Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters 3) - Page 10


Scary, but at the same time the entire experience had been exhilarating. I might have saved her life. It wasn’t the first life I’ve saved but it felt damn good to come to her rescue, and I hadn’t rescued anyone in a long time. What if I hadn’t seen her? What if I hadn’t got to her in time?

She could have drowned.

Once the terror and adrenaline had lessened its hold on me, I realized just how soft she felt in my arms. I pressed my hand and splayed my fingers on her trembling stomach and couldn’t help but notice the way her curves nestled perfectly against me. And then she turned her head and saw my face. Looked right into my eyes and recognized me just before she fainted.

Big mistake on my part, letting her see me. Huge. She passed out within minutes of saying something, though, so she probably doesn’t remember.

At least, I hope she doesn’t remember. It’s pointless to relive those moments from yesterday and worry about her reaction, because what’s done is done. I can only hope it all works out in the end.

I try my best not to look at her but it’s impossible. I’m drawn to her, and not just because she’s my assignment. Feeling like this … letting my attraction to her distract me is risky. Stupid.

But I can’t seem to help it.

Returning my gaze to her, I watch as she lifts her arms to grip the back of the lounger, the position thrusting out her chest. I can see her nipples pressing against the thin fabric that covers them and I swear my mouth is watering. The way she’s sitting, she’s going for the bored look but she seems restless. Uneasy. I wonder what’s bothering her.

I’d love to go to her but there’s no way that I can. Not yet. Hell, it’s like I can’t even move. All I can do is stare.

She’s so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. Her nonchalant pose isn’t working. Her entire body is tense. She’s on high alert. Why? What has her so on edge? She’s on the run, so maybe it’s getting to her. The relaxing setting of this Hawaiian resort isn’t doing its job. Maybe she feels the need to run some more.

Frowning, I rub the back of my neck, peering at her over my sunglasses, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling bleeding through me. My instincts are usually spot on and over the years, I’ve honed them. Learned to trust them. This girl … she’s giving me a vibe and it’s not a good one. She looks ready to make a run for it.

And I can’t lose sight of her. Not now. It was a lucky break that my client knew Lily bought the plane ticket to Maui. How she did that, I’m still not sure, but I’m not one to ask questions when it’s none of my business.

The late afternoon sun is intense and I grab the iced tea I ordered earlier, chugging most of it before I set the glass onto the small table beside me. A shadow falls across my legs and I glance up, my entire body going still when I see who’s standing in front of my lounge chair.

Lily Fowler.

“You’re my rescuer.” The words come out a statement, not a question, and dread consumes me, makes me wish she would have never looked back, never seen me yesterday.

Did that incompetent kid tell her I was the one who rescued her? Probably not, considering Lily looked right at me before she passed out.

Shit.

When I don’t say anything, she continues.

“I wanted to thank you,” she says, her voice light and sweet, her eyes sparkling and friendly. She tilts her head to the side, a little smile curling her lips. I’m thankful her sunglasses are sitting on top of her head so I can really study her. Her eyes are clear, her cheeks are rosy from the sun, and she looks fucking gorgeous. Getting a testosterone spike is so not what I need right now. “For saving me,” she adds.

Jesus. I need to say something. Not stare at her like some sort of tongue-tied asshole. I clear my throat. “Just doing what any other man would’ve done.”

“Please. I’m not so sure about that.” She rests her hands on her hips, smiling, then wincing when her wounded palm makes contact with her skin and the tie of her bikini bottoms. My gaze drops to that tie and the matching one on her other hip. Two tugs and I could have her mostly naked.

Not the right direction for my mind to stray.

I sit up straight, swinging my legs wide so I’m straddling the lounger. Her head drops, her lips parting slightly, and I wonder if she can feel it. The attraction that vibrates between us, like a living, breathing thing. My fingers literally itch to touch her again and I clench them into tight fists.

Jesus, get your shit together!

“Well, you’re welcome. You’re lucky I saw you,” I say, hating how rough my voice sounds, how my temperature spikes at having her so close. This—attraction between us is strong.

“Of course you saw me. You’re not only my rescuer, you’re my watcher, too.” A delicate eyebrow lifts as she settles her sunglasses over her eyes, shielding herself from me. I can’t help but be impressed with the way she calls me out.

The girl isn’t timid, and I don’t know if this is a good trait or not. It’s probably half the reason she gets herself in so much trouble.

Who’d have known it would be such a damn turn-on?

“Not sure what you’re talking about.” Curling my lips, I lean back against the lounger once more, straightening out my legs and crossing my feet at the ankles like I plan on staying here a good long time. Playing dumb and enjoying her company far more than I should.

“Really. You don’t know what I’m talking about?” She sounds skeptical.

Tags: Monica Murphy The Fowler Sisters Romance
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