Page 21 of Hired By the Enemy
“Yes, it was amazing. What about those tiny blue fish?”
“The huge schools of them?”
“I know. I can’t believe thecolors.”
I’m grinning. He’s grinning too, his dark hair damp and starting to curl, his eyes alight with happiness.
“You guys have a good time then?” Henrietta asks as she removes her flippers.
“Ah…yeah.” I blink, suddenly aware of the other people around us as I sit to take off my gear.
Matthew sits next to me and bends over to unfasten his flippers.
His body, which I noticed this morning, lurches up against me as the engine of the boat starts, and I stiffen.
I can’t control my gaze as it follows a droplet of water sliding down his chest to where it connects to his happy trail that leads temptingly below the waistband of his board shorts.
Fuck. What am I doing?
I raise my gaze guiltily, only to find Matthew staring back at me. His gaze flicks to my torso, then back up to my face, and there’s no denying the heat in his eyes. I’m pretty sure there’s something similar in my expression.
Holy shit.
This is Matthew O’Connor. This is the guy I spent most of my childhood and teenage years plotting against.
And, okay, the adult version of Matthew seems like an improved version of the teenager, but deep down, I’m sure he hasn’t changed that much.
I swallow hard, looking out at the smooth blue water the boat is plowing through.
I’m here to do a job.
The fact I find Matthew attractive is completely irrelevant.
Chapter Six
Matthew
Liam and I are quiet as we walk back up the sandy path to the villa.
I’m okay with silence between us. It covers up the mild internal meltdown I’m having.
Because there was something almost…fun about being with Liam when he got to explore a coral reef for the first time.
Liam’s always had this impenetrable cool-guy persona he projects to the world. I saw it constantly when we were growing up, the cocky mask of the popular jock.
But for the first time today, I got a glimpse of what lies beneath.
I saw his initial fear that he tried to cover with snarky comments, which morphed into unbridled enthusiasm once he got comfortable.
And I’m refusing to think about that moment on the boat when I’m fairly confident there’d been a pulse of attraction between us.
“We should probably start getting ready for dinner. You can shower first,” I say stiffly once we’re insidethe villa.
Liam nods and goes to his duffel bag to pick out his clothes for the night. I watch him as he rummages through his bag, momentarily caught up in the way his muscles move under his skin.
Then he disappears into the bathroom, and I wrestle my thoughts under control.
When it’s my turn to shower, it’s difficult not to think about the way his gaze lingered on me, how my skin ignited when he brushed against me.
