Derek watched Pepper stride up the beach, her clothes clinging to her body like a second skin.

But damn, what a second skin it was—

Not a chance, Cashette.

He deliberately turned away and walked back along the beach.

Pepper really was in a prime location.

Crashing waves, fine sand, quiet town. It wasn’t the crystal blue waters and white stretches of the Caribbean—colder water, stronger surf—but it was pretty damn close to heaven.

And he had the feeling that Pepper could use a little more heaven in her life.

He stopped when he reached the path leading to downtown and sank onto the sand. The rough particles were already in his socks, his shoes, streaked up his ankles, so what did it matter? Hell, he could even feel it between his teeth, gritty crystals that crunched as he swallowed.

So he dropped down, toed off his shoes, peeled off his socks, and pondered the enigma that was Pepper.

What were the chances that he’d run into her after all this time?

Pretty good. Considering that her father had all but ordered him to Stoneybrook to scout out locations for the documentary on small town America Derek was producing.

The documentary that Peter O’Brien was funding.

Wind gusted, slapping his wet pant legs against his bare ankles. But that couldn’t compare to the mental smack against his brain.

If there was one thing that Derek avoided, it was drama.

He’d had too much of it in his thirty years. Too many celebrities threatening to sue over the quality of hair extensions or a bad boob job—and that didn’t even account for the women.

Chuckling to himself over his father’s time-honored bad joke, Derek leaned back and stared up at the sky.

Pure cerulean blue. Not a cloud in sight. The sun descending behind him.

The perfect type of late afternoon for the beach. Not scalding hot or miserable. The air was laced with a slight chill that made the sand and its intrinsic heat comforting.

Even though the water was too damned cold for his taste. He grimaced and tried to ignore the stiffness that was settling into his damp jeans.

Pepper O’Brien. Pepper-freaking-O’Brien.

Who’d suddenly become a woman.

If woman could be spelled t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

Oh, she was definitely gorgeous. Slender, legs for days, and an ass that he wanted to grab on to with both hands.

And right on that particular karmic cue, his cell rang with a very distinct tone.

Peter O’Brien.

Derek wouldn’t put it past the man to have read his inappropriate thoughts from three thousand miles away.

Or, maybe more likely, for Pepper’s father to have planted spies around town.

“Hello?” he answered, still staring up at the sky.

“Cashette,” Peter growled. “What’s this about my daughter?”

For a second, Derek was tongue-tied. Had Peter somehow known what he was thinking—?

No. That was ridiculous. He hadn’t stumbled into one of O’Brien Films’ high budget sci-fi flicks. Peter was referring to the car that had nearly plowed his daughter over.

Of course he was.

Which meant that either someone from the crowd had posted something to social media or that Peter really did have spies in town.

All of this crossed Derek’s mind in the span of a second because Peter O’Brien wasn’t the type of man who was kept waiting for an answer.

Everyone danced to his tune. If he said jump, people jumped. If—well, basically all of the clichés were true.

And so Derek shoved all inappropriate thoughts from his mind and related what had happened. If he somehow underestimated his involvement in Pepper’s rescue then it was because he didn’t want the man who was, for all intents and purposes, his boss to think he was trying to weasel his way onto his good side.

Or that he’d been on top—and had enjoyed every inch of her body pressed against his—of the man’s daughter.

Her hips cradling his, her hair like silk on his fingertips. He’d had the insane urge to kiss the freckles dotting her nose as she’d stared up at him, green eyes wide in stunned surprise.

“My people say you saved her.”

The words knocked Pepper’s image right from Derek’s mind.

A slight shake of his head. “It was nothing.”

Peter chuckled. “I think we might have to spring for those permits, after all.”

Derek felt a blip of joy—he couldn’t afford the filming permits on his current budget. But then reality struck. Because he knew what was coming even before Peter tacked on the next sentence.

“Granted that Pepper stays safely out of trouble.”

And this is why he didn’t normally do business with family . . . or old friends who might as well be family anyway.

There were always strings.

Unfortunately, if he wanted to have this movie made—the one that basically all his contacts had refused to take a chance on—then he’d have to eat crow.

“I’ll look out for her, Peter.”

“See that you do. My little girl needs someone to keep her in line.”

The blip of annoyance surprised Derek. It wasn’t Pepper’s fault that the woman had driven onto the sidewalk.

“She’s doing well,” he said. “Trying to get a job and find what she loves.”

Derek couldn’t fault her that, not when he was trying to do the same thing himself.

“Loves.” Peter snorted. “Pepper doesn’t know a thing about an honest day’s work.”

Derek figured that could be true. Pepper had been born not with the proverbial silver spoon, but perhaps a diamond one. Except . . . she’d been out on the sidewalk, sweating in the hot sun without complaint, getting paid what couldn’t have been more than minimum wage.

That had to say something about her work ethic.

Life was funny. Odd, funny. Not ha-ha, funny.

For as long as he’d know the O’Briens, he’d seen Pepper exactly as Peter was describing.

A sweet little puppy that trailed along happily, excited to receive a scratch occasionally or some tiny amount of praise. She was the doll on the shelf, something to take down and play with when they were bored, only to be set aside when anything more important came along.

And lots of important things had come along.

Why was Derek just now realizing how truly shitty that was?

He’d discounted Pepper right alongside the rest of them.

Only now, things had changed.

Perhaps, it was the slice of vulnerability in her eyes, the loneliness in her expression, the way her shoulders had fallen just the tiniest bit before she’d determinedly straightened them again.

She needed rescuing.

Alarm bells blared to life in his mind. His inner hero dusted off his super suit, straightened his mask.

Derek’s cell clicked in his ear, and he lifted it to glance at the screen, never more relieved to see his mother calling him.

“My other line is ringing,” he told Peter. “I’ll keep an eye out for Pepper.”

“See that you do. I’m trusting you to make sure my little girl stays safe.”

Dread settled heavily into his stomach as he hung up.

This project had just gotten a hell of a lot more complicated.