Sea Glass Island (Ocean Breeze) - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,22
happy little buzz. Three was apparently one too many, she concluded as she wobbled slightly.
He gave her a wry look. “Keeping my mind on full alert.”
“Ah, to avoid all the devious scheming going on around here tonight,” she concluded.
“Exactly.”
“Want to go for a walk, instead? I think I might be the tiniest bit tipsy. A walk would be good.”
“It will also lend fodder to the family gossip mill,” he suggested.
She airily waved off the warning. “Oh, so what? We’re tougher than that.”
He smiled. “If you say so.”
They’d walked down the driveway and started around the block when she paused and twirled around. It made her head spin, which was unfortunate, but she managed to stay upright with Ethan’s steady hand on her elbow.
“You okay?” he asked worriedly. “Any particular reason you decided to do that twirl?”
“I was showing off my dress. Do you like it? Grandmother thought you might.”
She watched as Ethan’s gaze dipped to the cleavage displayed by the dress’s neckline. There was no mistaking the heated reaction as his gaze lingered. She giggled.
“She was right. You do like it, don’t you? Especially the neckline. I’ve absolutely got to give that woman more credit. She is very, very wise. And sneaky.” She bobbed her head. “Yep, she is definitely sneaky.”
Ethan sighed. “Exactly how tipsy are you, Samantha?”
“Not tipsy,” she insisted. “That’s not possible. I can hold my liquor. I’ve only had three, or maybe four, glasses of champagne.” She glanced at the empty glass in her hand. “Could be five. I just finished the one I brought for you.”
“Have you eaten today?”
She thought about it. She couldn’t recall having anything since the bowl of cereal and yogurt she’d had for breakfast. “Not so much.”
“Then let’s get you back to the party and get some food into you.”
“More champagne would be lovely,” she told him.
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” she said compliantly, clearly startling him. Surprising him felt good. She couldn’t help wondering what he thought of her, especially after all the interfering attempts to push them together. “Am I pitiful, Ethan?”
He stared at her with a shocked expression. “Absolutely not. Why would you ask something like that?”
“Because no one in my family seems to think I can find a man on my own.”
“Then that would have to make me pitiful, too, since I’m the one they’ve targeted for you. Do you think I’m pitiful?”
She shook her head so hard it took another unfortunate spin. “You’ve very, very brave and sexy.” She smiled at him. “I always thought so, you know. Still do.”
Something in his expression seemed to soften at her words. “That’s nice,” he said. “But I’m not going to hold you accountable for anything you might say tonight. You’re a little looped.”
“Not looped,” she told him. “Just unin— What’s that word? Uninhibited, that’s it. I’m uninhibited.” She wobbled a little. “It’s kinda nice.”
“And dangerous,” Ethan muttered under his breath.
“Dangerous,” Samantha echoed, pleased. “I like that. Don’t you?”
“Not so much,” he said. “The truth is, you scare me to death.”
“How come?” she asked, honestly wanting to know how she could possibly scare a man who’d been through everything Ethan had been through. Scary and dangerous sounded much better than pitiful.
“Maybe it’s better if I don’t tell you that,” he said. “It could come back to bite me in the butt.”
“How?”
“Women have been known to take advantage of a man’s vulnerabilities,” he said.
“And you’re vulnerable to me?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, it seems I am.”
She beamed at him. “That’s nice,” she said. “I’m glad you like me, Ethan, ’cause I really, really like you. Always have.” Even as she spoke, she sank down on the grass right where she’d been standing. “I think I’ll sleep now.”
Ethan stood there for a heartbeat, his amusement unmistakable. But then she felt herself being scooped into his arms and carried somewhere. To his bed would be nice, she thought before falling soundly asleep.
* * *
“How’s your head?” Gabi inquired even as she handed over a glass of water and a couple of aspirins to Samantha.
The sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window made her head pound. “That depends. Am I dead?”
“No, I’m pretty sure you just wish you were,” her sister said, amusement threading through her voice. “Just how much did you drink last night?”
“No idea,” Samantha admitted. “How big a fool did I make of myself?”
“You’ll have to ask Ethan that. He was with you when you crashed.”
Samantha buried her face in her hands. “Oh, sweet heaven! He must think I’m awful.”