Fighting the Undertow

  FIGHTING THE UNDERTOW

  Eden Rivers

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Fighting the Undertow

  Eden Rivers

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  870 Market St, Suite 1301

  San Francisco CA 94103-2907

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © November 2008 by Eden Rivers

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-827-3

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Ann M. Curtis

  Cover Artist: Anne Cain

  Chapter One

  Val came up sputtering and shook her head to clear the water from her nose. Cursing under her breath and fighting back fear, she plotted a diagonal course to shore and began cheating the current a bit at a time. She groaned as she watched her would-be rescuer swim toward her. Hell, what was that guy thinking? The idiot was going to drown if he got caught in the riptide.

  “Go back!” Since her gestures might be perceived as a plea for help, she gave up and concentrated instead on closing the distance between herself and the beach.

  Her calf muscles twisted into a fiery knot, and her lungs felt as if she were breathing liquid acid. But she was used to swimming through the burn. At least Mr. Hero wasn’t a bad swimmer, and she’d abandoned her concern that he might drown.

  “Hang on!” His strokes were smooth and sure.

  Oh, goody, I was counting the seconds to your arrival. “Just thought you’d swim out ‑‑” She bobbed under another wave and came up sputtering. “And see if you could get caught in the riptide this morning?”

  “You’re not in trouble?” Having narrowed the gap between them, Mr. Hero seemed perplexed to discover his assistance might not be needed.

  “Trouble’s ‑‑” She paused to pant for air. “A relative thing. I’m ‑‑ not delighted ‑‑ that I got caught in the ‑‑ current.”

  “But you’re not exactly drowning?”

  So, he had a sense of humor and appreciated the irony of his actions. Val liked that. “Sorry to disappoint.” She heaved a sigh of relief as the water grew warmer closer to shore. Not long now.

  “I’ll keep you company, then. If you’re going to fight the undertow before breakfast, why do it alone?” He sounded winded, but his strokes didn’t falter.

  Damn, she liked him. After two years with Dean the Humorless, she appreciated a man with a little spirit.

  As they swam into shallow water, she stood up and then bent to rub her calf. The mystery swimmer stood beside her, shaking water out of his golden hair. She’d never gone for blonds. But something about this guy made it hard to tear her eyes away. When she tried to put weight on her left leg, she swore under her breath. The prospect of swimming to shore didn’t appeal, but it might be easier than walking.

  “If I promise not to tell, will you let me lend a hand?”

  Accepting aid from her knight in shining swim trunks seemed like a better option than swimming, so she grabbed his shoulder and used it for support as she hobbled through the shallow water.

  “Now I don’t feel so ridiculous for swimming out to you.” He tucked his arm around her waist when she lost her balance, and she noticed he was at least half a head taller than she was.

  When they reached dry ground, she plopped down on the sand and enjoyed the luxury of taking several deep breaths in a row.

  “Nothing like an adrenaline rush to start the day, is there?” He ran his hands over his face to brush away the remaining water and lay down on the sand beside her. There wasn’t an extra ounce of flesh on his body. Water beaded on the light hair covering his chest, and the morning sun highlighted the tight ridges of muscle.

  “Sometimes nature likes to remind you who’s boss.” Wringing the water out of the tangle of auburn hair that clung to her shoulders and back, Val glanced sideways at the man to check him out.

  His eyes were sea green, and his chin and cheekbones could have been chiseled out of marble. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, but something about his face told her he’d seen his share of troubles.

  “You’re not a weekend swimmer, are you?” His gaze traveled over her body as he spoke, and she suspected he was checking out more than her tightly toned swimmer’s muscles.

  “I was on the swim team in college. Spent my summers doing lifeguard duty.” While she massaged her leg, she caught herself wondering what his hands would feel like cupped around the curve of her ass.

  The rich scent of ocean salt and baking sand kicked through her like an aphrodisiac, her pulse thrumming with the pounding waves. As he lay on the sand beside her, naked except for his swim trunks, something about him stirred up feelings she hadn’t had in ‑‑ well, longer than she could say. Uncomfortable with the warmth that spread through her belly when he sat up and stretched, Val started to hoist herself to her feet, but her leg had other ideas.

  “Come on, I’ll help you limp back to your car.” He stood and offered his hand.

  As she brushed sand off her legs and backside, Val considered. She could sit here and bask in the sun ‑‑ not an altogether unattractive prospect, seeing as she didn’t have to be at the shop until two ‑‑ or she could accept help from Mr. Sexy. Swallowing her pride, she reached for his hand.

  “Tell you what ‑‑ my cottage is just up the path through those dunes. Why don’t you come up for coffee?”

  Didn’t take him long to make his move. “No, thanks. I’m not in the habit of going home with guys I’ve just met.”

  He looked stung. “That wasn’t a line. I thought it would be tough to make it to the parking lot with your leg bothering you.”

  “Sorry.” She might as well take out an ad ‑‑ Recently heartbroken, no longer trusts men.

  “I have friends visiting. We won’t be alone.”

