His San Diego Sweetheart. Yahrah St. John

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      She was just about to order another martini when the surf god from this morning came strolling into the café. He sat down at the far end of the bar away from her and talked to the bartender. Given the easy rapport they shared, they must know each other.

      She allowed herself a few minutes to adjust to seeing him fully dressed. But this time, he was no less potent than he’d been on the beach earlier. In fact, she’d say he was more so. Her devastatingly sexy stranger had closely cropped black hair, an angular face that held bushy eyebrows and facial hair that was more than a five-o’clock shadow, but not a full beard, and the dreamiest eyes she’d ever seen. He was dressed in distressed jeans that clung to a gloriously tight behind, from what Miranda recalled, and a graphic T-shirt that hugged his defined biceps. Miranda couldn’t forget how delectable his body had looked earlier and licked her lips in remembrance.

      Why was she having such a reaction to this man?

      He clearly didn’t have a nine-to-five job. Why else would he have been at the beach when most people were at work? And here he was again, which told her that he could be exactly the sort of man who could be compelled by the promise of a hefty cash payout.

      Decision made, she slid off the bar stool with as much modesty as she could in a dress, grasped her purse dangling from the stool and moved toward her mysterious stranger. What was the worst he could do? Brush her off? He’d done that earlier and she was no worse for the wear.

      “Ahem.” Miranda coughed loudly, bringing her right hand to her mouth.

      He glanced up from his conversation, but didn’t make any effort to speak. Instead his dark eyes gleamed like glassy volcanic rock as he boldly raked her from the top of her hair to her now aching feet. Pumps were definitely not made for all the walking she’d done today. “Are you done with your appraisal?” Miranda inquired. Flirting could work to her benefit if it garnered his interest. Though he would soon find out she had an agenda.

      “Nearly.” He continued to scan her critically for several more moments before he beamed his approval and looked her dead in the eye.

      “And?”

      A perplexed look crossed his features. “And what?”

      “Do you like what you see?” Miranda inquired.

      “Yes. Yes, I do very much.”

      Miranda’s insides jangled with excitement as she slid onto the bar stool beside him. The bartender came to her immediately. “Have you decided if you’d like another?”

      “Actually, I’d like something stronger.” She turned to her companion. “What would you recommend?”

      He grinned a delicious, stomach-curling smile. “Max, get her a bourbon, same as me.” He swiveled around to face her. “It’s a bit strong, but I think you’ll like it.”

      “I like strong,” Miranda countered. “Men, that is.”

      “Is that a fact?”

      She smiled coquettishly. “It is indeed. I noticed you earlier surfing.” She inclined her head toward the beach that was about a hundred yards away.

      “And did you like what you saw?”

      She raised a brow. He’d seen her watching him, so she answered honestly. “You know I did. It was quite entertaining watching you out there.”

      “And afterward?”

      An image of him in the wet suit flashed across Miranda’s mind. “The view wasn’t bad either.”

      Her stranger laughed heartily and Miranda liked the sound of it. It was deep and masculine and the very air around her seemed electrified being next to him.

      “Well, aren’t you a breath of fresh air. You actually say what’s on your mind.”

      “Miranda.” She extended her hand. “Miranda Jensen.”

      “Vic Elliott.” His grip was strong and his hands were massive, swallowing her small ones in his. “Pleasure to meet you, Miranda. And here’s your drink.” He motioned to the bar where the bartender had placed her drink along with another bourbon for him. He held up his glass and she did the same. “Cheers.”

      He tapped his glass against hers and watched her take a sip. His gaze was so compelling that Miranda had to focus on sipping her drink. It was as strong as he said it would be, but she needed liquid courage. “I like it.”

      “A lady after my own heart.”

      “And would there be any other ladies of your heart?” she inquired. Better she know now what she was up against than waste her time with a man who wasn’t available.

      He gave her a sideward glance. “There’s no one special.”

      “How about some dinner?” Miranda inquired. “Since I’m new to San Diego, you choose.”

      “Would love to.”

      * * *

      Vaughn liked Miranda Jensen. She was open and direct. He appreciated her honesty. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to put all her cards on the table. He liked that she’d approached him in the café. She seemed unconcerned about what he did for a living or how much money he made. Twice today, she’d seen him, first at the beach and now at the café. She probably thought he was a drifter she could have a one-night stand with while on a business trip to San Diego. And that was just fine with him. She was a fine-looking woman and he wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted with her. In or out of bed.

      After they finished their bourbons, Vaughn decided to take Miranda to a local seafood spot that had the best crab claws in town. Rather than drive his Ferrari and call out the fact that he was loaded, Vaughn opted for an Uber. When he was getting to know a woman and to weed out gold diggers only interested in his money, he usually gave minimal details about himself, including the name Vic Elliott. In the Navy, his men had nicknamed him Vic and it stuck, so Vaughn used it along with an abbreviated version of his last name.

      “Hope you don’t mind getting dirty?” Vaughn said as the Uber driver drove them to the restaurant. His thigh was inches from hers and he could feel himself getting further and further turned on by this woman and they hadn’t even touched yet.

      “I don’t mind,” Miranda said. “In fact, the dirtier the better. Though I do wish I’d opted to change clothes.” She glanced down at her attire.

      “Why?” Vaughn asked, glancing in her direction. “You look beautiful.”

      “But a bit overdressed for the beach, right?” She laughed.

      He smiled. “A bit—that’s what makes you so adorable.” He reached across the short distance between them and tucked a wayward strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. When she glanced up at him, her eyes were filled with desire. Vaughn wanted to sweep his mouth across hers and taste her, but the car came to a stop.

      “We’re here!” she said brightly.

      Yes, we are, Vaughn thought. If the car hadn’t come to a halt, it was a certainty he would have acted on the СКАЧАТЬ