Reese: The Untamed. Susan Connell

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СКАЧАТЬ not to massage the satiny depression. Because if he did, the situation threatened to become a lot worse. Or better. Clearing his throat he gently removed his hands and slipped into the crowd.

      His exit was less than seamless, but more important, it was what she’d wanted—an end to their embarrassing situation. From the corner of his eye he saw her reaching for her necklace as her lips parted in alarm. He hesitated. Had she wanted him to stay or go? Her fingers were wrapping around her pearl choker as she strained to keep him in view. The next moment pearls were slipping through her splayed fingers and spilling down her breasts, bouncing off the table edge and arcing left and right. Half a dozen men made a mad, inelegant scramble with her to retrieve the pearls. He was several yards away when he turned for a better look. Already on her hands and knees, she didn’t see him looking. Didn’t see him smiling. And didn’t see him stoop to pick up a pearl and slip it into his pocket.

      

      Beth Langdon paced back and forth on the private beach below the Cap Ferrat villa. Hugging the cellular phone to her ear, she responded to Eugene Sprague’s greeting with a rush of emotion. “This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

      “Beth, you give me this same spiel every time you call. Why don’t you fast-forward to the good stuff. What have you been doing?”

      “Skulking around Monaco in a scarf and dark glasses.”

      “The trick is to get Marchand to notice you. You’ve been there almost a week now. Aren’t you any closer to making contact with him?”

      Contact? Stopping dead in her sandy tracks, she glanced down at her bikini-clad body as she recalled her contact with Reese Marchand. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been embraced…like that. As awkward as the moment was, she remembered thinking how solid he’d felt, how alive she’d felt and how perfect they’d felt together. Then his fingers had settled on the small of her back and she’d lurched forward. The instant she made the move, she’d become achingly aware of his masculinity. Every inch of it.

      From her breasts to her knees, every cell sizzled with the memory of her body moving against his. Animals in heat displayed more finesse! Swallowing hard, she forced her attention to the speed boat racing by on the open water.

      “Hello, Beth? Are you there? Did you hear me? I said the trick is—”

      “He noticed me…when I made a complete and utter fool of myself last night.” Turning away from the sparkling water, she quickly continued. “And don’t ask how. All you need to know is that the next time he sees me he’s going to turn around and run the other way.”

      “I doubt it.”

      Why couldn’t she get it through Eugene Sprague’s thick skull that she wasn’t suited for this job? Out of sheer frustration, she grabbed a handful of her filmy cover-up and rubbed at the intricate gold needlework decorating the edge. “You can doubt all you want, but that doesn’t alter the fact that this overblown project of yours is a complete waste of money.”

      “Money’s not a problem. Besides, I thought I’d told you that the funding came from a private source. No one’s going to miss it at headquarters.”

      “Please!” Letting go of the material, she curved her hand over her sun hat and hunched her shoulders closer to the phone. “I told you, I don’t want to know where the money came from. I wish you’d never bring that up again.”

      While Eugene attempted to reassure her that her trip would never be connected to Tyler Pierson’s reelection campaign, she looked out to sea again. One sleek, white boat had broken away from the flotilla and was cruising outside the villa’s private cove. She smiled longingly at the lazy figure-eight pattern the boat was making. That’s where she’d like to be. Out on the water with the wind blowing in her hair and a bronzed hunk blowing in her ear. Away from this tawdry mess, with no place to go and all day to get there. She frowned and looked away. That delicious scenario wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. She’d given her word to see this project through. If there was a chance that her participation could make the difference in getting the president reelected, she had no choice but to continue. With a sigh of resignation she interrupted the president’s campaign manager.

      “Are you holding back any information from me?”

      “No. Why are you asking that?”

      “Because your file on Reese Marchand says he spent four years in the United States, but I heard him speak last night. He doesn’t have a trace of a French accent. He sounds like an anchorman on the six o’clock news back home. Are there any more surprises you’ve forgotten to tell me about?” Glancing out at the boat and the man steering it, she absently smoothed her thumb along the hip string of her bikini. “He doesn’t have a wife stashed around here, does he?”

      “What do you care? We’re not asking you to marry him.”

      “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did,” she said, brushing aside her cover-up to plant a hand on her hip.

      Eugene laughed. “In this case the end would justify the means, Beth, because when you consider the alternative…” His voice drifted off for a second. “Can you imagine where we’d all be if Harrison Montgomery made it to the White House? We’re waging war here. Be a good soldier and tell me what you have planned for today.”

      The speedboat made a sudden hard turn and was heading straight for her shore. Who in the world…?

      “Just a second, Eugene.”

      She walked ankle-deep into the water. Squinting hard, she yanked off her sunglasses as she silently mouthed, “Omigod, it’s him.” There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she was right. She’d been trailing Reese Marchand for several days and could pick him out at fifty yards. “He’s…I mean, someone’s coming. I have to go.”

      “I’m not done with you. Have the maid send whoever it is away.”

      “I can’t do that,” she said, hurrying back to her chair. “I gave her the day off.”

      “She’s supposed to be there twenty-four hours a day.”

      Beth raised her voice. “The woman has a life, Eugene.” Over his protests, she continued. “I’m hanging up now.” Clicking off the phone, she dropped it into the canvas bag attached to her beach chair.

      Her face and hands began tingling with alarm when Reese Marchand cut his motor and dropped anchor. When he dived over the side, she stepped behind the canvas sling chair. What was he doing here? Glancing behind her, she calculated the time it would take to make a run for the hill stairs. She dragged a nervous hand across her bare midriff. She’d never make it, and worse, she would end up looking like a frightened child running away from the school yard. Again. Lord, why had that old nightmare chosen to reassert itself at this moment? She pushed the memory out of her mind as Reese Marchand broke the surface and continued swimming toward her. With his every stroke her pulse tripled. And surprisingly, her daring did, too. Moving out from behind the chair, she walked a few steps away from it and waited.

      When he stood up in thigh-deep water and casually shoved his fingers through his hair, she swallowed in awe. Water dripped down his broad-shouldered and beautifully muscled body, rearranging his dark mat of chest hair into a series of arrows. A part of her wanted to linger over his well-toned chest and abdomen, but those arrows kept pointing lower to his aubergine swim trunks. The wet material hung low on his hips, exposing his navel…but not his tan line. She СКАЧАТЬ