Mac, she reminded herself, didn’t want a relationship anymore than she did. He’d taught himself to be his own champion and she admired the hell out of him. But he didn’t need her. Anyone who could fight his way out of the enveloping negativity of Mac’s childhood didn’t need anyone. He’d learned to survive and then to flourish. He was emotionally self-sufficient, and a woman would never be more than an accessory and a convenience to him.
What did it matter, anyway? Rory gripped the plastic bottle so hard that it buckled in her hand, the water overflowing to trickle onto her wrist. Men always disappointed and love never lasted and the fairy tales the world fed women about happily-ever-afters were a load of hooey. No, she’d stay emotionally detached, and by doing that, she’d never feel hurt or as out of control as she had when she was a child.
Rory straightened her spine. Mac was a nice guy, a sexy guy, but he wasn’t her guy. It would be sensible for her to remember that because if she didn’t and she did something imbecilic, like fall in love with him, she was just asking for big, messy trouble.
Maybe she should stop sleeping with him...
But look at him, Rory thought, watching as Mac walked up the path from the beach. How was she supposed to resist? He was shirtless and wearing a ball cap and board shorts, his chest glistening with perspiration.
Rory leaned on the railing, and as if he sensed her watching him, he turned and looked up at her, pulling his sunglasses from his face. “Hey. You okay?”
“Fine,” Rory replied. “Was the village damaged?”
“Not too bad. Trees, some missing tiles...it could’ve been worse. Is the power back on?”
Rory shook her head. “No. And it’s so damn hot. I’m desperate for a shower.”
Mac gestured to the sea behind him. “Big bathtub on our doorstep. Come on down, we’ll have a swim.”
Rory pulled her sticky shirt off her body. “Good idea. Do you want some water?”
Mac nodded. “And a couple of energy bars. I’m starving.”
“Five minutes,” Rory replied. Instead of heading inside she just stared down at him, unable to get her feet to move.
It would be so easy to love him, she thought. She was already halfway there.
Yeah, but she couldn’t trust him. And what was love without trust? An empty shell that would shatter at the first knock.
Don’t be stupid, Rory, she thought as she turned away. Just don’t.
* * *
By sundown there was still no power. They gathered up a beach blanket, a lamp and a makeshift supper and headed for the beach. In the golden rays of the sunset, they cleared sticks and leaves from a patch of sand, spread out the blanket and looked at the docile sea and the sky free of all but a few small clouds.
“If it wasn’t for the mess you’d think nothing had happened,” Mac said, echoing her thoughts. It was scary how often he did that. Scary and a little nice.
“Fickle nature,” Rory agreed, pulling her tank top over her head and dropping the shirt to the sand. She shimmied out of her shorts and stood in her plain black bikini, desperate to feel the water against her skin. She turned to Mac and found him looking at her with a strange expression on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah...just thinking how gorgeous you look.”
Rory flushed and lifted her hand in dismissal. “I’m already sleeping with you, McCaskill, there’s no need to go overboard.”
Rory turned away and walked toward the sea, foolishly hurt by his compliment. She wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the pictures of him in the papers, normally accompanied by a skinny, long-legged giraffe who could grace any catwalk anywhere in the world. Shay had been his first supermodel-gorgeous girlfriend, and every girlfriend since had been slinky and sexy. Tall, dammit.
Mac’s hand on her shoulder spun her around. She swallowed when she saw the irritation in his eyes. “Don’t do that!”
She widened her eyes to look innocent. “Do what?”
“Dismiss me. I never say things I don’t mean and if I say you look gorgeous then I mean to say that you look freakin’ amazing and I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”
Warmth blossomed in her stomach at his backhanded compliment. Freaking amazing? Did he really think so?
“I see doubt on your face again.” Mac cradled her cheek in his hand. “Why?”
Oh, jeez, he would think she was stupidly insecure and horribly lacking in confidence. Which she was, but she didn’t want him to know that. “Uh—”
“Why, Rory?”
Rory kicked her bare foot into the sand. “Um, maybe because all the girls you normally...uh, date...are about a hundred feet tall and stacked and I’m a munchkin with a flat chest and a complex.”
Mac stared at her before releasing a long, rolling laugh. Rory narrowed her eyes at him while he tried to control himself, wiping at the tears in his eyes.
“Glad I amuse you,” she said, her tone frosty.
“Oh, you really do.” Mac took her hand and pulled her to the sea. Thoroughly irritated with him she yanked her hand from his and dived into an oncoming wave. She started to swim, only to be jerked back by a hand on her ankle. She rolled onto her back and scowled as she tried to pull her ankle from Mac’s grip.
“Let me go.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to kick him.
“Pipe down...shrimp.”
Oh, that was fighting talk. She swiped her arm down and sprayed a stream of water into his face. Mac dropped her ankle and she launched herself at him, throwing a punch at his uninjured arm. “You jerk!”
Mac easily captured both her wrists in one hand and held them behind her back. Then he inched up two fingers to pull the strings that held her bikini top closed. He let her wrists go so he could pull the triangles over her head and toss the top onto the sand behind them before stepping back to look down at her breasts.
Moving them back into the shallows until they were standing in ankle deep water Mac placed his hands on her hips, keeping an arm’s length between them. His gaze traveled from the tips of her head to where her feet disappeared into the water. Rory bit her lip and looked at the beach behind him, but Mac’s fingers on her chin brought her eyes back to his face.
“I refuse to let you spend one more second thinking you are second-rate.” Mac’s voice was low and imbued with honesty. His fingers drifted down her neck, across her collarbone and down the swell of her breast. His thumb rubbed across her nipple and it puckered under his touch. “Yeah, you’re small but perfect. So responsive, so sweet.”
He bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, causing her to whimper and arch her back. He licked and nibbled and then moved on to the other breast before sinking to his knees, his hands on her hips. He looked up at her, the gold and oranges of the sunset in his hair and on his face. “You are small but perfect.”
He repeated the words, his thumbs tunneling under the sides of her bikini bottoms. “I lose myself in your eyes, drown in your laugh and feel at peace in your arms.” His thumb skimmed over her sex and she whimpered when he touched her sweet spot. “I find myself when I’m deep inside you.”
“Mac.” She whimpered, needing him to...to...do something. More. Touch her, taste her. Complete her.
Rory thought she heard Mac say something like, “You are the fulfillment of every fantasy I’ve ever had,” but all her attention was focused on his fingers, now deep inside her. He could’ve been proposing and she wouldn’t have cared as her bikini bottoms dropped to the sand and his hot, hot mouth enveloped her.
He licked and she screamed. He repeated the motion and her knees