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Well, maybe not.
He reached down to the hem of his shirt and grasped the smooth edge. She licked her lips as he brought it up, up, up…
To reveal another shirt.
He smiled.
She growled.
He smiled wider.
The burgundy t-shirt stretched taut across his muscles, yet still seemed a little bulky. She blinked. “Are you wearing multiple shirts?”
As one of the world’s leading actors, he could have easily portrayed nonchalant innocence. He could’ve come upwith some reasonable explanation, something that sounded plausible. He wouldn’t have convinced her, of course, but he could’ve made the effort. He didn’t. “I was worried I’d get a chill.”
She wiped the sweat covering her brow. “Just out of curiosity, would you estimate the temperature at eighty degrees?”
He shrugged. “Probably closer to ninety.”
“I see. And you really thought you’d get cold?”
“Not even a little.”
Cheyenne closed her eyes. So that’s why he’d been so eager to accept her proposal. He’d orchestrated the whole thing. With twenty layers of clothing, he didn’t have a chance of losing.
Which meant she didn’t have a chance of winning.
“How about this? Just to be fair, I’ll take off the rest of my clothing when you lose so we can go swimming together.”
Totally ignoring the chorus of “Hip hip hooray!” her girl parts were currently chanting, Cheyenne fought to appear unaffected. “You do realize this is cheating, don’t you?”
He put a hand to his chest, the look of wounded innocence so comical she snorted. “Me? Cheat? Never.”
Perfect.She could refuse to play, but then she’d still be stuck on the island for the week. She might as well proceed on the slight chance she actually beat him. How many shirts could he be wearing?
“Three,” he suddenly said, and she realized she’d spoken out loud. “Just in case we get a sudden cold front.”
In Florida? This time of year? “Let’s get this over with.”
“That eager to see me naked?”
As a matter of fact, yes.
Cheyenne got lucky and disposed of another of Julian’s shirts without losing a hand. From there, things went seriously downhill. She’d been dealt a terrible hand, without a pair or face card in sight. She exchanged most of them, only slightlyheartened by his grimace. He gave her new cards, but she fared no better.
He noticed her frown. “Not too good, huh?”
“That’s an understatement.” She revealed her cards. “High ten.”
His worried expression transformed into a slow smile. “High Jack.”
“No way.”
He showed her his cards, and she threw hers down. “What bad luck.”
His eyes twinkled. “Depends on your point of view.” The levity disappeared as he turned serious, powerful and completely in command. His voice came as smooth as amber whiskey. “Are you ready to take off your clothes, Destiny?”
It was like the first time he watched her undress, except this time there was no acting and no audience. The intimacy was real, the desire unhidden. Unlike Julian, she was wearing only a single shirt and a single pair of shorts. Of course, she had on undergarments, but again only one set. That left only a pair of socks and sneakers. The choice was obvious. She removed a shoe.