Page 7 of Beneath the Sapphire Sky

He chewed on the stick of grass he’d pulled from beside the blanket.

“Ooof!”

He jerked upright. A bottle of sunscreen lay in his lap, having hit him in the gut. Belle flopped down beside him, her back toward him. She turned her head slightly as she applied some lip balm.

“Put that on for me?”

He loved it when she asked him to do that. It meant he could touch her soft skin without having to make up a reason why.

He pretended to scowl. “Next time don’t peg it at me.”

She laughed and shrugged. “How else do I get your attention when you’re already half asleep?”

If she only knew.

He glanced over her shoulder at the flavour she’d chosen to smear all over her lips today. It was always different.

Strawberry.

That’d taste real nice…

“I can do that, if you like?”

Raph’s voice interrupted their good-natured squabbling.

Dante’s gut tumbled. Annoyance that Raph would offer made him scowl for real.

“Thanks, but Dan’s got it. Maybe next time,” Belle said.

Was she flirting with him? Actually flirting with his brother?

Dante squirted a large blob onto his hand and slapped it to her shoulder, rubbing more vigorously than he had to.

“Hey!” She twisted under his hand.

“Sit still,” he grumbled as he smeared it down her shoulder. “I’m almost done.”

She eyeballed him over her shoulder. “What’s eating you today?”

Not you.

He bit his tongue and shrugged. If only she were.

“Nothing.” He moved to the opposite shoulder and rubbed the milky lotion into her skin more gently. If they’d been alone he could’ve enjoyed this a hell of a lot more.

“Like hell. You’ve been in a mood since I walked through your door.” She lowered her voice. “Is it because Raph’s home?” She turned a little more toward him. “I would’ve thought you’d be happy.”

His hand slipped off her shoulder and his knuckles brushed the edge of her bikini top near her breast. He pretended not to notice as his blood rushed fire through him and his fingers tingled.

“I am.” He bumped her shoulder with his own. “There. You’re done.”

She mumbled a fast “Thanks,” and scooted off the blanket toward the river. It was wide and deep here, a natural curving out of the bend making it perfect for a swimming hole.

He fell flat onto his back and stared at the sky, determined not to torture himself by watching her run around next to naked.

He swore and wiped the remaining sunscreen into his forearms to soak in. Not that he needed it. He was lucky—he’dinherited his Italian father’s tanned skin, so he didn’t burn easily and rarely needed more than a long-sleeved shirt and hat if out in the paddock. Unlike Belle’s distinctly Irish ancestry. She was so pale she crisped seemingly in minutes without it.

What was wrong with him? Belle had been his best friend since kindergarten. This lust nonsense when he was around her had to stop. It was doing his head in and turning him into a complete ogre when with her.

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