Page 47 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars
“I’ve heard that underwater archaeologists do it deeper, and under pressure.”
My eyes widen, and my lips curve up. “Linc! I don’t know what you’re implying. They’re not an item.”
“Yet.”
I stare at him. “Are you suggesting they’re interested in one another?”
He laughs. “Yeah,” he says, as if it’s really obvious.
“I don’t think so. They’re just good friends. You’ve heard them—they’re always bickering.”
“That’s called foreplay.” He meets my gaze, eyes sparkling.
I blink. “Oh my God. How do I miss these things?”
He chuckles and pulls a couple of tiny bird bones out of the box, then picks up a soft toothbrush to start cleaning them.
I let my gaze linger on him for a moment. The sleeves of the tee cling to his biceps, which look hard and shiny, as if Michelangelo has carved them from a block of marble. His hair is a little damp at the temples, and the touch of stubble that had grazed his jaw last night has disappeared—he’s had a shower. I can smell the cologne he’s used, something deep and sensual.
He looks up and meets my gaze.
“I was just wondering what scent you use,” I say awkwardly, conscious of him catching me ogling.
“It’s called Black Phantom ‘Memento Mori’. It’s got rum and coffee notes, and it’s inspired by pirate ships braving black waters, leagues deep in mystery.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“That sounds perfect for you,” I say, a touch sarcastically.
“Yeah. I love all that shit.”
I laugh and choose another bone to clean and identify. He is a bit like a pirate, sailing across an exotic ocean and bringing the smell of rum, the warmth of the summer sun, and the scent of adventure.
“Why did you blush when I walked in?” he asks.
I stop mid brush and look at him. “I didn’t.”
“Ah… yes, you did. You went the color of that pot.” He points to the tub holding the toothbrushes. It’s a brilliant scarlet.
“You surprised me.” I clean carefully around the edge of the bone.
“Nothing to do with you having a dream about me last night?” he asks.
It’s so close to the truth—that erotic fantasy I had about him in the bath—that I can feel the warmth creeping into my face again. “No,” I say.
He chuckles. “The reason I ask is because I dreamed about you last night.”
“I don’t need to know the details of your wicked, one-track mind,” I state.
“You sure?” he asks. “There was melted chocolate involved.”
I tip my head from side to side as if I’m thinking about it, and we both laugh.
“Actually,” he says, “I dreamed about Greenfield. We were all young again, and it was one of those days when the clouds seemed to hang over the tops of the mountains. So peaceful. Although there was also a dragon chasing me through the forest, so… maybe not so peaceful.”
“A dragon?”
“Don’t ask.”
I grin and choose another bird bone, which looks like a radius—part of a wing. “I spoke to my dad this morning, by the way.”
