Page 44 of The Billionaire's Catch

“Fifty-two years.”

He chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? What happens when I get soaking wet? Do I get to remove my clothing?”

Um, yes. Of course. Slowly, please. “Absolutely not. You keep a spare outfit in your car. You can change before the dance. In private,” she added.

He lifted an eyebrow. “And what happens if I get into trouble? If I start to drown, will you save me?”

She glanced between the four-foot tank and the 6’3 man, folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “I suppose so.”

“You have a deal.” He looked strangely pleased, as if he was planning something. He removed his cell phone and sent a quick text. She tried to peek, but the screen was out of sight. He finished and looked back up. “Should I take off my shirt now?”

Um, yes. Of course. Slowly, please. She looked at his chest, licked her lips. Cleared her throat. “Of course not. That would ruin the whole family friendly theme.”

“Too bad,” he rumbled.

“Tell me about it,” she thought. Well, she meant to only think. Instead it bypassed her brain and went straight to her mouth. She didn’t have time for a retraction as a crowd gathered around the game, urging Jason on. He removed his designer boots, and with a good-natured wave, climbed the three steps to the platform. The bench bowed slightly under his weight.

“Who wants to go first?” the game attendant asked. Dozens of arms rose, and Jason feigned horror. He gave a hilariously comical face at the first kid in line, a teen boy who wore the baseball jersey of the competitive local high school team. The kid took a ball, wound up… and hit the target right in its center.

Jason splashed into the tank.

He emerged from the water with droplets coating him like liquid silk. His wet shirt seemed a second skin as it clung to every bulging muscle, completely translucent in the see-through pool. Everyone else laughed and clapped, but Dara could only stare as he effortlessly lifted himself back on the bench, never taking his eyes off her.

He was definitely getting her back for this.

She was even more sure an hour later after Jason had been dunked a dozen times. The kids cheered every time they hit the target, and she smiled the entire time. He made mock faces, feigning silly laughter, eliciting happiness all around. If possible, he garnered even more fans today.

He’d certainly gotten one in her.

Finally, the team manager arrived to tell them time was up. “Thank you all for playing. The dance will start in forty-five minutes, and our brave contestant needs time to dry off and change. Did everyone get a turn?”

Do not say anything. Do not even consider it. Yet suddenly Dara found herself stepping forward. “I haven’t had a turn.”

The manager’s smile widened, and so did everyone else’s, except Jason. He folded his arms across his chest, promising retribution. She may not be a world-famous catcher, but she was athletic. With one perfectly aimed throw, she pounded the bull’s eye.

Once more, Jason fell into the tank. As the people cheered, he emerged from the water, but didn’t immediately climb out as he had before. Instead, he beckoned her over.

Uh-oh.

She shouldn’t go, should stay in the relative safety of the crowd. Still, when he gestured to her again, her legs moved. She took one step after the next until she was just under the tank. He seemed even larger in the small body of water. “Yes?”

His gaze was bold, powerful, challenging. “Aren’t you going to help me out?” he asked softly.

She narrowed her eyes. “Can’t a world famous baseball player climb out of a kiddie pool by himself?”

“Perhaps, but what’s the fun in that?” Water splashed as he moved closer. “You promised to help. Unless you didn’t mean it?”

People were pointing, whispering, speaking behind hands. Without a word, she ascended the three thin stairs. She reached out to him, but he shook his head. “Closer.”

She hesitated, as images of past kisses roiled her. Memories of him kissing her, of her kissing him. Yet nothing could happen in the family friendly environment. As the whispers grew, she moved nearer.

Still, he shook his head. “Closer.”

She scooted to the very edge, putting the tips of her toes near the water. His vibrant blue gaze drew her in, the man who wielded it beckoning her. “Is this close enough?” she whispered.

“Not nearly.” Then he reached out, took her hand and…

Captured her.

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