Dalton used both hands to lower himself gently into the water. If the shark was still around, splashing would attract it. The cold water felt great against his hot skin. Like his body was taking a long, cool drink.

He swam to the stern of the speedboat and took a deep breath, then duck-dived under the hull. The salt water burned his eyes, but at least the water was clear enough that he could see where he was going. Sure enough, there was something white wrapped around the propeller. A strip of plastic, luckily not so tangled in the blades he couldn’t loosen it. He surfaced to take a breath, then dived again to unwind the plastic.

“Got it,” he gasped breathlessly, when he surfaced again. He threw the plastic into the speedboat, then floated on his back a moment to catch his breath.

Rosa whooped.

Dalton lifted his head just in time to avoid being swamped by an almighty splash as she leaped into the water next to him. She was underwater for a long time, finally surfacing with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s good,” she exclaimed. Her hair was slicked to her head, so her high cheekbones were accentuated. Half laughing, gasping from the shock of the cold water, she was beautiful enough to stop his heart. Fabric floated up around her neck. She must have jumped in fully clothed.

“Stopped worrying about the shark?” he asked.

“You said it was a reef shark.”

“I said it was probably a reef shark.”

“Good enough for me. Besides, I left the knife where we can grab it if we need to.”

Dalton let out a laugh of surprise. “That’s your plan? You’re going to fight off sharks with a blunt diver’s knife?”

“We bite back, remember?” She dived under the surface and took some long underwater strokes before coming back up. “It’s so refreshing.”

Dalton put on an alarmed look, staring over her shoulder to the water a little way behind her. “Oh no. What’s that?”

“What?” She jerked her head to look.

Keeping his voice soft and menacing, he started the theme song from Jaws. “Dun dum, dun dum, dun dum.”

“Stop!” She splashed him, laughing.

He splashed her back and she splashed harder, turning it into a battle. Only his bigger hands and upper body strength gave him the advantage, and he pushed the equivalent of a tidal wave over her.

“Truce,” she yelled, laughing and sputtering as she inhaled water. “Not fair!” She stroked quickly away from him, a fast overarm, kicking water over him as she went.

Should he go after her? Keep up the game? He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life.

But that was a bad sign. Things were getting dangerous. He liked her far too much.

Instead, he pulled himself back into the speedboat. He put his sunglasses back on and then, though he’d joked about the shark, he scanned the water checking there was no sign of it.

When Rosa got back to the boat, he reached out a hand to help her on board. With one heave she stood close to him, dripping. She was soaked, her T-shirt and shorts clinging to her body. The outline of her bra stood out, and her nipples were hard points. Her white shorts were practically transparent, and her wet legs looked about the length of Africa. Her body was so hot he was surprised she wasn’t steaming. All his blood rushed to one place, and suddenly he was hard as iron.

“I might have just ruined my clothes,” she said, laughing. Then she looked at him and her eyes widened.

He glanced down. There was no hiding the speedboat’s new flagpole. Especially with his wet shorts slicked around it.

Looking up meant running his gaze over her lean, athletic body again. Water dripped from her wet hair, and he followed a droplet all the way down her long neck until it disappeared into her T-shirt. His hands moved of their own accord, sliding around her waist and pulling her against him. His mouth came down on hers, and hers opened for him, her tongue meeting his. There was salt on her lips, and she tasted of sea water and heat. He fisted his hands in her wet hair, twining his fingers through it. Her hands were on his back, pulling at his bare skin. There was an urgency to her movements. A desperation he shared. He couldn’t wait another moment to have her.

He broke their kiss to tug her wet T-shirt up and she lifted her arms to help him. Underneath, her plain white bra was slicked to her skin and her nipples looked determined to fight their way out through the fabric. Magnificent. He sucked them through the cotton and she arched into his mouth.

“Oh God,” her voice was strained. “I know I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t stop.”

“Don’t think about shouldn’t,” he said, though only a few minutes ago, he’d been doing exactly that.

“I can’t think about anything when you…” A moan replaced the rest of her sentence.

Her hands went into his hair, and she gasped as he yanked her bra down to lick and nip at her nipples. The skin on the underside of her breasts was incredibly soft, and still cold from her swim. He let his warm breath gust over her, then lapped at her with his tongue. He wanted to run his cheek over her breasts, to feel that soft skin against the side of his face, but he was unshaven and his jawline too rough. His hands were coarse too, sliced with a thousand tiny nicks, but he couldn’t keep them off her. Not for all the money in the world.

“Dalton.” She said his name so softly, it was to herself more than him. As though all she wanted was to shape her mouth around the word. He liked that. He wanted his name to be all she could say.

Her breasts were warming under his mouth, her nipples hard under his tongue. His hands went to the front of her shorts, and he flicked the buttons undone. The wet fabric dropped. Underneath she wore white cotton panties that were as see-through as her bra. He’d thought he was as hard as it was possible to be, but the sight swelled him to bursting point.

