Oh, what the hell, he thought, and peeled off his clothes and settled in next to her.

16

Her cheek was pressed up against a warm, hard, hairy chest. It seemed to go with a warm, hard, hairy body. How nice, she thought sleepily. I don’t think I ever want to wake up from this dream. If she did, the warmth of the body next to her would disappear. It was so real, so delicious. She oozed with longing.

A large hand slipped inside her nightgown and gently stroked the warm flesh of her breasts. Her nipple hardened inside his palm.

His palm?

Whose palm?

Suddenly her head hurt and she sat bolt upright. “Bastard! What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

Jeremy gave her an unrepentant grin as his eyes roved over her. Her gown was open to her navel, her breasts soft and unconfined. His eyes flashed with amusement. “Just responding to your advances.”

“I was asleep!”

She tore out of bed and landed firmly. God, her head hurt! Then it all flooded back to her. David, Barky, Stevens. The jewels. She turned to Jeremy. He’d propped himself up on one elbow. He had good muscle definition in his shoulders. She demanded, “Would you care to explain your presence in my bed?”

He shrugged. “I checked on you before I turned in. You invited me to stay.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mystery heiress, dolphin rescuer and prude.” He laughed. “Your profile indicated you were particular about men. High standards—or cowardice?”

“You doesn’t know a thing about my relationship with men, and neither do you. I don’t discuss such things with strangers.”

He rolled out of bed, and she bit her lip. He was wearing only a pair of stretch bikini underpants. They were dark blue. Good muscle definition in his thighs, too. Lord, she muttered to herself.

“You shouldn’t have standards when it comes to falling in love,” he told her matter-of-factly. “You should just do it.”

“And risk getting burned?”

He smiled at her. “And risk everything.”

“I’m going to feed the animals. At least the crap they give me is real.”

She grabbed some clothes and stalked out to the sounds of Jeremy Carruthers’s laughter.

Jeremy pulled his clothes back on and went downstairs, where the kitchen was chilly and quiet. It was just eight o’clock. He started a fire in the cook stove, not as deftly as the Wakefield twins, but it lit. It would be just five in San Diego. His father would still be asleep. But Ashley was up at the barn and Jeremy didn’t know when he’d get another opportunity to make the call—cretin that he was. He didn’t enjoy deceiving Ashley. But had she been forthright with him? Hardly.

He dialed the La Jolla number of his parents’ house.

Allan Carruthers answered, yawning. “Jeremy? Where the hell are you? What’s wrong—”

“Everything’s fine; I’m in Massachusetts.”

“Mac?”

“I haven’t heard from him.”

A short silence. “Neither have I.”

Jeremy heard his mother waking up and demanding to know who was on the phone. Jeremy said, “I’m pressed for time. Dad, if Mac calls, tell him I blew it.”