Page 50 of Date with a Devil
But she wasn’t sure why he’d wanted to show it to her. Did he think she’d swoon over his material possessions and spread her legs? Obviously, he was rich. One look at the athlete in his true blue suit was all you needed to know that. It was tailored to show off all his best features—the broad shoulders, the narrow waist, the muscular thighs. She was sure that suitalonecost thousands more than she could afford.
Next to him, she felt like a schlubby college girl in her giant sweater and leggings. Even if fate had somehow brought them together for a brief moment in time, it was never more obvious that they wereworldsapart. Two completely different people.
Glass of wine in hand, Austen walked to the fire pit and reclined in one of the lounge chairs.
Dane neared, but he didn’t sit. Instead, he emptied the wine bottle into both their glasses. Then he kicked off his shoes and shed his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly to the cobblestone.
“What are you doing?” Austen asked, even though she knew the answer.
“Enjoying my pool while I still can.”
She took a bigger gulp of wine and watched as he yanked at the buttons of his dress shirt until they burst free. He peeled the white undershirt off of his chiseled, V-shaped torso.
“You know,” she began, discretely running her eyes over his rippled abs, “it feels like every time I see you, you’re either half-naked or getting naked.”
Her insides clenched the second his trousers hit the floor. His thighs were sculpted from thick, mouthwatering hunks of muscle.
Wow.
Wearing only boxer briefs and a gold chain around his neck, DeHardt walked to the edge of the pool and dove headfirst into the water. Submerged, the athlete swam from one end of the pool to the other and then back again. He moved in the water like he moved on the ice—like a shark, with an intoxicating combination of power and grace.
He finally surfaced for air. Water streamed down his sizzling chest.
“Jump in. Water’s great,” he yelled to her, slicking his hair back.
“I don’t think so. But nice try.” She wasn’t going anywhere near the pool—she could just imagine him lunging at her feet and pulling her in. “Besides, I hate the smell of chlorine.”
“Me too,” he said. “That’s why I got a salt pool. C’mon, jump in.”
“Dane … I don’t want to.”
With his bottom half still in the water, he rested his muscular arms on the edge of the pool. “At least take your shoes off and dip your toes in. I’m telling you, you’ll love it.”
“God, you’re persistent. You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll only do it if you promise me you won’t throw me in.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Better not be lying.” With a sigh, she stood from her chair. She took off her flats, hiked her leggings up to her knees, and sat by him at the edge of the pool. She cautiously touched the tips of her toes to the surface of the water, expecting a harsh cold to greet her. But the water greeted her like a warm kiss—warmer than the air outside, in fact—and she eagerly lowered her legs into the bright blue water until her knees were submerged.
“Whoa. You were right—the waterisgreat. It’s so warm.”
“It’s heated,” he said.
“Of course it is,” she answered.
He cocked his head. “What’s that mean?”
“You have really nice things. That’s all.”
He blinked at her. “So why do you sound disappointed when you say that?”
She could see it in his face—he was stumped.
“You’re probably used to girls shrieking with joy and tearing their clothes off once they see your pool, aren’t you?”