  Her leg hurt more than she wanted to admit, and like it or not, she was attracted to the guy. “Sure, why not? I’m Valerie. I also answer to Val, or Vee.”

  “Ian. Ian Winters.” He paused and turned to face her. “So, Valerie, Val, or Vee, let’s go have some coffee.”

  * * * * *

  No one had ever accused Val of being shy, but she was a bit daunted by the cozy group in the kitchen. Skipping introductions, Ian seated her at the table and rummaged in the freezer for an ice pack. Val glanced around the kitchen. It was neat and well equipped but lacked any feminine influence. Still, the scent of morning coffee and frying eggs gave the room a cozy feel.

  “Here you go.” He handed her the ice. “Coffee’s next, and you’re in for a treat, because Tyler makes the best omelets this side of heaven.”

  She glanced up at the man at the stove. So that one was Tyler. He seemed to be in his natural element as he sprinkled scallions into a pan, but she woul
dn’t have pegged him as someone who liked to cook. As he moved around the kitchen, muscles rippling under his nutmeg brown skin, his easy confidence suggested he was used to giving orders and having them followed.

  “I’m Abby.” A woman with short black hair ‑‑ and a sultry look enhanced by the fact that she wore nothing but an oversized T-shirt over her bathing suit ‑‑ leaned across the table to shake Val’s hand. Just when the warm grasp threatened to exceed the boundaries of a casual welcome, Abby released her hand. “Don’t be a clod, Ian. Introduce us.”

  Ian set a mug down in front of Val and sat beside her. “Everyone, this is Val.” With a flourish, he gestured at his friends. “Val, this is everyone.”

  Okay, so he was comfortable with these people. Not just friends, close friends. Val savored the steaming coffee. The quality of the coffee surprised her nearly as much as the sexual hum in the room. As unmistakably as if she stood beside a hive of bees, the energy buzzed through her senses. These people were aware of each other.

  Glancing from Ian to Val, Abby shook her head. “Sorry, we’ve tried to civilize him, but he’s hopeless. Here’s the rundown. The one at the stove is mine.” She gestured in Tyler’s direction. “Mostly, anyway.”

  Mostly? The word sent a shiver down Val’s spine as she waved at the chef with the body of an Olympian. He wore frayed denim shorts and a tie-dyed T-shirt, though his close-shaved black curls didn’t fit the retro image. His friendly wink made her feel as if she were part of the group.

  “Mr. Sleepyhead over there, the one curled up on the window seat with his head buried in the Boston Globe, is Jeremy.”

  “Hey, Val.” Jeremy’s smile could have melted wax, and he maintained eye contact for a few heartbeats before turning back to his paper.

  Dark hair fell across his forehead, and when he glanced back at her, the heat in his brown eyes made her blush. Something lay just beneath the surface of his gaze, wary and watchful.

  “Keep an eye on that one.” Ian raised an eyebrow at Jeremy. “He’s a vet, and we credit his rough edges to spending too much time with his furry patients.”

  Recognizing the comment as an attempt to bait Jeremy, Val ignored Ian and focused on the fifth member of the group.

  “Hey. I’m Nathan.” He had a sturdy, athletic build, but his short brown hair, polo shirt, and khaki shorts hinted at a more subdued personality than that of Tyler-the-Sexy-Chef, or Mr. Too-Hot-to-Handle Jeremy.

  “Nathan does a good job of keeping Jeremy in check, and he’ll protect you from me, too, if necessary.” Ian’s tone was light, but Val’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of them pursuing her to the point where she’d need protection.

  Ian hadn’t bothered to pull on a shirt, and she was uncomfortably aware of him sitting half-naked beside her. Like static electricity, the undercurrents in the room tickled across the back of her neck. She could feel his eyes on her, as palpable as if he’d dragged his fingers across bare flesh.

  With a shiver, she remembered the warmth of his skin, wet against hers, as he’d helped her limp to shore. For an instant, she saw herself tangled up with him in the water on a moonless night. As the waves lapped against her belly, she wrapped her legs tight around his waist. She bit his shoulder as he entered her, tasting the salt of the ocean on him…

  Val startled when Tyler touched her wrist. With a flourish, he presented a perfect omelet and hash browns.

  “Thanks.” Blinking to clear away the daydream, she decided it had been way too long since she’d gotten hot and sweaty with someone. Brunch presented a welcome distraction, and she let out a little sigh of contentment as she started in on her omelet.

  Nathan settled across the table from her. “So, tell us about yourself.”

  Ian set down his fork and answered before she had a chance. “Val’s a swimmer. Her leg was bothering her, so I invited her back to rest awhile.” He brushed his hand along the length of her calf. “Seems like the muscle’s relaxing. How’s it feel?”

  “Better.” Flustered by his touch, she wondered if she should leave. She’d moved here to sort out her life and pick up a new career, not to get involved with a sexy stranger.

  “Do you live around here?” Ignoring Ian’s glare, Jeremy set down his paper and moved over to the table. His movements were lithe and beautiful, but she caught a hint of wariness again, masked by casual curiosity.

