The Man She Couldn't Refuse. Natalie Anderson

they did, she lifted her arms, firing shots of drink from her pistols in short streams straight into the open mouths of the zombies.

      “Very Game Grrl.” He teased once her tank was emptied and the crowd had dissipated. But that concern lingered—she was more vulnerable than she’d admit.

      Petite, pretty, utterly enticing.

      She blew the end of the pistol as if it were smoking and looked up at him. “I’ve been practicing.”

      “So now you’re an expert?” he asked.

      They weren’t talking water pistols any more.

      Levi’s muscles tightened. He recognized that look in her eyes. That not so gentle rise of color in her cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassment. Any woman who could so confidently stride along a packed beach offering energy shots to every stranger, and swatting away unwanted advances, wasn’t going to be easily embarrassed.

      No, this was attraction. Lust. No longer quiet and shy, Becca Wolfe was all grown up. And she wanted him.