She swayed a little as a wave gently rocked them, and he backed her up so she could sit on the bench seat at the boat’s stern. He bent with one knee on the seat so he could kiss her. Her breasts were too low for his mouth now, so he stroked them with his hands and grazed his lips along her jawline. He loved the contrast of cold skin and her warm breath. He loved the way her mouth fitted with his. The salt from her lips was gone, kissed away. “You’re so damn sexy,” he whispered into her mouth.

“I want you,” she whispered back.

Lowering himself over her, pushing her back onto the bench seat, he slipped his fingers into her panties. She was slick and warm. And when she spread her legs wider for him, she moaned into his mouth. The sound was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

Her fingers went to his shorts, and she struggled with the button. “Can’t get them off,” she panted.

Instead of helping, he drew away, pulling his hand from her panties with a reluctance so strong it was like physical pain. “Hold that thought.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a condom.” Thank God, he’d stashed some in his wallet. He pulled one out and went back to her, kissing her again while he ripped the button of his shorts open. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth. The way she kissed him made him crazy.

“Let me…” She wrapped one hand around his length and held the other out. All coherent thought vanished. He didn’t know what she was holding her hand out for, and didn’t care, as long as the other one stroked him. Oh yeah, like that.

“Give me the condom,” she said, with a laugh in her voice.

The request slowly filtered through the sensation. His brain processed it reluctantly, giving it the lowest possible priority because he was too focused on what she was doing to him. But after several long, slow, wonderful strokes, he managed to press the forgotten condom into her hand.

As she rolled it onto him, even that sensation felt intensely pleasurable. Maybe it was because he’d wanted her so badly for so long, but his senses were acutely heightened. He wasn’t sure anything had ever felt this good.

Her gaze went to his face. She was still holding his sheathed cock, her fingers cupping his balls. “I know this is a bad time to say it.” Her expression was serious and her eyes very green as she squinted against the brightness of the sun. “But I want you to stay at Lantana.”

His muscles tensed. She was so beautiful, she made his heart race, but the small part of his brain that was still capable of thought was sounding the alarm. “We’ve been through this.” His voice came out strained.

“Yes. But this time I’m not asking because of what Tiny wants. I’m asking for me.”

He dragged in a breath, forcing his mouth to form words. Even as they came out, he couldn’t believe he was actually saying them. “Maybe doing this isn’t such a good idea.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” She hooked one leg around the back of his, as though to stop him from getting away.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything. Stopping had been such an empty threat it was laughable. “No more talking.” It came out as a growl.

She lifted her chin. “Then stop saying things.”

He grabbed her panties and yanked them down. When he moved his face close, it wasn’t to kiss her, but to bite at her chin and jaw. She was panting, her eyes dark with desire and her fingers digging into his shoulders. His sheathed cock rubbed against her thigh, and the slightest touch made him want to explode. But he’d make her come first.

He wanted to bend and taste her wetness, but that would mean he wouldn’t see her eyes. Instead he rubbed her with one hand while he thrust his fingers into her.

“Oh. That feels—” Her eyes were half lidded and a darker green than he’d ever seen them. Though he’d put his sunglasses back on after their swim, she hadn’t. He loved the hazy, passion-filled look in her eyes. He wanted to watch her as he drove her over the edge.

“Dalton,” she gasped.

He put his lips over hers, not to kiss her, but to taste her breath as she panted. “Rosa.” He whispered her name, half afraid that saying it too loud would somehow strip his defenses away.

But now she was crying out, and her fingernails dug into his skin. She clenched around his fingers, shuddering with pleasure. He felt the pleasure inside himself, almost as though he were the one experiencing it.

Then he pulled his fingers out and thrust his length inside her.

She gave a loud cry. Her hands went to his ass, and she pulled him in further, grinding herself against him as her orgasm strengthened.

He moved with her, half holding her up as he pushed into her and rubbed against her to increase her sensation. The boat was gently rocking in time to their movements, and the sun was warm on his bare back. She pulled her knees up to get the right angle. She was on the edge of the seat, with her legs wrapped around him, and her fingernails biting into him. Nothing mattered except how amazing she felt. His own release was building fast. His thrusts were hard and desperate. She was small and delicate beneath him and to be inside her turned him on so much he could hardly stand it. Her cries of pleasure seemed to go straight to his balls. Every sound she made increased his arousal.

“Dalton,” she whimpered, shuddering with pleasure as her orgasm swept her away.

He focused on her lips. This time when she said his name, nothing came out, but even the shape of his name on her lips was sexy as hell. If he could pause this moment forever he’d do it. He never wanted her to say anything else but his name, over and over.

And shit. Shouldn’t he be worried about that?