Irresistible Stranger Read Online Free Page A

her feet up on the rail, eyes closed, arms just lying at her sides, palms up…as if she’d fallen in that kind of heap and couldn’t move. She was wearing shorts and a tee in some pastel color, all wrinkled and tangled.
    His heart immediately resumed beating on noting she wasn’t wearing a bra. And that her plump, perfectly shaped breasts were rising and falling, indicating life—not to mention a delectably appealing rack.
    By the time he’d finished a complete study—legs were damned good, way, way better than he expected, a little Yankee white, but the calf shape was just that perfect arch of a curve. Anyway. By the time he finished, she had one eye open.
    â€œPlease,” she said. “Go on in. Leave me for dead. There are all kinds of people in the house. If you want someone, just pound on the door.”
    â€œI was looking for you, actually.”
    â€œNo point. I’m useless. In a state of complete decline. I can’t move, can’t talk, don’t even care anymore.”
    â€œAre we…” he tried to think of a delicate way to phrase it “…having a little trouble adjusting to the heat?”
    She closed the eye. “There’s air-conditioning. That’s what the ad said. It didn’t lie. I bought a thermometer yesterday. My room’s cooled off to eighty-seven degrees. Now go away. I can’t stand anyone watching me while I sweat.”
    â€œI brought ice cream.”
    â€œBeg your pardon?” One eye slid open, then the other.
    â€œGriff’s Secret. A pint. Two spoons. Cold.”
    â€œSay it again.”
    â€œIce cream.”
    Silence. Then… “I don’t know why you went to the trouble of tracking me down, but I absolutely don’t care. You can have whatever you want. Just show me the ice cream.”
    He lifted the pint container.
    She swung around to a sitting position faster than a jet takeoff. “Spoon,” she said.
    He produced two from his polo shirt pocket—as well as a hunk of napkins.
    â€œDo not watch me eat this,” she instructed. “I intend to inhale. And I may drool. You need to understand. Thomas Wolff had it right: ‘You can’t go home again.’ I’m hot. I’m miserable. No one likes me. If I were you, I’d hide behind the veranda rail. Protect yourself from being seen with me.”
    If she made love with half the enthusiasm that she ate ice cream, bless her heart, Griff might just have to propose. Of course, he’d have to test that theory. And at the moment, she definitely didn’t look in the mood.
    When he didn’t interrupt her ice cream inhaling to intrude with conversation, she piped up. “Did you hear the fire truck siren a couple hours ago?”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œI set that fire.”
    â€œDid you now?” He didn’t lean over to clean up the dab of Griff’s Secret on her cheek, but man, he wanted to.
    â€œI’m not sure what street it was on. Or where it was. In fact, I didn’t have any idea I’d set the fire until an old busybody four doors down came storming into Louella’s kitchen to track me down. So, if that’s why you stoppedby—to hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak—now you’ve got it direct from me. The fire was all my fault. I did it. Fire setting’s in my blood. I’m nothing but trouble. The only reason I came back to town was to cause trouble.”
    â€œThanks for sharing.” Okay. He couldn’t stop himself. That bit of ice cream on her chin was too tempting to ignore. Her eyes shot to his when she felt the touch of his finger. His eyes shot clear-cut communication right back.
    So. He didn’t have to worry anymore that she didn’t feel the same electric click that he did. Both of them knew—speaking of fire—that there were potentially explosive sparks.
    â€œI took one look at you,” he said, “and before I