understanding had kept both brothers at the top of their game as they traveled the world and competed in—and won—numerous international competitions. Because they were identical twins competing at the highest echelon of surfing circles, they were often treated like celebrities with all the perks that came with the territory. Especially women. They were everywhere and temptation was strong.
It was a wild life that might’ve eaten them up if they hadn’t taken to heart the life lessons their father had taught them early on. Thanks to Dad’s good example, they didn’t take the lure of the high life too seriously. They also followed the number-one rule of surfers everywhere: Never turn your back on the ocean.
In other words, Logan thought: Pay attention. A guy never knew when a wave might knock him down or a shark would eat him alive.
Logan had learned the hard way that the rule applied to women especially. He’d let down his guard five years ago when he met Tanya and convinced himself he was in love with her. When he asked her to marry him and she said yes, he thought his life was complete. A year into their marriage, she was killed in a car crash and he thought he might die along with her. It wasn’t until the funeral that Logan found out she had been driving off to meet her lover, some clown that had worked in the twin brothers’ accounting office.
Never turn your back on the ocean. If his wife’s betrayal wasn’t enough to remind him that women, like sharks, were not to be trusted, Logan only had to remind himself that his own mother had deserted them when he and Aiden were seven years old.
With a determined pull on the boom, Logan angled the sail around and headed back to land. For the past few years, his emotions had drifted between grief that Tanya had to die and guilt that he’d never really loved her anyway. He had finally resigned himself to the fact that he just wasn’t capable of love—and that was fine with him. Women were in plentiful supply and he certainly enjoyed them. A lot. The more the merrier. But that didn’t mean he would ever fall in love and he sure as hell would never trust another woman again.
As he sailed closer to the beach, he spotted Grace Farrell walking through the clusters of palms growing in profusion along the bay. The muscles of his hands tightened around the mast and boom as he watched the gorgeous research scientist pause at each palm tree to study the roots and base. He was glad to see she’d taken his advice and worn a wide-brimmed hat today, along with a loose shirt with sleeves that would protect her sensitive shoulders from the unrelenting heat of the sun.
But there was barely anything covering up her long, shapely legs and even from this distance, he could appreciate the view of those legs and her luscious bottom as she bent over to search for spores.
Spores, for God’s sake.
After a moment, she straightened up, then noticed him and waved. He grinned and aimed the board in her direction and sailed to within a few feet of the beach.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Same to you.” Logan folded the rigging and secured it to the board with a Velcro strap. Then he pulled the board onto the sand far enough to insure that it wouldn’t slip back into the water.
“Hunting for more spores?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Have you been out long?”
“About an hour,” he said.
She stared at the board, then back at him. “How in the world do you stay upright on that thing?”
Logan ran both hands through his wet hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “It’s magic.”
“It would have to be,” she mused. Her gaze slipped down to his wet, bare chest. “Would you like my towel?”
“No, thanks. I’m okay.”
She held it out for him. “But you’re so wet and, um, well, it’s your towel, actually, since I took it from my hotel room.”
“Well, since it’s mine,” he said, chuckling as he took the towel. Maybe she hadn’t seen many dripping-wet men in swim trunks back at her research lab because she seemed awfully flustered. He hoped like hell that he made her uncomfortable. It would serve her right for manipulating and lying to him.
He took his time drying himself off as he studied her. She’d been on the island four days now and true to her word, she spent each morning hunting for spores, then worked the cocktail lounge in the afternoons and evenings. And she hadn’t dropped a single glass since the first day’s fiasco.
He noticed her cheeks had a rosy pink glow from her mornings in the sun. He liked the glow almost as much as he liked her fabulous legs and perfect rear end. Even knowing the woman was a liar and not to be trusted, Logan found her incredibly appealing. He wanted her in his bed with an urgency that was going to reveal itself any second now if he didn’t get the hell out of here.
“I’ve got work to do,” he muttered finally, and handed her the towel as he walked away.
Grace clutched the damp towel as she stared at Logan’s backside until he disappeared through a door into the hotel. Then she pressed the towel to her face to cool herself off. She was certain she’d never met such a formidable man. Certainly not one with a body like that. Or eyes like that. Or hair, so adorably short and blond and spiky when wet.
But for goodness’ sake, did that mean she had to practically drool in front of him? And could she possibly have thought of anything dumber to say to him? How in the world do you stay upright on that thing? What was wrong with her?
She blamed it on his smile. This was the first time he’d smiled at her without showing his sarcastic or ironic side. The sweetness of it had nearly blinded her. And talk about upper-body strength. The man was built. She’d wondered what he looked like under his business suit and now she knew. The knowledge was life affirming, to say the least.
She turned back to her task but was still trying to shake off the effects of Logan’s smile ten minutes later. She silently recited the periodic table of elements, an effective trick she used whenever she was having trouble concentrating. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working today. She feared that smile of his might have a half-life of more than several hours because she was still caught up in its spell.
With a sigh, she walked away from the beach and deeper into the forest of vegetation. Despite the heat, she appreciated the extra layer of humidity, knowing it was the best breeding ground for her beloved spores.
“Beloved spores,” she uttered aloud, shaking her head. Did that sound pathetic or what? But the truth was, sometimes she felt closer to the tiny, one-celled meiotic organisms than she did to people. Well, except for Phillippa, of course. Her lab partner and mentor had been her friend for years and right now, she could use someone to talk to. One thing she loved about Phillippa was that she always had an opinion about everything. Grace wondered what her friend would think of Logan Sutherland.
Grace was certain Phillippa would declare him “hawt.”
Okay, he was hot, all right. But as she pushed past a giant fern, Grace gave herself a good talking-to. It didn’t matter whether Logan was hot or not. He was her boss and Grace had no business thinking of him that way. All she needed from Logan Sutherland was his approval of her work in the cocktail lounge, nothing more.
She forced all thoughts of Logan away and got to work, backtracking to the palm trees where she’d found spores yesterday. Close to the base of each tree, she
