Meet Me in Hawaii by Georgia Toffolo (best affordable ebook reader TXT) 📗

She cursed under her breath and thought quickly.

She couldn’t enter the current where she was, she’d only get swept away from him, but she needed to get him on her board before he lost his ability to stay afloat.

‘Please, trust me, stay calm, float, I’m going to come and get you…’

She kept shouting back to him, explaining what she was doing, not knowing whether he could hear or if he was even paying attention. People often didn’t when they were in a life-threatening situation. But maintaining that contact was crucial to getting him through this.

She paddled into the current closer to shore and let it take her.

‘Grab on,’ she ordered as she approached, slipping her own body off the board but keeping one arm over it as she helped him take hold. ‘Now grip it.’

She wrapped her arm around his back, which was so broad she had to pull away from the board a little and push her hip into his back to keep him up. ‘We’re just going to go with it for now.’

She spoke close to his ear, certain he’d hear her, even over his ragged breaths, and she wondered how much water he’d taken on, whether he was even lucid enough to stay with her.

Nalu barked from outside the rip current, swimming to keep pace with them; he wasn’t silly enough to join them, like Malie he was waiting for the strength of the current to ease, enough that she could power them both out of it.

If the guy had just done as she’d asked… But then what on earth had he been doing in the first place? Swimming where there was no lifeguard and at this time of day, without the knowledge it took to understand the water.

Foolish, foolish, fool.

And she’d tell him as much just as soon as they had dry land beneath their feet.

She felt the tug of the water start to ease and kicked out, each strike of her legs taking them further into safety.

He was bigger than her, muscular too, and… in a shirt? Who goes swimming in an actual shirt?

‘Thank you,’ he suddenly blurted, his voice rasping as he leaned forward to rake one hand over his face and look to her.

‘You want to thank me,’ she said, looking to the shoreline, ‘you can help swim us back in.’

It was a short, snappy retort, but then, he’d been an absolute idiot and he wasn’t dead, so he could pull his weight.

It worked to get them in quicker and as their feet hit the sand, she slid the board away so that he could crawl up the beach. She walked up behind him, the board hooked under her arm. He turned onto his back, his eyes closed as he laid one hand on his chest, the other by his side. He dragged in a shaky breath, then another.

She dropped her board down and stood over him, aware that she was staring but unable to look away. She was relieved he was OK, angry that he’d been a fool, but now that he was on dry land and not spluttering up half the ocean, she was struck by just how good-looking he was.

Considering that she dealt with ripped surfer dudes day in, day out, some novice in the sea shouldn’t really be touting this much appeal.

‘Hey, you OK?’ she asked.

His lashes fluttered as he gave a choked hum – they were thick, dark, almost feminine, if not for the fact they fanned cheeks that looked like they’d been chiselled from granite.

‘What the hell were you thinking?’

He wet his lips, lips that made her think of kissing. It was an impulsive reaction, it wasn’t rational. She’d just rescued him, for God’s sake. But they were so full, full yet firm, a flush of colour in his otherwise pale and clean-shaven face.

Was it the ordeal that made him so pale, or was it just the light of the moon? Either way, it gave him a sexy vamp-like edge, a total contrast to the tanned Adonises she was used to. Perhaps that was why she found him uniquely appealing. And then his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the move drawing her eye lower… and oh my, would her stomach just quit its fluttering.

He opened his eyes and the fluttering became a full-on typhoon. It was too dark to determine their colour, but his eyes met her own with an intensity that took her breath away. He swept his hair off his face unveiling an angled brow that gave a surety to his features, a confidence that belied his fear of seconds ago.

‘I’m sorry I got you caught up in that.’

His voice rasped and her body positively purred over it. Was that how he always sounded, or was that just the effect of the sea?

He was English too; a Londoner, if she were to guess.

Well, English or not, hot-vamp or not, you should be rollicking him, not standing here drooling like a sex-starved nymph.

Where’s your good sense, Malie?

Back out in the sea, it would appear…

Could this day get any worse?

When Todd Masters pulled himself up the beach on his hands and knees, thanks to his jelly-like legs that had refused to support his weight, he’d hoped he could feign passing out and she would just leave him to it. Let him regather his wits and his pride alone. If only…

Someone up there was clearly having a laugh at his expense today. First his father had refused to accept his help which had resulted in a phone call from hell, and then he’d tried to save a dog from drowning only to find himself the one in need – in need? He was never the one in need.

And now his rescuer was mad, real mad, judging by her silhouette that showed her hands were fisted on her hips.

‘Never mind sorry,’ she erupted – definitely mad. ‘You could have got yourself killed.’

He let his head loll back, his eyes closed again, like