Love Overboard - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,28
out of her shoes and pulled the wet sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a soaked T-shirt. And what about me? she wondered. Did she deserve Ivan Rasmussen? Wasn’t Steve enough? She twisted the bottom of her T-shirt and squeezed out the water. Two ringers in a row. How could she be so lucky?
Ivan had stripped to the waist and had his hands on the snap to his jeans.
Stephanie looked over and felt a rush of panic. Lord, he was getting undressed! Ivan Rasmussen naked. The answer to every woman’s dream. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Well, wasn’t it?
She swallowed hard and admitted that romance was one thing—naked was another. She might not be ready for naked. Especially since Ivan wasn’t inclined to follow through on sexual overtures. What if she got carried away and attacked him, and he rejected her? Good grief, Stephanie, she thought, that’s insane. She wasn’t going to attack him. The most likely scenario was that she’d start stammering and sweating and probably hyperventilating.
She put her hands on her hips and squinted through the drops of water trickling into her eyes from her soaked bangs. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting out of my clothes. In case you haven’t noticed, they’re wet. They’re wet because, demented fool that I am, I jumped into the ocean to save you. I don’t know why I felt compelled to do that. Lord knows you’re perfectly capable of saving yourself. You’ve been thrown into the Hudson River, probably pushed out of third-story windows, and dragged through rat-infested alleys.” He raked his hand through his wet hair. “You know, it’s damn hard to be a hero for you.”
Stephanie scowled at him. “I don’t need a hero.”
“What do you need?”
She didn’t exactly know what she needed. Actually, a hero wouldn’t be a bad place to start. A small hero. Nothing on the scale of Superman or Batman. She looked at Ivan. He was heroic enough. Especially now that he was standing in front of her in a pair of tight, soaked-to-the-skin navy blue briefs. He might even be more heroic than she needed, she thought, chewing on her lower lip. “You’re going to leave those on, aren’t you?” she asked hopefully.
She was nervous. Not much experience with naked men, he thought. He liked that. He didn’t want to share Stephanie with anyone— from her past or present or future. “What happened to being brave?”
Her body responded with a ripple of desire, and her temper flared equally as strongly. “Is this why you dunked me in the water? So you could come in here and flaunt your naked body at me?”
He crossed the room and took a pair of sweats from Ace’s bunk. “Just for the record, one more time, I didn’t dunk you in the water. You dunked yourself in the water.” He knew he was asking for trouble, but he couldn’t resist teasing. She was terrific when she was indignant.
“And now that I think about it, I suppose I could make the same accusation. I know you’re hot for my body, but this is going to an unnecessary extreme. If you wanted to get me naked—” He turned around just in time to dodge a frying pan.
“Out!” Stephanie shouted, pointing to the hatch. “Out! Out! Out! Before I start throwing knives!”
Ivan stood at midship and watched his passengers depart. He was waiting for Stephanie, wondering if she would warm up when she said good-bye. The atmosphere between them at breakfast had been very frosty, and lunch hadn’t been much better. He straightened when he saw Stephanie emerge from the hatch with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She briskly walked past him with her nose tipped up ever so slightly. “ ’Bye,” Ivan said.
Stephanie narrowed her eyes and threw him a brief sideways glance without breaking stride.
A small smile lit his face. Maybe he’d underestimated the way she felt about him. She had to have some serious emotions to be so mad. She stormed up the hill without a second glance, and Ivan felt elated at her fury. This is just the beginning, he thought. Winters were long in Maine. It would be nice to have such a challenging project. Stephanie Lowe was doomed.
Mr. and Mrs. Pease approached him. “It was great,” Mr. Pease said. “We’ll be back next year.”
Mrs. Pease looked less enthusiastic. “Next time I’m bringing my heart medicine. That girl with the blue hair and butcher knife sure had me going for a while. And the