Wild Child. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ waited for the program to open, she stared out at the ocean.

      A figure appeared on the horizon—the dark outline of a surfer against an expanse of blue sky and foaming white water. As she watched, he moved closer. She could tell it was a man now, broad-shoul-dered, wearing Hawaiian print board shorts.

      She leaned forward, holding her breath as he rode the crest of a perfect curl. Knees slightly bent, arms held a little apart from his body, he was precisely balanced on the board, a picture of grace and strength.

      Her heart twisted with longing as she watched the man. Oh, to be able to tame the ocean that way. To have such command over the waves and your own body. When she was a girl, she’d spent a lot of time on the beach, mooning after various surfing gods. She’d never gotten farther than being “allowed” to hold surfboards while her crushes headed off with some other bikini-clad babe.

      Of course she’d also been skipping school, experimenting with drugs and hanging out with the wrong crowd. She was one short step away from juvenile delinquency when her mother’s brother, Spence, had reined her in.

      But she hadn’t been all bad in those days. She smiled, remembering. Sure, she’d been a little reckless. A little wild. But she’d also been fun and spontaneous. Words that didn’t play a big part in her life these days.

      Wasn’t that part of the reason she’d come on this vacation—to get in touch with that inner wild child again? To rediscover the fun of being a little reckless?

      She stood and leaned over the railing to watch the surfer more closely. He was tall and muscular, bronzed from hours in the sun. Exactly the kind of guy she’d panted after years ago.

      Okay, so she could admit to herself that he was the kind of guy who still made her feel a little out of breath. Just because she’d been too busy working these past few years to have time for a relationship with the opposite sex didn’t mean she was dead.

      That was the whole point of this vacation, wasn’t it? She was here to prove to Ellie and Candy—and most importantly, to herself—that she still had what it took to have fun and really live.

      She checked the surfer again. Great abs. Great legs. Great tan. Her lips curved in a smile. Exactly the kind of man she could go for.

      So why not go for him? The idea sent a thrill of anticipation through her and she stood up straighter. What better way to wake up her dormant libido and rev up her inner party girl than a fling with a hot surfer?

      The surfer rode the wave until it died in the shallows, then came ashore, pulling the board behind him by its leash. She couldn’t tear her gaze away as he emerged from the water like some mythical sea god. Or maybe the star in one of her more vivid sexual fantasies…

      “Hello!”

      With a start, she realized he’d spotted her. He moved closer, waving.

      She smiled and waved back, her heart galloping in her chest.

      “Come on down! The waves are great!” he called.

      She hesitated. Here was the opening she’d been looking for. “I’ll be right there!” she called. She started toward the stairs leading down from the deck to the beach, hesitated, then did an about-face and grabbed the cell phone. Candy would give her a hard time if she saw, but what could Sara say? She wasn’t ready to go cold turkey yet. Besides, it wasn’t as if she expected another call or anything. She just felt kind of…naked…without it.

      DREW LEANED his board against the deck pilings and waited for the young woman to join him. She was wearing a bright-orange bikini that showed off her very sexy curves. He was glad she’d agreed to join him. When he’d spotted her she’d been watching him with a wistful look on her face. As if she really didn’t want to be on that deck by herself.

      Since he’d started off the day feeling lonely himself, he figured maybe the two of them could help each other out. And it didn’t hurt that she looked hot in that bikini. “Hi, I’m Drew Jamison.” He stood at the top of the steps and held out his hand. “Welcome to Malibu.”

      “Hello. I’m Sara.” She hesitated, then stepped forward and took his hand. She had a firm, businesslike grip, but her hand was cold. He cupped it in his and rubbed back and forth. “You ought to get out into the sun and warm up.”

      She pulled away and turned to look out over the ocean, her cheeks a becoming pink. Obviously, she wasn’t used to strangers rubbing her hand. Way to go, Drew, he thought. Scare her off, first thing.

      He struck a casual pose next to his board, pretending to look out at the waves while watching her out of the corner of his eye. He kept a good three feet of space between them. He didn’t want her to think he was the type to come on too strong.

      “How long have you been surfing?”

      Her voice was soft, with a slight Southern drawl that sent heat through him that had nothing to do with the Malibu sun. “I’ve been doing it since I was a kid,” he said. “Almost twenty-five years.”

      “You’re very good.” She glanced at him, a shy smile transforming her face.

      There went another heat wave. If she was flirting with him she was keeping it low key, but his body was responding as if she’d turned on the charm one hundred percent. Guess he was lonelier than he’d thought. He grinned. “Thanks. I run the surf shop down the way, the Surf Shack. My grandpa owns the place, so I’ve been hanging out there for years. I give lessons too, if you’re interested in learning how to surf while you’re here.”

      Her smile brightened. “I’d like that. Though we only have the cottage for a week.”

      His grin evaporated. “We?” Just his luck, she had a burly boyfriend or husband lurking somewhere.

      “I’m here with two girlfriends. We came down from L.A. for a few days’ break.”

      Ah. Two friends. That sounded better. “Where are you from originally?” he asked. “That doesn’t sound like an L.A. accent.”

      She laughed. “No, that always gives me away.” She faced him. “I’m originally from Georgia. I moved here with my mom when I was in high school, after my dad died. Her brother—my Uncle Spence—was living in L.A. and he sort of helped her raise me. What about you? Are you a native?”

      “Yep. Lived here all my life.”

      “No wonder you’re such a good surfer.”

      He shrugged. “I don’t do it as much as I’d like. Running a business takes a lot of time. That and family obligations.”

      “Don’t I know it.” She motioned to the phone in her other hand. “I can’t even get away from the business when I’m on vacation. And my Uncle Spence, bless his heart, expects me to do everything.”

      “Then it sounds to me like you really need a vacation.” He moved closer. “And I’d really love some company this afternoon.”

      The thought of going back into the water, or back to work, by himself held no appeal now that he’d met Sara. If she was only going to be here a week, he didn’t want to waste any time getting to know her better.

      She looked out at the waves again. СКАЧАТЬ