His gaze moved over her in a quick, thorough glance, then he looked again, giving her a more leisurely going over. The woman had enough curves to make any man sit up and beg.
“Wow,” he said, walking a slow, tight circle around her, “you look…” Familiar was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t figure out why that would be, so he let it go in favor of, “amazing.”
The bikini she wore was a deep red and clung to her body like a lover’s hands. Her breasts were high and full, her waist was small, her hips rounded and just above her behind, at the small of her back, a tiny tattoo of the sun peeked at him. Her skin was smooth and the color of warm honey. Her long, dark brown hair hung down her back and swayed with her every movement. And her chocolate eyes were watching him with satisfaction.
“Thanks,” she said, fisting her hands at her bare hips. “I believe I’ve made my point.”
He grinned at her. “What point was that?”
“That the right bathing suit makes all the difference.”
“Honey,” he said, “with a body like that, you could wear one of my suits and look amazing.”
She shook her head and he was fascinated with the way her hair danced and swayed. His body felt tight and need was a clamoring beast inside him. It was all he could do to keep his hands to himself, when what he wanted to do was pull her in close, kiss her until she couldn’t talk and then find the closest flat surface, lay her down on it and bury himself inside her.
But judging from the fire flashing in her eyes at the moment, that little fantasy wasn’t going to come true anytime soon.
“You’re incredible,” she said softly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I only dressed your models—and myself—to prove to you that I was right. That your way of doing things, mass-produced swimwear, isn’t the only way. That my way is better.”
“Not the way to make your fortune, though,” he said, leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb as she gathered up her tentlike blouse and skirt.
“Who says I’m interested in that?” she demanded, whipping her hair out of her eyes long enough to glare at him.
“You’re a businesswoman. Why wouldn’t you want to succeed?”
“Success doesn’t have to be your way.”
“My way’s not bad.” It occurred to him that he was defending his business. The very business he had never intended to start. “Contracting out to manufacturers streamlines the business, allows you to reach more customers and—”
“—And cuts you off from the customers, too,” she added. “You get so big you forget why you started your business in the first place. But that doesn’t matter to a King, does it?” She walked close, poked him in the chest with her index finger and said, “Your whole family—you’re like warlords or something. You swoop in, buy up what you want and never consider any way but yours.”
“Hey, now,” he argued, grabbing her finger and closing his fist around it. Warmth shot through him with the first contact of her skin against his, shattering his thoughts, obliterating whatever it was he’d been about to say.
He remembered feeling like this once before with the touch of a woman’s skin. Remembered the slide of her skin against his, the heat of their joining, the taste of her mouth, the tight fit of his body locked inside hers. And just for a second, Jesse stared at her, refusing to believe that Bella Cruz might be his mystery woman.
“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to tug her hand free of his grasp. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No way,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. It couldn’t be. Not her. Not the woman who had been a thorn in his side from day one.
“What?” This time she succeeded in pulling free of him and then she took a hasty step or two backward just for good measure. “Look, um, I’ve got to get to my shop. I’ve spent too much time here already and—”
“Just a minute,” he said, moving toward her, letting the RV door swing closed behind him. Inside, the trailer was filled with shadows, sunlight drifting through louvered shades on the windows. The scent of coffee and perfume hung in the air and from outside came the shouts and laughter of the crowd gathered to watch the photo shoot.
Jesse paid no attention to any of it. All he could see was her. Her chocolate eyes watched him warily even as he told himself that the only sure way to know if Bella was actually his mystery woman was to kiss her. To taste her. And damn if she was leaving this trailer until he’d done just that.
“Mr. King,” she said, looking around as if for an exit that wasn’t barred by his tall, broad body, “Jesse, I really do need to get going now.”
“Yeah,” he said, moving closer still until her breath fanned against his chin as she looked up at him. “I know. But there’s just one more thing we have to do first.”
She licked her lips. “What’s that?”
He smiled and dipped his head. “This,” he whispered, then took her mouth with his.
She went stiff as a board for about a split second, then pliant, leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her in close, his hands at her waist, his fingertips nearly burning with the heat her skin engendered. Her lips parted under his and his tongue swept into her warmth and he knew.
That taste of her was something he would never forget. Something he’d been dreaming about for three years. He finally had her in his arms again. Finally could hold her, taste her, touch her and as realization flooded him, he broke the kiss abruptly, stared down into her glazed, dark brown eyes and said, “It’s you.”
She staggered a little. “What?”
“You. On the beach. Three years ago.”
She blinked up at him, rubbed her fingertips across her mouth and then drew in a long, shaky breath. “Congratulations,” she said at last. “You finally remembered.”
“You knew?” he demanded. “You remembered and didn’t say anything to me?”
“Why would I?” she asked, gathering up the clothes she’d dropped when he was kissing her. “You think I’m proud of that night?”
“You ought to be,” he told her sharply. “We were great together.”
“We were strangers. It was a huge mistake.”
She tried to get past him, but Jesse grabbed her upper arm and stopped her dead. “I looked for you. The next day, I went back to the beach and looked all over.”
“You thought I’d just be lying there on the sand, waiting for you?”
“That’s not what I meant, damn it. But where the hell were you?”
Bella pushed her hand through her hair and glared at him. “You didn’t look for me very hard. I went to see you the next morning and you blew right past