  If she read things correctly, Jeremy was looking out for Ian the way Bren had watched over her since her breakup. And when Abby was making introductions, Val could have sworn a shadow crossed her face, as if she felt like there should be someone else at the table.

  “I’m staying with a friend in town. She owns a gift shop, and I’m working there while I decide what to do next. Time for a career change.” Half-truths, but she had no desire to spill her heart to strangers.

  “Watch out, he’ll interrogate you if you let him.” Ian shook his head at Jeremy.

  When Jeremy directed a look of wounded innocence at Ian and pulled Nathan back to the window seat, Val realized the two were a couple. So, Mr. Dangerous the vet was bi, and Ian was the only one who wasn’t paired off. She’d bet anything there’d been a sixth friend whose absence was fresh enough to be uncomfortable.

  Damn, she’d gone for a morning swim and ended up getting sucked into a soap opera. The last thing she needed right now were complications. And she had a hunch Ian was complicated with a capital C.

  Best to leave before her curiosity got the best of her. Val stood and placed her plate on the counter, pleased that her leg seemed willing to accommodate her plans, and then edged toward the door. “I should be heading back. I work this afternoon, and I’ve got errands to run. Thanks for breakfast.”

  As Ian stood, she let the screen door swing shut behind her. She looked back through the screen. “Maybe we’ll run into each other on the beach.”

  Her instincts told her to put as much distance as possible between herself and Ian. He and his enmeshed little circle of friends were more than she could handle at present. With a twinge of regret, she limped down the path. Startled by a cool hand on her shoulder, she whirled to scold Ian for sneaking up on her.

  Val took a step back in surprise. “What the hell?” Ian stood back by the house. Yet she knew, with certainty, that someone had touched her. A flock of gulls winged up from the nearby dunes, their raucous cries scolding whatever had upset them and startling Val in the process.

  As she struggled to get her heart rate back to normal, Ian hurried to join her. He’d taken time to tug on a faded blue shirt before leaving the cottage, and judging by his frown, something had him off balance.

  “‘What the hell’ isn’t much in the way of a greeting, is it, Miss Vee?”

  His teasing sounded forced, and Val could have sworn he’d paled under his tan. She decided not to mention the hand on her shoulder. Better to focus on the more immediate problem of avoiding temptation.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Walking you to your car. Much to my surprise, I want to see you again.”

  Now there’s a line. What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not that I find you attractive or interesting, but for some reason I feel compelled to follow you down the beach? She hoped her hair hadn’t dried in a tangled mess. Reaching up to check, she ran her fingers through the mass of curls.

  Ian frowned. “That didn’t come out right. I was afraid I’d scare you off if I told you I think you’re sexy, funny, and more tolerant of my friends than most people.”

  As they walked, she buried her toes in the hot sand, trying to decide how to respond. “Complicated. That’s what scared me off. You’ve got ‘complicated’ written all over you.” Wind whipped sand across her legs, and the first picnickers of the day made their way down the winding boardwalks as she detoured away from the parking lot to retrieve her things from under a lifeguard chair.

  “Huh. Not that you’re wrong. But how did you know?”

  Val considered whether to answer or ditch him and bolt for her
car. The problem was, her mind insisted on picturing him without his clothes. She wondered what his skin would taste like, if he liked to use his tongue when he kissed, and ‑‑ God help her ‑‑ what kind of sounds he made in bed. Besides, she liked his honesty. It went well with the sense of humor.

  “Abby felt like she should be introducing a sixth person who wasn’t there, and Jeremy was screening me to make sure I wasn’t likely to hurt you. Given the way they’re looking out for you, and the absence of person number six, I concluded you’re complicated.”

  That, and either I’m going insane, or you’ve got a ghost hanging out in the dunes by your cottage. Frowning, she reminded herself that she’d swallowed a lot of water earlier. Her legs felt like lead, and she needed a nap. Not insane. Exhausted.

  “Now I’m the one who’s ready to run.” His green-gray eyes filled with shadows.

  “Further evidence. You don’t like it when people see through you, and you’ve got a moody side.”

  “In this career you decided to change, did you happen to work with people?”

  “Bull’s-eye.” Yikes, she’d just picked apart a guy she’d only known a couple of hours. Nice interpersonal skills, Val. But for some reason, he hadn’t run screaming into the water.

  When Ian hesitated at the edge of the parking lot, she tilted her head toward her little Mazda. “There’s my car.”

  Rather than taking the hint, he touched her elbow. “Having decided I’m complicated ‑‑ you were right on with all your observations, by the way ‑‑ would you meet me for a swim tomorrow morning?”

  “I’m not looking to get involved with anyone right now.”

  “I proposed a swim, not marriage.” His grin was irresistible. “Six o’clock, by the snack stand?”

  Oh, why the hell not? “Sure. I’ll be there.”

  Before she realized what he was up to, he leaned in and kissed her. The kind of kiss that would have had them ripping their clothes off if they were alone. He pulled away before she wanted him to, leaving her with the desire to further explore his mouth. Maybe she was losing her mind, but she couldn’t wait to tumble into bed with him.