Page 18 of Taylor’s Warrior

Once they joined the interstate, with little else to do, her mind started wandering. Eventually, her thoughts meandered in the direction of their ultimate destination and accommodations. Given the potential length of their stay, Taylor hoped it would be pleasant and comfortable. With an automatic thoughtful hum, she also wondered exactly how close to the beach it was.

Rhys shot her a quick glance. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I was just thinking about where we’re going to be living. Do you think we’ll be able to go to the beach?” She groaned. “Oh no.”

Even as she asked the question, the flaw in her plan became blindingly obvious.

“In answer to your question, possibly, but why the disappointment?”

“I never imagined we’d be going to a coastal location. I didn’t think to pack a swimsuit.”

Rhys chuckled. “Oh, is that all? I’m pretty sure, in a place like San Diego, we’ll be able to find somewhere that sells them.”

San Diego, a city renowned for the diversity of its beaches and its sparkling, deep blue waters—the perfect environment for swimming when conditions were right. The hint of dry humor didn’t pass her by.

“Okay, smart ass—did you pack any swim trunks?”

“Nope.”

Well, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. “Why not?”

“I’m working. This is an assignment, not a vacation.”

An announcement that only made her more determined to get Rhys to let his hair down. The last thing she wanted was for him to be standing there, watching her like a lifeguard, while she swam alone. Besides, she was a healthy, red-blooded woman who’d seen him stripped to the waist several times while cleaning his pickup, and she was curious about the rest of his physique. There was a whole lot of temptation wrapped up in those jeans, and while she knew what the white button-down shirt concealed, it was the details that stirred up her hormones—the hint of dark chest hair and the sleeves turned up to mid-forearm. She loved it when a man wore a shirt that way.

And when he smelled as good as Rhys did, her hormones went into a frenzy.

“In that case, going to the beach doesn’t matter.” There was no way she was going in the water without him.

“Why not? If it’s there, you should make the most of it.”

Fine in theory, but Taylor wasn’t having any of it. “The only way I’m going in the water is if you do, too.”

“Sorry. Not happening.”

His tone said he wasn’t going to give an inch. If she persisted, she could see the “discussion” lasting all the way to Tucson. Maybe even beyond, because a part of her intensely disliked the idea of conceding defeat on the matter.

“Oh, well.” Taylor turned her attention to her cell phone and swiped the screen. “Pity.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Just saying it’s a pity you won’t be able to enjoy the beach while we’re there.”

Her imagination conjured up an image of him in swim trunks. Of course, he could be a board shorts kind of guy, which, frankly, would be a crime against half of humanity, given the way stonewashed denim currently outlined an impressive pair of hard, muscular thighs and the even more impressive package at their apex.

And there went her mind again, wandering down avenues it really, really shouldn’t. A hint of a wicked smile teased her lips. There were some boundaries that just begged to be breached, and a little imagination never hurt anyone.

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There were times when being hyper-aware of his surroundings was a good thing—right now, not so much, because his body was responding all too readily to Taylor’s blatant interest in his thighs. Rhys had no doubt she believed she was being discreet enough to avoid detection; he had no intention of disabusing her of the notion, given how effectively the shades he was wearing concealed how often he was glancing in her direction.

So, having left El Paso behind, they were now on their way to Tucson, where they were scheduled to spend the second night of their road trip. So far, from a professional perspective this assignment had proved to be a walk in the park—Rhys hoped it would remain so until the situation was resolved, and they could return to Honey Fields to resume their respective lives.

Traffic on the interstate was sparse—not unlike conversation in the pickup, which dwindled away completely when Taylor made herself comfortable in the corner between the seat and the door, and fell asleep. She too was wearing sunglasses, but from the way her breathing changed, he had no doubt she’d genuinely dozed off.

With so few signs of human life around, not to mention the distinctly monotonous vista of dirt and scrub stretching to the distant hills, it was easy to let a portion of his mind wander back to the moment he’d first laid eyes on Taylor that morning.

The impact on his senses had been nuclear. Her perfume scored the initial hit—light, floral, and fresh. Hot on its heels had been the stunning combination of a pink t-shirt, blue jeans, and boots. Nothing fancy, but the outfit made one heck of an impression because of the way it highlighted her glorious curves. The surge of desire she ignited in him sure as hell put a strain on the groin area of his pants.