That Carolina Summer (North Carolina) Read Free Page B

recognize that length of muscled leg and that flowing stride anywhere. That well-trimmed male body had to be Josh Lord's.
    Her gaze skipped ahead of him to study his possible routes and instantly memorized them. Turning quickly from the window, she hurried to the dresser drawers containing her clothes. She pawed carelessly through the folded clothes until she found her turquoise blue jogging shorts and matching tank top. In record time Annette peeled off her T-shirt-styled nightgown and donned the jogging outfit, not bothering with a bra.
    When she reached for a pair of heavy socks to wear with her running shoes, Annette caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dresser's mirror. She paused to look more closely. Her face was scrubbed clean of any makeup, the result combining with her clothes to make her appear more youthful.
    “A kid, huh?” she murmured at her reflection, and studied her shoulder-length blond hair. Reaching up, Annette loosely bunched one side of her hair in a pigtail style. Wicked mischief gleamed in her eyes. “If he thought I looked like a kid yesterday, just wait until he sees me this morning.” Leaving the socks behind, she dashed into the bathroom to fix her hair, securing the sides with rubber bands. The result was positively juvenile—and she laughed out loud. Returning to the bedroom area she shared with her sister, Annette tugged on her socks and shoes.
    “What are you doing?” Marsha's sleepy voice asked. “What time is it?"
    “A little after six.” With one shoe tied, Annette shifted position to tie the laces of the other.
    Marsha frowned in her effort to focus her eyes on Annette. “You aren't going to run at this hour?” She protested against the thought of such strenuous activity so early in the morning.
    “Yep,” Annette answered brightly, and shot her sister a glittering look. “You never know who you might ‘run’ into."
    “Let me guess,” Marsha replied dryly, and sank back to her bed.
    “Wish me luck.” Annette started toward the door.
    “With him you'll need it,” Marsha called after her.
    As Annette descended the stairs to the ground floor, she silently conceded that in this instance her sister might be right. Luck would come in handy in catching Josh Lord. Without a second glance she trotted past the azalea bushes and their exotic pink blossoms. Playing a hunch, Annette headed toward the hotel's beach on the Atlantic Ocean.
    Choosing the sidewalk instead of the sand, she rounded the curve of the bathhouses. Her heart did a funny little leap when she recognized the man jogging toward her. The sleeves of a sweatshirt were tied around his neck, baring the muscled wall of his flat stomach, his tanned flesh glistening with perspiration. Annette saw the answering glint of recognition in his dark eyes when they spied her. He didn't even appear to be surprised to see her jogging.
    “It's a gorgeous morning, isn't it?” she greeted him, and deliberately shifted her course so she would pass him on the beach side of the walk. So far everything was going perfectly.
    “It is,” he agreed with a faint nod, not breaking stride.
    Annette didn't slacken her pace, either. But as she drew level with him to jog by, she deliberately stepped off the sidewalk onto the soft sand, throwing herself off balance on purpose. She faked a startled cry and tumbled to the ground, the sand cushioning her fall. Very careful not to look around, she grabbed for her ankle and inwardly held her breath.
    “Are you hurt?” His inquiry nearly had her leaping into the air, but she managed to contain the surge of triumph. There had been a skeptical note in his voice, as if he guessed the fall was for his benefit.
    She cast him a quick glance and immediately lowered her head. She didn't feel ready to hold his steady gaze. “I'm okay,” Annette insisted, and flexed her ankle with feigned care. “I just turned it."
    “Are you sure?” He waited, as if sensing something wasn't altogether right about