Chapter Eleven
Ian
Ian had a bad feeling about the beach, and his premonitions were justified. As soon as their feet hit sand, Daniela’s yellow summer dress flew off, leaving her in nothing but an indecent bikini that turned an alarming number of male heads.
Ian looked at the blue water of Guanabara Bay instead, at the hulking shape of Sugarloaf Mountain in the distance. But then he stole another glance.
Okay, fine, the scraps of golden fabric she wore actually covered more than what most women had on around here, the bottom not a thong—thank God, or they would have had to take him out in an ambulance. The top too covered…everything.
Yet somehow, Daniela still managed to draw every eye within a square mile. Or at least that was how it felt to Ian.
He dropped to the sand. Burned his ass. Welcomed the distraction.
“Aren’t you coming into the water?” She came to stand right in front of him.
He looked at her small feet. Did not raise his gaze above the ankles. “I didn’t bring my swim trunks.”
He wore cargo shorts and a T-shirt, as undressed as he planned on getting.
The small tanned feet turned. She ran away from him into the waves and laughed in delight as the warm ocean hit her.
Now that she was far away, it was safe to look.
She was something in the water, always had been. Water was her element. All her insecurities melted off her there. In the waves, she was still and forever a river goddess.
She frolicked. Carefree like this, she was more beautiful than ever. Ian couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Neither could any other man.
A blond surfer yuppie made his way over to her to chat, trying to talk her onto his surfboard from the looks of it. The guy was tall, withsomemuscle, and bronzed skin.
Without a single glance back at Ian, Daniela headed farther into the waves with him.
NowIan wished he’d brought swim shorts. Because the little bastard was putting his hands on her. Maybe the help was necessary to get her on the board, maybe it wasn’t. Christ, the guy knew her for what, half a minute?
Is this how pickups work now?“Hey, wanna ride my board?”
Ian felt about a hundred years old all of a sudden, and pissed enough to want to drown surfer dude in toilet water.
He wanted to go back to the hotel, but no way in hell would he leave Daniela alone with the guy. And if noodle dick put his hand on her one more time, Ian swore to God…
She laughed, the water carrying the sweet sound straight to Ian.
He closed his eyes. Drew a deep breath.
The guy with her looked to be in his early twenties. Daniela needed this, to be around boys her age. Back when she’d been in college, Ian had hoped she might bring home a boyfriend eventually, but she never had. He’d been prepared to becompletelyopen-minded.
She was twenty-two now. She deserved romance in her life, someone who adored her, treated her the way she deserved to be treated. And Ian wasnotto get in the way when that young man showed up. But no way was it going to be this surfer dude.No way.
This one grinned like an idiot.
Daniela was way more mature. She could do better than this one. Hell, ten times better would still not be good enough for her.
She’d been sharp as a whip today at both interviews, asked all the right questions, paid attention, took notes. The op was going to go a lot easier because of her presence. Under different circumstances, Ian wouldn’t have minded being partnered with her permanently. They complemented each other.
He was more the silent type, better at action then interaction. She was all smiles and able to pop out one question after the other. People responded to her youthful eagerness.
He watched her play in the waves, happy. Idiot boy’s hand on her lower back now,dammit. Ian glared. Once she was back in the room with him, they were going to have a talk about touchy-feely little bastards.