Page 3 of Paradise Found
It was at the tip of her tongue to ask, but his Hawaiian shirt was terribly distracting. It barely contained a broad chest and sculpted biceps. She wondered if his shorts were similarly insufficient for his large, hard form.
Eyes up, girl. You will not be checking large, hard anything.
Oleanna raised her chin to meet his cobalt blue eyes.
Why was he looking at her like she was a gift-wrapped box under a Christmas tree? A gift he was ready to tear into. The vivid blue of his irises gave way to dark purple hues.
“Welcome to Kamea Koa,” she repeated. “I trust you had a pleasant ride with Uncle Greg?”
He stared wordlessly. Oleanna started to worry.
Was he unwell?
Did he end up at the opposite side of the globe because he lost his mind?
Was traveling to unexpected destinations a consequence of concussions?
“Um, Mr. Talstad?” she prompted, fascinated by his bobbing Adam’s apple.
When he spoke, Oleanna felt his baritone voice rumble through her body.
“Thanks, it was,” he paused and cleared his throat, “it was fine.”
He offered his palm. “I’m Axel.”
No shit, she nearly blurted.
Wait, what?
Oleanna realized, with a mix of irritation and dismay, that Axel didn’t recognize her.
She was part of a crew that had been cleaning his house for the last year. How dare he not recognize her? Was she really that forgettable?
Her hand disappeared inside a strong, calloused warmth. It was a simple handshake, but she watched goosebumps chase up her arm. She remembered that phenomenon the one other time they touched. It turns out, the sensation of tingling skin was an inevitable result of being close to Axel, rather than a coincidence.
Pulling away abruptly, she mumbled, “Oleanna.”
This would be a good time to tell him that they’d met before. Unfortunately, a full conversation with complete sentences would require looking at him. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not right now. Not when the heat scattering from their point of contact flooded her body. She could feel the blush at the edges of her hairline.
Taking a deep breath and turning away, she managed a vague “let me show you around” before entering the cottage.
She meant to lead him into the bedroom where his luggage was moved by Uncle Greg. But having him in the living room stirred her thick, tingly blood. Axel Talstad in even tighter quarters was a terrible idea.
Tight quarters with a bed? Especiallythisbed. Forget about it.
Prior to preparing freshly laid sheets, she had been sleeping on it. When the property wasn’t rented out, the family took turns using the cottage as their shared respite. Oleanna had taken advantage of the vacancy.
Her body clenched in awareness that they would be sleeping on the same bed. Not at the same time, obviously. But still.
She recalled Axel’s king-size bed in his Minneapolis mansion. Whenever she’d changed the bedsheets, Oleanna would find herself dazed by the sheer masculinity of his scent. Musky with a hint of pine and something else, something uniquely his.
Maybe she could simply point to the bedroom instead of going in there with him. Yeah, that was a good plan.
She stalled to shift directions.
He was so close behind her, the movement positioned her sideways from his body. Her right shoulder hit his chest, making her jump and wobble.
Muscular forearms steadied her frame—forearms she’d admired from afar the handful of times Axel was at home when the crew cleaned. She never thought she would find his arm caging her belly. Sunlight hit short blond strands that were so fine, they were fairy dust over his sinewy brawn.
