Read Sun Kissed (Crane Series) for Free Online

control over her heart, which pounded as though she were some kind of game animal staring into a loaded rifle.
    “As I was saying . . .” What the hell had she been saying? Oh, yes. “There are some holes in your resumé.”
    “What holes?” he said, his gaze still fixed on her with clearly carnal intent. He could probably sell those damn surfboards on sex appeal alone. “Your eyes are the most amazing color. Like the water up in Queensland when you get near the reef. It’s not green, or blue, but something that’s both.” He touched her fingers with his. “Your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you.”
    She felt the sun, warm against her face, heard the sounds of people at other tables, muted traffic sounds from somewhere, the bustle of the harbor. She felt the curious buzz of sensation as his fingers toyed with hers, then reality slapped her.
    “There are places in the world where your behavior could be construed as sexual harassment,” she informed him, pulling her fingers away.
    “This is Australia, mate.”
    “And what would you call what you’re doing—in Australian?”
    His eyes both laughed at her and undressed her. “Your lucky day.”
    “I suppose you subjugate women, too,” she muttered half to herself.
    The look he sent her was potent sexuality. “Ah, now that depends on the woman.”
    With such arrogance, what could she do? She rolled her gaze and gave an annoyed tsk. “Holes,” she said, “in your resumé, such as your education. I can’t find any mention of your schooling in any of the biographical material about you.”
    “Do you think a bloody surfie cares whether I did the HSC?”
    “HSC?”
    “Higher School Certificate.” When he saw her raised brows he said, “Whether I finished school.”
    She blinked, unable to hide her shock. “Didn’t you finish high school?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    He shrugged his shoulders, then stared into his beer as though thinking. “I was bored. I had to, I don’t know, see the world. Make my own mark.”
    He was still doing that, she realized, merely extending the reach of his marker. She wondered when he’d feel he’d made enough of himself, or if he ever would. She walked him through his business from when he’d moved to Sydney to work in a surfboard shop at the world famous Bondi Beach, become a surfer and instructor and then, with the overconfidence she’d already discovered was a big part of his nature, decided he could design a better board.
    “That’s right. I won enough surfing competitions to get some money together, plus saved my pittance from working in a surfing shop, got a good mate to help me build my board—he’s now the chief engineer at Crane; Nigel. You met him.” She nodded, amazed that he’d come so far so fast. “Then we strapped the board on my old bomb of a car and drove it ’round to all the shops and the shows. I also surfed on it and won more competitions with the new board. People started to take notice.” He shrugged as if to say and the rest is history.
    She nodded again, knowing the rest of his story probably as well as he did himself. From that early success, he’d branched out. Bought a lot of real estate, a sizable interest in two television stations and a newspaper. He even owned a small commercial airline. Now, he was so diversified she doubted anyone knew his exact wealth, including himself. But the surfboard company was where he kept his office, and obviously the business he most loved.
    “You’re also the spokesman for Crane products here in Australia. Do you intend to do the same in the States?”
    He shook his head. “I was thinking you’d find a Hollywood star or one of those California surfie chicks in a string bikini to sell the things.”
    She rolled her eyes. “I see you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
    “I hired you to get it right.”
    “Then you’ll agree to be guided by my advice as regards the California market?”
    He sipped his beer, which sparkled gold