“I do want to know. What is it? Tell me. Tell me now.”
Ellie wanted to roll her eyes at Darcy’s persistence, but didn’t. If she rolled her eyes she might miss something, and she intended to keep her gaze focused on Uriel.
“Ellie Mable Weston, tell me!”
Seeing that Darcy wasn’t about to let up, she said, “It’s Uriel.”
There was a pause. And then, “Uriel Lassiter?”
“Yes.”
“He’s there at the lake house? Oh, El, that’s wonderful.”
“What’s so wonderful about it?” Ellie asked, as she continued to stare at Uriel. The only wonderful thing she could think of at the moment was seeing such a nice looking hunk of dark chocolate. The man was built, superbly so. She wasn’t close enough to see his front, but his profile and back were simply magnificent.
Ellie couldn’t believe that he was walking around stark naked, regardless of the fact he assumed no one was living at her aunt’s place.
“I think it’s wonderful that he’s ten years older and so are you. Chances are, he’s forgotten all about that stunt we pulled that summer.”
“Don’t count on it. Some men have long memories.”
“Well, what did he say to you when he saw you? Did he act like he is still angry?” Darcy asked.
“He doesn’t know I’m here yet. I’m upstairs in my aunt’s bedroom and watching him through the window.”
“Oh. What is he doing? What is he wearing?” Darcy asked excitedly. As usual, she wanted every single detail. “Has he changed much over the years? Is he still good-looking?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?”
“Darcy, please keep up. You asked what Uriel was doing and what he was wearing, and the answer to both questions is nothing.”
There was a pause. “Nothing? Are you saying the man is naked?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m saying. I think he’s about to go skinny-dipping in the lake.”
“What parts of him can you see?” Darcy was not ashamed to ask.
“Mostly the back—and before you ask, the answer is yes. He is as fine as fine can be. Extremely well built. It’s quite obvious that he works out regularly.” Ellie nervously bit her lip when Uriel eased into the water. It was only then that she rested her eyes. “I shouldn’t be spying on him like this. It’s not right.”
“Hell, yes it is,” Darcy almost screamed in her ear. “If I was there I would be pulling out a pair of binoculars and getting an eyeful. Men are known to girl-watch, so what’s wrong with us boy-watching?”
Ellie smiled at the logic in that. “Nothing. But then I shouldn’t be discussing it with you.”
“Why not? We tell each other everything. Don’t try holding out on me now.”
Ellie couldn’t help but laugh at that. She glanced back at Uriel. He was just getting out of the water, and when he pulled himself up onto the pier, he was facing her and she nearly caught her breath. The man was an Adonis. Perfect in every way.
As if in a trance, she rose from her seat to lean closer to the window, literally pressing her face against the glass to see more clearly, to check out every inch of him. Her gaze took in his wet, muscular thighs, strong-looking legs, tight abs—and she blinked at what she saw at the apex of his legs. His thick shaft seemed to glisten proudly in the sunlight as it lay nested in a thick, curly bed of hair.
At that particular moment he had to be the most beautifully built man she’d ever seen out of clothes. And her eyes took their fill. She stood there entranced. Mesmerized. Captivated. Every bone in his body seemed possessed of strong density: muscular, solid.
She mentally dismissed the familiar landscape that encompassed him and the body of water surrounding him. The only thing occupying her mind was his body in all its glorious and masculine splendor. Without a stitch of clothing, he appeared rough, unmanageable.
Untamed.
She felt a tug in the pit of her stomach and wondered how it would be to tame such a male. She doubted such a thing could be done. At least not by her.
“Ellie? Are you still there? What’s going on? Why aren’t you saying anything? What do you see?”
Ellie swallowed tightly. There was no way she could tell Darcy what she was staring at. Barely breathing through constricted lungs, she merely said, “I’ll call you back later.” Refusing to listen to any argument from her best friend, she clicked off the phone.
As if the clicking sound had the ability to travel through the frame of the house, through the trees and toward the lake, Uriel glanced up toward her house, and before she could move out of the way, his gaze found hers as she stood staring at him through the window like a deer caught in headlights. He returned her stare.
She felt the flush of embarrassment flicker from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Uriel Lassiter had caught her watching him in his very impressive birthday suit.
Chapter 3
Uriel’s lips formed in a tight line when he recognized the woman who was standing at the window spying on him.
Ellie Weston.
Oddly, he felt not even an ounce of shame at having been caught naked. How was he to have known she was over at Ms. Mable’s house?
He grabbed his towel, deciding he had given her enough of a peep show. Since she was still standing there, he wondered if she had a fetish for naked men. Too bad the show was over.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he broke eye contact with her and began walking back toward his house like he had all the time in the world, fighting the temptation to glance back at her. She was the last person he wanted to see, and in the past he would have asked his parents about her comings and goings at the lake to make sure their paths never crossed. But he hadn’t done so this time. Big mistake.
Uriel kept walking, and when he made it to the back door and went inside, he leaned against the kitchen counter and pulled in a deep breath. At a distance, from what he could see through the window, Ellie Weston had grown from a pretty-looking sixteen-year-old to an attractive twenty-six-year-old woman.
He frowned, thinking, so what? It had been expected. Her mother was a nice-looking lady, so Ellie had probably inherited some pretty good genes.
Moving away from the counter he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He popped the top and took a huge swig, not caring that he was standing, dripping-wet, in the middle of his kitchen. His mind was filled with too many thoughts of the woman he hadn’t seen in ten years.
Woman.
It was safe to think of her as a woman now, and not a kid any longer; although, at sixteen, she hadn’t really looked like your average kid, not at the rate her body had been developing. Even now he could recall how she had looked that day she and her friend had pulled one over on him.
He wondered how long had she been standing by the window watching him? How much of him had she seen? He would be the last person to admit to being an exhibitionist, and would never have considered a skinny-dip if he’d known someone was next door—especially if that someone was her.
When he finished off the beer, he sat the empty bottle on the counter, wondering if he was being unreasonable for still holding a grudge after all this time. She had been sixteen, and teenagers had a tendency to act silly and do stupid things. Hell, at that age he could remember all the trouble he and his five god-brothers used to get into. They would spend at least a week together every