to San Diego. And that was just fine with him. She was a fine-looking woman and he wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted with her. In or out of bed.

      After they finished their bourbons, Vaughn decided to take Miranda to a local seafood spot that had the best crab claws in town. Rather than drive his Ferrari and call out the fact that he was loaded, Vaughn opted for an Uber. When he was getting to know a woman and to weed out gold diggers only interested in his money, he usually gave minimal details about himself, including the name Vic Elliott. In the Navy, his men had nicknamed him Vic and it stuck, so Vaughn used it along with an abbreviated version of his last name.

      “Hope you don’t mind getting dirty?” Vaughn said as the Uber driver drove them to the restaurant. His thigh was inches from hers and he could feel himself getting further and further turned on by this woman and they hadn’t even touched yet.

      “I don’t mind,” Miranda said. “In fact, the dirtier the better. Though I do wish I’d opted to change clothes.” She glanced down at her attire.

      “Why?” Vaughn asked, glancing in her direction. “You look beautiful.”

      “But a bit overdressed for the beach, right?” She laughed.

      He smiled. “A bit—that’s what makes you so adorable.” He reached across the short distance between them and tucked a wayward strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. When she glanced up at him, her eyes were filled with desire. Vaughn wanted to sweep his mouth across hers and taste her, but the car came to a stop.

      “We’re here!” she said brightly.

      Yes, we are, Vaughn thought. If the car hadn’t come to a halt, it was a certainty he would have acted on the rampant desire he felt for Miranda.

      * * *

      He’d been about to kiss her; Miranda was absolutely sure of that fact. The way he’d looked at her with those searing dark eyes that seemed to read into her soul told her so. And she would have let him. Hadn’t her heart been hammering in her chest, just sitting beside him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder? Even though they’d only known each other barely an hour. She would have let this handsome and sexy stranger have his way with her.

      What would that have been like? Would his kiss have been soft and sweet? Or hard and hungry?

      She needed to get control of herself.

      She wasn’t here for romantic entanglements. She needed a husband—and quick. This man looked like he wasn’t desperate for money, but wouldn’t mind some extra cash in the bank. And it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad on the eyes either. Not that her marriage would be a real one. She had no intentions of consummating the marriage. They would only stay together long enough to ensure her inheritance before going their separate ways. But first, she had to ask him.

      After exiting the car, Vic led her inside the seafood restaurant with his hand lightly resting on the small of her back as he propelled her forward. It was in no way untoward, but Miranda felt it all the same. He kept it there until they were seated and he’d scooted her chair underneath her before taking his own.

      “You’re quite the gentleman.”

      He grinned. “My mama taught me how to treat a lady.”

      “Sounds like she’s a wise woman,” Miranda offered.

      “She’s an amazing woman.” The way he said it told Miranda that he was close with his mother. A man who had a good relationship with his mama was always a good sign.

      After the waiter filled their water glasses and took their drink orders, Vic immediately begin firing questions at her. “So where are you from, Miranda?”

      “Chicago.”

      “And what do you do there?”

      “I work in the hotel industry,” she responded.

      “And what brings you to the West Coast?”

      “I have a pressing business matter that I’ve put off for far too long and now it requires my attention.”

      He laughed and shrugged off her evasiveness. “That’s rather vague, but you don’t have to share. I understand the need for anonymity.”

      “And what is it that you do?” Miranda inquired. If he was going to put her on the hot seat, why shouldn’t she return the favor?

      “I used to be in the Navy, but now I surf.”

      “Why the Navy?”

      “If you couldn’t tell, I love the ocean and the sea. Quite frankly I’ve never felt at home anywhere else except on the water. It’s a part of me.”

      “I’ve a laundry list of places I’d love to go to, but I imagined you’ve traveled the world extensively while in the Navy.”

      “It did afford me certain luxuries, but we usually weren’t there long enough to truly take in the culture. Now Chicago, on the other hand, I’d steer clear of. I can’t imagine living in the Midwest and having to deal with all that cold and snow. How do you do it?”

      Miranda shrugged. “I suppose you get used to it. Have you always lived in California?”

      Vic nodded. “It’s close to the ocean, just how I like it.”

      The waiter returned with their drinks and they continued happily chatting about Vic’s travels until dinner came. Miranda was a good sport when the waiter put bibs on both her and Vic so their clothes wouldn’t get soiled. A platter of succulent crab claws with mustard sauce and Lyonnaise potatoes