brown hair was tinted with shades of gold. Her breasts rose and fell with her shallow breathing. The sight of her taut nipples behind the thin fabric made his throat dry up. The dip of her waist, the curve of her hips, her toned legs—every inch of her body was an invitation of pleasure, would drive even the most sensible man to distraction.
Color suffused her cheeks at his continued scrutiny. “You’re staring at me.”
He hadn’t meant to. He didn’t want to. But she had a body made for sex. Was that why men lost their minds around her? Weak men, who cracked at the first sign of temptation and then it was just a downward spiral. Like his father. The passing thought about his father was enough to cool his desire—more effective than an electric shock.
He took a step back, his senses still reeling. “You’re an awful swimmer.”
Her chin lifted. An imperceptible movement both defiant and hurt.
“If you had drowned no one would even have heard you.”
Olivia felt heat creeping up her cheeks. The strong tide had been the reason she had finally waded out. She couldn’t admit that to him, though. Summoning every ounce of her meager willpower, she stayed still. Her fingers twitched for action. Either to push him off or sink her fingers into his tousled hair. “I didn’t drown.”
A smile spread from his mouth, tugging one corner of it upward, creating a delicious dimple. Sinuous heat slithered through her, pooling toward her groin.
His fingers moved to her nape and pressed gently. “I’m glad.”
He was pure sex on legs when he smiled like that, and he knew the power he wielded. But that didn’t stop the prickle of sensation that crept up along her skin. His contempt she could handle. His seduction, not so much. She took a step back, away from the warm invitation of all that male heat.
He tugged at her wrist, leaving her no choice but to turn around. “Where are you going?”
She folded her arms against her chest, preparing to do her best to sound like her twin. Doubly hard when her heart was galloping in her chest. All she needed was to get away from here—now. Then she would lock herself up until morning. Not that she was scared of him. It was her own aching need, her utter lack of control that she didn’t trust. “I would like to sleep alone tonight.” She fluttered her eyelashes, praying the man had a decent side. “Please, Alex.”
“Fine.”
The weight lifted from her shoulders. Before she could think of a response, he pulled her down with him, until they were both sitting down, shoulder to shoulder.
“Kiss me.”
Olivia couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “But...”
He raised a brow, a mocking smile curving his sexy mouth. “One kiss. You can’t deny your husband that.”
What woman refused to kiss her husband on her wedding night? But kissing him was tantamount to...
He frowned, his thumb moving over his lush lower lip. It was a deviation in the stark landscape of his face. “You’ve been acting strange all evening. I’m beginning to wonder—”
She moved toward him, striving hard to ignore the low thrum of anticipation building up inside her. She had no right to kiss the man. Kim had better have a damn good explanation for this charade. Or Alexander would... She didn’t even want to contemplate his reaction when he discovered the truth. Goose bumps rose up on her skin, dulling the edge of her desire.
His hands folded across his chest. His gaze devoured her. He was leaving it all to her. With her hands on his forearms she anchored herself and bent forward, making sure no other parts of their bodies touched.
Her eyes flew shut the moment she felt his breath upon her mouth. Tilting her head to the side, she touched her lips to the corner of his mouth, aiming for minimal contact. Every good intention vanished like a puff of smoke as the taste and feel of him singed her. Primal need spiraled through her, leaving a trail of agony in its wake. A groan she couldn’t control escaped her. Her hands locked on his chest between them. Their legs were in a tangle. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the wild scent of his arousal, fighting to control her own.
“Say yes,” he rasped near her ear.
Oh, how she wanted to find his mouth again with hers, to run her hands all over his corded strength. Swift on the sinful thought’s heels guilt shot through her, paralyzing every nerve ending, flushing her with shame from within. Contrary to the fact that the media frequently portrayed her as a poster child for scandal, there was a line Olivia wouldn’t cross.
Not again.
She pushed him back with a grunt, frustration and disgust vying within her. “No.” She pressed her fingertips into her arms, finding a perverse satisfaction in her painful grip. Trying to regulate her breathing, she offered him a smile. “I mean, not tonight. I’m really tired.”
He shot her a hard look, coating the very air between them with a chilly frost. “You taste like scotch and the ocean. And yet Kim can’t stand even the smell of alcohol.”
She twisted around so quickly that her head spun. His mouth was set into an unforgiving line and his gaze lanced her, the force of his contempt a live wire between them. He knew it was her.
She launched at him, outrage giving her much-needed momentum. “You know.” His arms between them warded off her blows with little effort. She didn’t care. “You know and you still forced me to kiss you. You bastard.”
Her words fell off him like waves pushing at the sand. His face hard as granite, he grabbed her wrists. “I wanted to see how far you would go.” His mouth tightened and his words were a quiet, menacing whisper. “Color me surprised to discover even Olivia Stanton has some morals.”
She didn’t think. She fisted her hand for a punch. Only his right hand gripped her wrist, his movements quick and agile. She struggled, remembering how hard she had found it to pull herself back from the temptation of his body. And the arrogant jerk had been testing her!
If she hadn’t pulled back when she had...if she hadn’t found that last ounce of sanity...to think how low she would have fallen....
A sob built inside her. His hands held hers down at either side. He could have easily twisted her arm behind her and hurt her. She wouldn’t have blamed him. He didn’t. A moan escaped her as he flipped her easily, sandwiching her facedown between the sand and his hard body.
Hating her complete loss of restraint, she wiggled to be free. The silky sand shifted and glided beneath her until his hard body slipped and covered hers in a sinuous whisper that made her mouth dry. His body slammed into her from behind with just enough force to still her.
“Stop it, Olivia.”
His breath sounded choppy and disjointed as he raised himself away from her. But it was too late. The incredible caress of his erection against her backside was etched on her body forever.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He already had. Olivia breathed in and out, sand flying into her mouth, hating the gnawing sensation in her stomach. Why would Alexander King’s opinion have the power to hurt her? She gave that power to no man, not anymore—not since
