Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“That’s not an answer.”
Of course it wasn’t. “Sounded like one to me.”
“How’s this? It’s not an acceptable answer.” She swam toward the steps at the end of the pool. Once there, she climbed out dripping wet, like a siren calling his name.
Luring him to his damn death.
He caught her shiver, even as slight as it was.
Goosebumps covered her body, including the two huge ones that were her rock-hard nipples.
Just like he thought, the water had to be frigid as fuck.
He grabbed a thick towel from a nearby lounge chair she must have dragged out of the shed and tossed it to her.
She caught it, mumbled, “Thanks,” and began to dry herself off.
He was tempted to stand there and watch her like the fucking perv he was, but that might be worse than letting himself into the house she was renting.
To keep from doing that, he squatted at the edge of the pool and dragged his hand through the water to check the temperature. “Holy fuck. How can you stand swimming in that?” He stood and dried his hand off on his jeans.
“It’s refreshing.”
“It’s cold enough to give you hypothermia.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m old enough to decide that for myself. And, by the way, would you say that to a Navy SEAL in training?”
“Are you a SEAL?”
“No.”
“Then how does that apply to you?”
She sighed. “Why are you here?”
With the towel now wrapped around her and knotted so it remained in place, it ended his view of her body in a wet one-piece bathing suit that hugged her curves and left nothing to the imagination. At least the little bit of curves she had. Which wasn’t much.
She wasn’t curvy and soft, but lean with an athletic build. He wasn’t sure if her physique was from a regular swimming regimen or it came naturally.
He shouldn’t care.
But for some reason he did.
Of course, he wasn’t too picky when it came to women’s bodies. He liked them all.
Even so, he preferred them to be baked a little longer. Twenty-eight was still too young whether curvy, lean or otherwise.
Not that he was looking for long-term. He wasn’t.
Not that he was looking to hook up with the woman standing before him in a ray of sunlight—most likely to warm up. He shouldn’t.
Camila Cabrera should be off limits.
For more than just her age. An age that was closer to his daughter’s than his own.
But because they worked together.
And then there was her father.
He liked his career and he’d like to keep it. Especially since it paid the bills, including his alimony and child support.
And of course, it provided a roof over his head and utilities to make his life comfortable. Being unemployed would certainly be uncomfortable.
So, why the fuck was he drawn to her despite all the red flags? Why did he keep doing stupid shit like showing up at her house or being a dick to her for no good reason?
He was forty-three, not thirteen. He needed to stop acting like it.
Or he needed to find some other woman not named Camila Cabrera and get laid. Push the thoughts of the woman he really wanted out of his brain, then slam it shut once that was achieved.
He cleared his throat. “Do you want to go change?”
“Do you want to explain why you’re here? You said it was about work. So far, you haven’t talked about the task force at all.” She tipped her head to the side. “Or was that just an excuse to barge into my house and you really have no valid reason to be here?”
Damn. “Why would I show up here without a valid reason?”
“You tell me. Maybe it has nothing to do with work at all.”
“Then what would it be?”
Her eyebrows rose and she took two steps closer, tipping her face up to him. She was close enough for him to see how her wet eyelashes clumped together.
She was close enough to see how a bead of water precariously balanced in the hollow of her throat, tempting him to put his lips there and drink it from her skin.
She was close enough to see her pulse pounding along her throat.
She was close enough to see something flash behind her eyes.
Surprise?
Or was she figuring out what he didn’t want her to know?
The fact that he wanted her.
If it was anyone other than her, he already would’ve made his move.
But it was her.
It was Camila Cabrera.
And she was off limits.
Back off, you stupid fuck. Screwing her would screw you.
She took another step closer. With the way the sun was hitting her, he could see the gold flecks in her dark brown eyes. “Well?”
He swallowed. Say something, dumbass. “You’re going to get what you wanted,” he murmured.
“And what do I want?”
Why did her voice turn husky like that?
Did she want him, too? Did she have fantasies while lying in bed at night about him, just like he did about her?