“You wouldn’t.”
“No?” Beginning to enjoy himself, he pretended to consider it. “Maybe not. But the question remains. You getting out of the lake or do you know how to sleep while treading water?”
She huffed out a disgusted breath and slapped one hand against the water. “I’m getting out.”
“Can’t wait.”
“You’re a real jerk, you know that?”
“That’s been said before.”
“Color me surprised.”
“You’re still in the water.” He unfolded his arms and stuck both hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Must be getting pretty cold about now.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Told you I’m not going anywhere.”
She gave another quick glance around at the dark country surrounding them, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the cavalry riding to her rescue.
“How do I know you won’t attack me the minute I get out of the lake?” she asked, eyes narrowed on him.
“I could give you my word,” Sam said, “but since you don’t know me, that wouldn’t be worth much.”
She studied him for a long minute and he had the weird sensation that she was looking far more deeply than he would like. But after another long minute she said, “If you give me your word, I’ll believe you.”
Frowning, he pulled one hand from his pocket and scrubbed the back of his neck. A beautiful, naked trespasser trusted him. Great. “Fine. You have it.”
She nodded, but another long minute or two ticked past before she started in toward shore. Something inside him quickened. Anticipation? Excitement? It had been long enough since he’d felt either, he couldn’t be sure. But the moment came and went so fast, he couldn’t explore it or even take a second to enjoy it.
Moonlight dazzled on her wet golden skin as she walked out of the water and up the short incline to where her clothes were stacked in a neat little pile. He watched her and felt a hot, pulsing need rush through him with enough force to stagger him.
She was tall and lean, with small, firm breasts, narrow hips and a tan line that told him she didn’t usually skinny-dip. He could only be grateful that she’d chosen to tonight. Somehow those tan lines made her nudity that much more exciting. Paler strips of skin against the honey-brown tempted a man to define the edges of those lines.
Desire stirred and heat pooled inside him.
She was magical in the moonlight, and it took everything he had to keep from grabbing her up and pulling her close. It was like watching a mermaid step out of the sea just long enough to tempt a man.
“You are amazing.”
She faltered slightly, then lifted her chin and stood tall and proud, no embarrassment, no hesitation. And Sam knew he should feel guilty for staring at her, taking advantage of the situation.
But damned if he could.
In seconds, she’d yanked on a T-shirt and stepped into a soft-looking cotton skirt that swirled around her knees as she bent to pull on first one sandal and then the other.
Hell, he should be thanking her. She’d taken his mind off the past, made facing this lake and the memories again much easier than he’d expected.
“Look,” he said as she straightened up, “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, but seeing you here surprised me and—”
She slugged him in the stomach.
Didn’t hurt much, but since he was unprepared, all his air left him in a rush.
“I surprised you?” Maggie Collins grabbed her long brown hair, held the mass off to one side and quickly wrung the excess water from it before flipping it all over her shoulder again.
Amazing. He’d called her amazing.
She could still feel the flush of something warm and delicious as he watched her. It was as if she’d felt his touch, not just his gaze, locked on her. And for just one brief moment she’d wanted him to touch her. To feel his hands sliding over her wet skin.
Which only made her madder. She looked him up and down dismissively, then lifted her chin. “You rotten, self-serving, miserable…” Oh, she hated when she ran out of invectives before she was finished.
Inhaling sharply, she threw her shoulders back and gathered up her tattered pride. She’d about had a heart attack when she’d first seen him, standing on shore, watching her in the darkness. But the initial jolt of fear had subsided quickly enough the longer she’d looked at him.
Maggie’d been on her own long enough to develop a sort of radar that told her when she was safe and when she was in danger. And none of her internal warning bells had gone off, despite the fact that he hadn’t been gentleman enough to either leave or turn around.
He wasn’t dangerous.
At least not physically.
Emotionally—now that might be a different story. He was tall and gorgeous—already worrisome—and then there was the gleam in his dark eyes. Not just the flash of desire she’d seen and noted—but an undercurrent of something sad and empty. Maggie’d always been attracted to wounded guys. The ones with sad eyes and lonely hearts.
But after getting her own heart bruised a few times, she’d decided that sometimes there was a reason men were alone. Now all she had to do was remember that.
She stood her ground, glaring at the man who’d intruded on her nightly swim. Just a few years ago she might have skittered away quickly, trying to disappear. But not now. In the last two years things had changed for her. She’d found a home. She belonged on the Lonergan ranch, and no one—let alone a surly, good-looking stranger—would scare her off.
“You’ve got a good right jab,” he conceded.
“You’ll live.” She started past him, headed for the line of trees and the path beyond that would lead her back to the ranch house.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. Instantly her skin sizzled and her blood bubbled in her veins. She yanked free of his grasp and took a step back just for good measure.
“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice soothing as he lifted both hands in mock surrender. “It’s okay. Relax.”
The quick jolt of adrenaline she’d felt at his unexpected touch was already dissipating when she glared at him. “Just… don’t grab me.”
“No problem.” he said, “Won’t happen again.”
She blew out a breath and willed herself to calm down. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d surprised her by taking hold of her arm—it was the sudden flash of heat that had dazzled up her arm only to ricochet throughout her body. She’d never felt that punch of awareness before and wasn’t sure she liked it much. Better to just get away from the man. Fast.
“It’s going to take me about ten minutes to walk back to the house,” she said when she was certain her voice wouldn’t quiver. “I suggest you use that time to get gone.”
He shook his head. “Can’t do it.”
“You’d better. Because the minute I get to a phone, I’ll be calling the police to report a trespasser.”
“You could,” he said and fell into step beside her as she once again started for the tree line. “But it wouldn’t do any good.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because,” he said, coming to a stop, “I went to high school with half the police force in town. And I think Jeremiah Lonergan might just object