Page 6 of Hot Water

“Amelia Thorne Reynolds,” he says.

“Yes,” I repeat.

He grins at me, a wolfish, roguish grin. “Well, Amelia Thorne Reynolds, I’m your future.”

I blink rapidly, positive I didn’t hear him correctly. “Your name is Future?”

“No, baby.” His smile grows. “I said I’m your future. My name is Sinclair Midnight.”

My heart sinks as realization dawns. I shouldn’t have given him my name. He must have recognized it. Now, he wants to marry me. Great. Just great.

Not even in Barbados can I find a normal man who doesn’t treat me like a bank account. Awesome.

“No, thank you.” I try to pull my hand from his, but he refuses to let me.

“No, thank you?”

“You heard me. You can let me go now.”

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t curse at me.” I poke him in the ribs again with my other hand. “And let me go.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“I know men like you, Sinclair Midnight.” I lift my chin in the air, glaring at him. “You heard my name and suddenly heard wedding bells, right? Well, no, thank you. I’m marrying for love, not because someone wants an heiress on their arm.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his expression completely level. I expect him to let me go or deny it or try to convince me that we’d make a great couple or something. It’s the usual MO. Instead, he simply stares at me for a long moment, and then he throws his head back and laughs loudly.

That’s a new one. I don’t know how to react to laughter. So, I poke him again. Harder this time. I don’t think he means to do it, but he accidentally releases me.

I hop to my feet, putting distance between us.

“Baby.” He chuckles, climbing to his feet. “Wait a minute.”

“Leave me alone, Sinclair Midnight.”

He starts toward me, his arms outstretched as if he’s going to grab me. But for once in my life, fate is on my side. The lifeguard comes running up before he manages to get his hands on me.

“He’s the one who almost drowned,” I squeak, pointing at him.

Sinclair narrows his eyes on me.

“I think he might have bumped his head. He definitely needs to be checked out. He may even need to go to the hospital.”

The lifeguard, a burly man with rippling muscles and tiny red shorts, stalks toward him.

“When I get my hands on you, mermaid, you’re going to pay for this,” Sinclair growls at me.

“Am not,” I call, rushing toward the lounger where I left my phone. I snatch it up, taking a final peek over my shoulder.

Sinclair’s eyes are still locked on me.

I shiver at the intensity burning in them, ripping my gaze from his as I flee toward the hotel, out of sorts, frustrated, and sad. For the first time in my life, I find a guy that I think I actually like, and he’s worse than the rest.

Vacation sucks.

CHAPTER 3

---