But what the hell was she doing here? Half naked?
My gut lurched. What if Sophie arrived early? She couldn’t see this.
I stepped forward and cleared my throat loudly. At the interruption, the woman spun around, hair whipping droplets of water in all directions. I flinched under the onslaught.
When she saw me, her blue eyes grew wide and wild. “Holy crap!” she squealed, holding her hands to her chest to cover herself.
She was just as pretty as I remembered. I studied her face, tracing the long curve of her neck with my gaze, the sun-kissed slope of her shoulders, then?—
I sucked in a sharp breath. What the hell was I doing? She was almost naked, and I was ogling her. I turned away fast. So fast, I almost tumbled over a deck chair.
“Cover up.” My voice sounded strangled, as if someone had yanked my tie too tight.
She gasped. “Oh, my God, turn around!”
My heart hiccupped. Then—a rustle of undergrowth rang out behind me.
“I already have!”I shouted over the noise.
Not only that, but I was staring at a potted plant like it held the secrets of the universe. After a long beat, the tinkling of the water stopped.
“Okay, you can look, now.”
It was a good thing she didn’t know how much I’d already seen.
I turned slowly, my gaze fixed at eye level.
The woman stood wrapped in ivy. She clutched it to her chest like a furious forest goddess, cheeks burning crimson andbrows drawn in a stormy line. She must’ve yanked the greenery straight from the garden wall.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?” she asked.
I barely contained a growl. “What exactly would I knock on? We’re in a garden. The last time I checked, grass didn’t make much noise.”
She darted her gaze around and scowled even harder. “That’s not the point.”
“And however lovely this conversation is,” I continued. “You should probably wear something more substantial than a creeping vine.”
Her throat bobbed. “I would, but… I can’t reach my towel. Would you mind?”
She gestured across the grass, and I spotted a crumpled lump of fabric a couple of meters away.
I tutted, passing it to her.
She hesitated to take it. Instead, she ran her gaze over my face as if assessing my intentions. “You’ll have to turn around again. I’m happy to cover up, but if I take the towel, I’ll drop the leaves. Your choice.” She tipped an eyebrow, challenging me.
Heat rose in my cheeks, and I swallowed. I’d lived more life than most—had my fair share of women. But I couldn’t remember the last time one made me blush.
As requested, I turned my head. She tugged the towel from my hand and a wave of sweetness enveloped me.
Summer flowers.
The sound of her breath danced over my eardrums, and I pictured her wrapping her body, damp curls settling at her shoulders. My throat tightened.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
I turned, only her gaze wasn’t on me. Instead, she stared at the net slung over my shoulder and the three fish hanging on the hook in my hand.
She narrowed her eyes. “What’re you doing here? Did youfollow me?” She raised her chin, and my blood simmered at the arrogance of the gesture.
