Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(5)

She bit her lush lower lip, making it glisten. “I don’t think so.”

“No?” Remy stared at her mouth, wanting to kiss her so badly he shook with it. “What about the time I told you to dump that accountant because he seemed shady as hell? Did he, or did he not, get busted for tax evasion and money laundering four months later?”

Zandra heaved a breath. “Fine. You were right that time. But only because you ran a background check on him without my knowledge or consent,” she added, uncrossing her arms to jab a finger into his chest. “And I’m still convinced you were the one who reported him to the feds.”

Remy chuckled. “I’ll never tell,” he drawled, his gaze dipping to her voluptuous breasts. Her nipples were still hard, thrusting brazenly against the thin cover-up. It was all he could do not to lower his head and suck one into his mouth like a ripe cherry.

Seeing the naked hunger in his eyes, Zandra shivered, goose bumps rising on her skin. Her nipples tightened even more.

Licking his lips, Remy lifted his gaze slowly to hers.

They stared at each other, the air between them seething with the kind of raw heat that led to hard, grinding, primal sex.

Pulse pounding, Remy took a step toward her. “Zandra—”

Something like panic flared in her eyes before she blurted, “Let’s race.”

He stopped, brows furrowing. “Race?”

“Yeah. You know, like we used to when we were kids.” She pointed to a distant white buoy bobbing in the water. “That’ll be our finish line.”

Remy chuckled softly. “I don’t think racing is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Because I don’t want to swim anymore. I want to carry you back to your hotel room, strip you naked, lick every inch of your beautiful body and bury myself deep inside your wet heat until you scream and beg for mercy.

Aloud he drawled, “As I recall, you used to throw temper tantrums and sulk for hours after I beat you at anything.”

Zandra sniffed. “That was then. I’m thirty-two years old now. I think I can handle losing a friendly little race—especially to a former SEAL. So are you game or not, sailor?”

“Sure.” A lazy smile curved Remy’s mouth. “I’ll even give you a head start.”

“Oh, please. I’m not a helpless little girl. I don’t need any charity from you.”

Remy eyed her knowingly. “Then why are you— What the hell?” he called as she took off suddenly with a bewitching peal of laughter.

He grinned as he watched her swim away, her arms and legs gliding through the water with the grace of a mermaid.

He knew she’d only suggested the race as a diversion tactic. She’d felt the powerful attraction between them and it terrified her. So she’d invented an excuse to flee, just as she’d been doing for the past several months.

But if Zandra thought she could keep running from him, she underestimated the depth of his feelings for her.

Underestimated his determination to have her.

Underestimated him, period.

He patiently waited until she’d put enough distance between them, and then he started after her.

Ready or not, here I come.





Chapter Two

Dinner that evening was held beneath a canopy erected on a private area of the beach. Candles flickered and glowed on the linen-covered table, which was long enough to accommodate the festive gathering of twenty-one. Fragrant platters of grilled fish, lobster, conch, curried chicken and plantain were passed around for sharing as a steel drum band serenaded the diners with calypso music.

Zandra swayed her shoulders to the melodic island beats as she enjoyed her meal and tried her damnedest to ignore Remy, who sat across the table from her. But no matter how hard she willed herself not to look his way, she found her eyes straying to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

He looked incredible in a black polo shirt and white linen trousers. She couldn’t help staring at the hard angles of his face, the breadth of his wide shoulders and the strength of his powerfully muscled arms. His potent masculinity was an assault on her senses, leaving her breathless and aching in places she’d nearly forgotten existed.

Every time she glanced across the table, she found him already watching her, his midnight eyes glittering with a fierce, possessive hunger that made her feel branded. Claimed.

It should have angered her. She didn’t belong to him, or any other man. But trapped in the smoldering beam of his gaze, with her heart thumping and her womb clenching, she felt no anger. Only lust. The kind of lust that could tempt her into doing something utterly stupid, reckless and dangerous.

Like having sex with Remy.

“I need to move that candle out of the way,” murmured an amused voice beside her.

Snapped out of her trance, Zandra tore her gaze from Remy to stare at his youngest sister, Racquel, who sat to her right. “Hmm? What’d you say, Rocky?” she asked, calling her by the childhood nickname she’d earned for the feisty temper that had frequently gotten her into fights at school.

“I said,” Racquel repeated, her dark eyes glinting with amusement, “I need to move that candle out of the way before you and my brother start a fire. You think I haven’t noticed the way you two have been staring at each other across the table?”