2

Everything was becoming a distant memory, fuzzy and out of focus, because the moment her skin met his, everything else faded to black. Fire, hot and long and needy, sped through his fingers to every extremity, zip-ping along his nerve endings like a match to gunpowder; the heavy thud of his heart blocking out the call of the birds and the sounds of the marina.

Then she tugged on his hand to stand, and he had to steady himself so he wouldn’t fall on top of her—but man, did he want to. Especially when the blanket slid down her body to pool at her feet.

“You’re naked,” slipped out. Since making that comment was better than falling on top of her, he wasn’t too upset.

“I’m what?” Five-foot-nothing dipped her blonde head forward, the curls now caressing his wrist, one encircling his forearm, and Logan had to focus on his breathing. He’d never had such an intense reaction to a woman. Then again, he’d never seen a woman like this before in his life.

Pink stained her cheeks when she glanced back at him and, dog that he was, he compared the color to the tips of her breasts. Only for a second, but it was enough—her cheeks were lighter pink.

But the curls between her legs perfectly matched those brushing her hips.

“Why are you naked?” Oh hell. What kind of a ques-tion was that? “I mean, what are you doing here?”

“Sleeping?” She moistened her lips quickly, with just a hint of pink tongue—which was more than enough to get him thinking about that tongue…

“I gathered that. The question is why?”

“Oh.” She ran her fingers through her hair, lifting it off her neck, and glanced toward the ocean. “Well, I was swimming, and… and there was a shark. Yes. A shark. And he was coming after me. So I climbed aboard your boat, and, well,” she shrugged her shoulders and a few strands of hair fell across her breasts, one curling again on her nipple, “here I am.”

Logan peeled his eyes off her breasts to meet her gaze. “Here you are.”

“Yes.”

A moment of silence followed. Well, silence between them. The gulls were making a hell of a ruckus. Logan cleared his throat, then picked up the blanket and handed it to her. “So, is there any particular reason you’re naked? Where are your clothes?”

She gathered the blanket against her chest. Not that Logan needed help with that image or anything… “My clothes. Yes. Um. Well, I was swimming—”

Right. Skinny-dipping. “Alone?”

He was asking solely so he could get her off his boat and back where she belonged; that was it. No other reason.

“Not alone. There was the shark.” “But what happened to your things?” “Oh. They’re gone.”

“Gone? Everything? Money, clothes, whatever?

Somebody take them while you were swimming?”

She looked away again toward the ocean, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Yes. Everything’s gone.”

So he had a naked, destitute woman on his boat. And a six-year-old who’d be here any minute.

Logan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Look, I can give you some money. Get you a ticket back where you came from—where are you from?”

She licked her lips again and turned those stunning eyes on him. “Have you ever been to Kansas?”

“Me? No.”

“Oh. Well, I’m from Kansas.”

“You do realize you’re a bit of a ways away from Kansas, right?”

She shifted her feet to balance on the rocking deck as another charter left the dock. “Yes. About four-hundred-and-thirty leagues or so.”

Leagues? Only if she was swimming, and that he’d like to see from the middle of the country.

“So what are you doing here if you’re from Kansas?” “Studying.”

“You’re a student?” He’d figured her for a little older than college. Maybe she was a grad student.

And he cared, why?

She looked back at the ocean. “I’m… doing a field study for the summer.”

Ah, yes. Older. “What field?” “Biology. Maritime biology.” “Don’t you mean marine biology?”

“Yes,” she said, licking her lips again. He should probably get her a drink. “Of course. That’s what I meant. Marine biology.”

The boat rocked again and the blanket slid to the side, showing off her shapely leg in all its perfection, toes to thigh.

He should probably get himself a drink. Preferably a stiff one—

Not going there.

“So… where are you staying? I’ll call you a cab.” Anything to get her off this boat.

“Actually, I just arrived. I don’t have a place to stay.” Logan was about to suggest a local apartment com¬plex when he heard Michael yell, “Thanks, Tony!” and decided he’d worry about where she was going to stay later. Right now he had a six-year-old he didn’t want to have to explain the birds and the bees—or naked women—to, so he yanked his T-shirt over his head and skimmed it over Angel’s. Yes, it hung on her like a tent,

but at least she was covered.

Not that it diminished the image burned into his brain, nor the incredibly hot vision of her in his cloth¬ing and nothing else, with her hair askew and that blush on her cheeks.

With his faded green T-shirt bringing out the green swirl in her eyes, the woman could be a mermaid come to life.

“Logan! Look what Tony gave me!” Michael ran down the dock holding up the perfectly filleted car¬cass of one of Tony’s recent catches in one hand and keeping his baseball cap on his head with the other hand. From Michael’s abrupt halt and the way his mouth dropped open, Logan knew the moment his son saw Angel.

Great. How was he going to explain this?

“Hey, Michael. Why don’t you come say hi to Angel?”

What else was he going to say? Come meet the

naked student? The kid would be signing up for col¬lege tomorrow.

“But… how? What…?” The fish skeleton hit the dock and fell apart, but Michael didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued to Angel.

“Hi… Michael? I’m Angel.” Even her voice was beautiful—like a song dancing along the crests of the waves.

Oh, hell. Where had that fanciful thought come from? Logan never spouted poetry to beautiful women, prefer-ring to keep every relationship real and out of the realm of fairy tale, though more than one woman had called him her Prince Charming. Usually right before he broke up with her.

“Ang… Angel?” Poor tongue-tied Michael. Logan could totally empathize.

“She’s… um… a friend.” One he’d just met, who didn’t wear clothes and showed up out of nowhere, but the kid was six. It should fly.

“Your friend?” Okay, perhaps the incredulity in his son’s voice indicated a need for more proof.

“Um… yeah.” He focused on Michael. “She’s new in town and was using the boat because she doesn’t have a place to stay.”

Michael’s face perked up and he jumped aboard, adjusting his baseball hat. “Cool! Then she can stay with us, right?” He went right over to her and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Angel. You can be my friend, too.”

That wasn’t exactly what Logan had in mind. “I’d like that, Michael.”

There was that melodic voice again. Maybe she was

a singer. She certainly had the face to be a celebrity, and enough of them flocked to these beaches every year.

Meanwhile, his son was literally jumping all over the place. “So, can she, Logan?”

Can she what? There were a lot of things he wanted her to do—

“Can she stay with us? She can sleep in my room.” Logan tried not to laugh. Sleep in Michael’s room?

Logan didn’t think so. If she was going to be sleeping in anyone’s room—

“Michael, I think the guesthouse would be a better idea.”

Angel smiled and Michael started bouncing again. “Cool!”

Shit. What had he just agreed to?