40-Love - Olivia Dade Page 0,3

a human shield. And he hadn’t uttered a word of complaint, even though she was disrupting his vacation.

Much as she hated to admit it, clutching him wasn’t exactly a hardship either. He was strong and warm and a formidable barrier between her and possible jail time.

His smooth, firm back felt good against her breasts. Too good. It was all very irritating.

Still, she knew her duty.

“Listen…” Her sigh pushed her breasts even tighter against him, and he went very still. “I’m sorry I was waspish. I panicked a little when my top fell off.” Before he could reiterate his preferred theory, she emphasized, “By accident. I’m an assistant principal. I can’t afford to be brought up on charges of indecent exposure and corrupting a minor and exceeding the maximum allowed volume of bare tatas in public.”

The rumble of his laugh vibrated through both their bodies, and to her dismay, her nipples responded.

“I’m not familiar with every American law, but I don’t think that third one exists. If it does, though, consider me a conscientious objector.” He gave her shin, currently resting somewhere along his flat belly, a pat. “And don’t worry. You’re not the first woman I’ve infuriated, and I’m certain you won’t be the last.”

She couldn’t resist. “I’m certain of that as well.”

He laughed again, and she found her lips twitching too.

“So what brings you to the island?” To her relief, he didn’t wiggle or take advantage of his position in any way. Instead, he seemed to be keeping close watch on the kids only a few feet away. “Are you celebrating something, or just taking a topless vacation?”

Nipping at his neck in retaliation for his smartass remark was not a good idea, she reminded herself. “I’m here with a friend to celebrate my birthday. I turn forty tomorrow.”

The number didn’t bother her, because it didn’t alter one iota of her demanding but comfortable life. It only marked the passage of time—time better spent achieving her professional goals than bemoaning the inevitable creep of age.

Besides, she liked those sparse threads of silver that had begun to appear in her hair. She was choosing to consider them free highlights.

“Happy early birthday, Ms. …” Pausing so she could fill in the rest, he turned his head until she could see his profile. His smile.

“Dunn. But under the circumstances, I think you can call me Tess.” She lowered her right hand to grab one of his and gave it an awkward shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Lucas Karlsson.” He let go of her hand and hesitated. “But maybe you already knew that?”

Cocky son of a gun. “Sadly, word of your good looks and charm hasn’t spread throughout the entire resort yet. Give it a few more days.”

“Fair enough.”

He didn’t sound offended. If anything, his shoulders seemed to drop a fraction.

“So why are you here, Lucas? And where are you visiting from?”

Good. She was getting this conversation back on impersonal footing, despite the way his satiny back caressed her breasts and how easily her legs cradled his narrow hips.

“I’m originally from Sweden, although I’ve lived in the U.S. for a few years. Miami, most recently. I became a permanent resident last year.” His hand swirled beneath the surface of a gentle wave. “I’m here for this beautiful water, I suppose. Sun. Sand. Relaxation.”

That explained the vaguely-British-but-not accent, although she wouldn’t have guessed Sweden. Then again, she probably shouldn’t take her linguistic cues from a Muppet spouting gibberish and hitting pretend meatballs with a tennis racket.

“Are you celebrating something?” she asked.

Jeez, she hadn’t even considered whether he might be here with someone else. The fact that he’d eagerly volunteered to hold her naked breasts didn’t preclude a significant other, and she didn’t want that someone to catch her plastered to Lucas’s back.

This little farce was enough drama for the entire vacation. She didn’t need more.

“Nope.” His voice sounded tight, for some reason. “Not a thing.”

That tanned, strong hand in the water…it was scarred. A neat T marked the wrist. And if she squinted, she could see something on the opposite wrist too. Another mark of…something. Surgery?

Not her business. “Well, I hope the rest of your trip goes well.”

“I don’t think my time here will get much better than this, to be honest.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “Consider yourself a highlight of my sojourn on the island.”

“How long are you staying?”

Would she see him around the resort again? Did she want to?

She shouldn’t. Scratch that, she didn’t. He was a cocky twenty-something

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