In McGillivray's Bed Read Free Page A

stare.”
    Hugh swallowed, but he didn’t stop staring. The ability to move his eyes was beyond him. His brain was still in neutral. Certain parts of his body, however, were on high alert.
    â€œHuh?” he managed to croak at last, his gaze still impolitely roving over her slim but decidedly curvy form.
    â€œWhat?” he said, aware that she had spoken yet unable to find the sense in her words.
    â€œWhoa,” he murmured as his brain finally engaged and he managed to both avert his gaze and shut his mouth atthe same time. Major accomplishment. While his blood was otherwise occupied, the beer seemed to have gone to his head.
    Now he tipped his head back and took a couple of deep, desperate breaths.
    â€œCan I use this?” the crazy woman asked.
    Her words made him jerk his head up, and he saw her holding up the quilt that Belle normally slept on. Belle was wagging her tail and grinning, apparently quite willing to share.
    â€œDo you have to?”
    He wasn’t thinking, of course. He was just saying what came into his head. And what came into his head was how much he was enjoying the sight of all that lovely female flesh. And he was loath to lose sight of it, even when she gave him a seriously disdainful look.
    â€œThen perhaps you could lend me your shirt.” She looked at it pointedly. “Please,” she added with more than a hint of irony.
    He could. But leaving it flapping over his baggy shorts, thus hiding the evidence of his unfortunate arousal was probably a better idea.
    â€œUse the quilt,” he said gruffly.
    She blinked, taken aback. But when he didn’t change his mind, she shrugged and wrapped it around her shoulders, then clutched it over her middle, giving the impression that she had turned into an overstuffed chair.
    Or she would have if Hugh hadn’t had a good imagination and an even better memory. He knew damned well what was under the padding. He could still see it all in his mind’s eye.
    He was definitely glad he’d kept his shirt.
    â€œSo,” he said, determined to focus on her less appealing characteristics, “tell me about this proactive jump of yours.”
    She glanced over her shoulder toward where the runninglights of the yacht were still barely visible. “Could we, um, just get moving first?”
    â€œCatch up with them, you mean?” Hugh said doubtfully. It would be a hell of a ride in the dark.
    â€œNo!” The word burst out from her, surprising him. Then she gave herself a little shake. “I mean, no, thank you,” she said with extreme politeness.
    But even spoken with politeness, the words were still surprising. Hugh cocked his head and lifted a brow. “No, you don’t want to catch up with the boat?”
    â€œNo!” Pause. Moderation. “I don’t. In fact, I would very much like to head in the other direction.”
    â€œI’m not going in the other direction.”
    â€œWhere are you going, then?” She looked suddenly apprehensive.
    He jerked his head toward the lights of Pelican Cay. “There.”
    She turned to see where he’d indicated, and her apprehension faded a bit. She nodded her head. “That’ll be fine,” she said, glancing back at the lights of the yacht, then added, “Just let’s go, okay?”
    Interesting. And odd how she could swim in shark-infested waters with complete aplomb and then freak out when she was perfectly safe. Unless she wasn’t perfectly safe.
    â€œDid you steal something?” Hugh demanded, gaze narrowing.
    â€œSteal something?” She looked shocked. “Whatever for?”
    â€œHow the hell should I know? You jumped off a bloody boat. Why the hell else would you run away?”
    â€œI’m not running away!”
    â€œOh, right. I forgot. You were just proactively jumping into shark-infested waters miles from shore.” He kept his tone conversational. It was easy enough to call her a liar