Read Swept Away for Free Online Page B

he bit off, praying it was enough to stop her but not enough for anyone on the yacht to hear.
    She flinched to a halt just before breaking through to the clearing, then caught sight of him and gasped.
    “Don’t come out of the woods. Don’t make a sound.”
    She remained motionless, but her eyes looked frightened. Not that he could blame her. He’d just brought a world of trouble down on her and had no idea what the hell would happen next.
    Time held still as his eyes met hers, as he willed her to heed his warning, and as he waited, praying the Morales brothers would decide they’d done enough damage and leave.
    They were blue, her eyes. Had he ever noticed that when they were young? Probably not— he’d been a little self-absorbed then. Hell, he was self-absorbed now. But he still noticed when a shaft of sunlight shone down through the green canopy where she stood, turning her gaze almost the color of the Caribbean, complete with a sparkle or two. He concentrated on those sparkles and wondered if she hated him and worried how he was going to explain all this to her without giving away top secret information.
    And then he took in what she wore. Not a tank top and shorts, or maybe some sort of beach cover-up—no, not his kitten. She’d topped the scant white bikini bottoms with a tiny, strappy pink top, no bra. On her dainty feet, matching flip-flops with little pink rhinestones lining the vee that met between her toes. After a long, leisurely perusal, he lifted his eyes back to hers. Damn, she was hot. Then. And now.
    “They’re gone,” she said quietly—and he realized that in the back of his mind he had indeed heard the yacht’s motor hum to life and then fade with distance. And that he’d just somehow forgotten he was in the middle of a life-or-death situation because of Kat’ s nipples jutting through her little top and those long, tan legs stretching all the way from heaven to earth.
    “Completely out of sight?” he asked before daring to move. She nodded shortly.
    Cautiously, Brock braced his hands on the ground beneath him and pushed to a sitting position to look around at the debris. A small blaze still burned in what remained of Kat’s boat, popping and crackling in the distance like an autumn bonfire. Jesus.
    But she didn’t even seem to notice, instead rushing from the cover of the trees to drop to her knees beside him. “My God, are you hurt?” He’d never seen such genuine worry on her face, her eyes glassy with emotion, the corners of her mouth turning jaggedly down.
    “No,” he said, shaking his head, sitting up a little straighter, getting his bearings back. “No, I’m fine.”
    “Good,” she said on a heavy sigh—and her relieved demeanor vanished instantly, to be replaced with something much more cutting. “Now, what the hell’s going on here?”
    He shifted his gaze to hers, finding her closer than he’d realized. Even with the scent of gas and burning wood in the air, he could smell the light fruity scent of her suntan lotion. He meant to answer brusquely, but his words came out gentler than intended. “I already explained—I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
    Her angry expression slowly softened into something more like... sadness. “And that wasn’t funny the first time you said it. Seriously, Brock. Are you...” Another long, pretty sigh, and a hint of... was that fear in her eyes? “Should I be afraid of you? Because something really serious is going on here, and I have no idea if you’re a good guy or a bad one.”
    Maybe she was scared—but she hadn’t moved away from him. So he lifted one hand to her slightly pinkened cheek, and leaned in closer, close enough to kiss her if he wanted. “I’m good, kitten, I promise you that much.”
    And he did want to kiss her. He wanted to kiss that bit of fear away. But this was no time for kissing. He’d been right about one thing—Kat Spencer equaled major distraction.
    Which was probably what led