Page 16 of Gentle Persuasion

She grinned. “Only if I get to return the favor,” she teased and, cocking her eyebrow at him, raked his long, tanned body with a look that made his blood pressure rise.

He looked down in panic, hoping that it was the only thing rising, and then breathed a quiet sigh of relief, praying that he’d just be able to make it into the water before he embarrassed himself.

The sun block went on, swift and smooth, then Cole all but shoved her toward the water. He had no intention of letting her get her hands on him with that lotion. He was tough, but he’d have to be dead not to react to Debbie Randall.

He followed her path to the water, watching the way her hips swayed beneath that scrap of red fabric, and glared at a couple of young men who whistled and teasingly made a halfhearted grab for her ankles. They yanked their hands back as if Cole had slapped them and then grinned and shrugged as he stalked past. This was going to be more difficult than he’d imagined. If he took her to the beach again, she wasn’t wearing that damned red bikini. He’d take her shopping himself and see to it that some more of those tender curves were covered.

He was so busy glaring at every male within a hundred yards, he didn’t notice that Debbie had stopped. He bumped into her and sent them both staggering. By the time they’d righted themselves, Debbie had not only stopped, she was backing up. He looked down in surprise at the look of shock on her face and caught her midway in flight.

“Honey! What’s wrong?”

The tenderness in his voice was unexpected, but Debbie was so dumbstruck, she didn’t even hear it. All she could see was water…going on forever and ever. And the waves coming toward her in ruffled abandon. She swallowed and pointed.

“It’s so big!”

Cole wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her back against his chest. “It’s the ocean, Little Red. It’s supposed to be big.” And then something occurred to him. “Haven’t you ever seen the ocean?”

She shook her head, unable to speak for a moment.

“I’ve seen ponds. I’ve seen creeks. I’ve even seen rivers in flood. But every time, I could see land on the other side, too. I’ve never seen water and not seen it’s boundary.”

“Well, you have now,” he said. “Deborah Jean, welcome to the Pacific.” He scooped her up in his arms, and began walking with her toward the waves lapping at the shoreline.

Her arms tightened around his neck. “Cole?”

“I wouldn’t scare you on purpose, and you know it. Calm down. We’re just going to meet it together.”

The look on his face told her more than he’d meant to tell. She saw trust. She saw strength. And she saw something else Cole Brownfield never knew was showing. She saw tenderness…and desire.

At first the water felt cold. But the sun was hot, and the water refreshed them. Cole held her close against his body and let the waters tease her until Debbie felt comfortable with its rhythm.

“You can put me down now,” she said. And then when he began to comply, she cautioned nervously, “Just don’t go too far.”

Cole grimaced. He was already drowning in those wide, dark eyes. He wasn’t going anywhere unless Debbie went with him.

***

It was late. Debbie was asleep beneath the umbrella’s shade as Cole kept watch. And he was desperately watching everything and everyone except the woman lying beside him. He didn’t care. He’d already tried it and nearly lost his sanity at the thought of stretching out beside her, slipping her against and then beneath him, and losing himself in—

“Hey, Brownfield! As I live and breathe. I never thought I’d see you down here among the pretty boys and beach bunnies.”

Cole looked up and grinned, recognizing the smart-ass tone before he saw its owner.

“Hey, yourself, Whaley. I see you’re riding herd today.” His remark was pointedly aimed at Detective Lee Whaley’s two teenage daughters, who were doing their best to attract any or all male eyes their way.

Lee rolled his eyes and grimaced. “I couldn’t have had boys. Hell no. I had to have girls—four to be exact. I’ll never survive their raising. I’ll probably wind up in the stir for murder first.”

Cole laughed. “You love it and you know it. And if you hadn’t been such a hell raiser when you were a kid, you would trust these boys more.”

Lee grinned. He plopped his short, stocky body down beside Cole, patted his head to make sure his well-worn golf hat was still covering his nearly bald head, and picked at a spot on his arm where skin was trying to peel. He kicked a spray of sand on Cole’s feet as a retort. It was then that he saw the curvy little female lying beside and behind him.

“What have we here?” he leered, and elbowed Cole in return for the glare he was receiving. “Been holding out on us, have you?”

Cole glared again. “She’s a houseguest,” he said shortly. “She’s my sister Lily’s friend from Oklahoma. She came to help out with Dad while his leg heals.”

The smirk slid off Lee Whaley’s face. “How is Morgan, anyway? That was a hell of a wreck. He was lucky he wasn’t killed.”

Cole nodded. “Thanks to her,” he tilted his head toward Debbie, unaware that his expression and voice had softened, “he’s doing much better. She’s got him doing his exercises, and has him on a regular schedule of healthy diet and rest. She could charm roses into growing without thorns.”

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