Not a bad time

When the phone rang the next morning, Bella fumbled blindly for the receiver on the table beside the sofa.

She’d argued with Miguel the night before over where she would sleep—on the bed or the couch. But despite his desire to always have his own way, she’d held her ground until he’d finally stomped off to bed. It was a small victory, but when it came to Miguel, her pride needed every stroke it could get.

She heard the sound of the shower running as she picked up the receiver on the third ring.

“Hello?” she mumbled, then buried her head under her pillow to block out the light.

“Who is this?” The question was clipped, the voice distinctly feminine.

Bella started to ask the same, then realized she was in Miguel’s cabin, answering his phone. And the woman at the other end of the phone sounded extremely irritated.

“Ah, this is Valerie Jarrett.” She sat, dragged a hair through her hair. “I’m a friend of Miguel’s.”

“Tell Miguel that Isis is on the phone and I need to speak with him right away.”

Well, she certainly was bossy, Bella thought, and made a rude face at the phone. Somebody certainly needed to teach this woman a few manners.

She glanced at the bathroom door, heard the squeak of the shower faucet as it was turned off. Definitely bad timing.

“I’m afraid he can’t come to the phone right now, Miss Jordan,” Bella said in her most secretary-efficient tone. “But I can take a message, or have him call you back when he’s free.”

There was a muffled oath at the other end of the line. “You tell Miguel Rodriguez that he better call me back immediately or I’ll—’

The phone was suddenly wrenched from her hand. Miguel stood beside her, wearing nothing but a towel around his lean hips.

“Dammit, Ice, I told you I’d call,” he barked into the phone, then softened his voice as he glanced at Bella. “I’ll explain later, but I can’t talk now.”

Bella told herself it was the surprise of Miguel’s sudden appearance that prevented her from tearing her eyes away.

But for goodness sake, where was a girl to look when a man like Miguel was standing two feet away, practically naked?

Certainly not at the floor.

Water still dripped from his hair onto his powerful shoulders, then down his broad chest until it disappeared into the edge of the white towel slung low around his lean hips. His legs were long and muscled, sprinkled with the same dark hair that covered his chest and dropped like a V over his flat stomach.

Her heart lurched, and though propriety dictated she look away, she couldn’t. Besides, she wasn’t shy about the male physique. She had four brothers, and had also spent two years on her high school swim team where Speedos left little to the imagination. She considered herself an expert judge on the configuration of the male anatomy.

And Miguel Rodriguez was one fine configuration.

He spoke briskly into the phone, then hung up and turned to her. “That was Jordan,” he said hesitantly. “One of my…business associates.”

Bella was like .... Did I ask? But when did he have a woman around and why is she calling at Dawn? He even knows his cabin phone number...

“It’s none of my business who she is.” She didn’t dare look anywhere but at his face. She was damn so jealous but she held it back. “I apologize if my being here causes any problems for you.”

“It’s not like that. Jordan is, well, Jordan is just Jordan.” He dragged a hand through his wet hair, then took a step toward her. When her eyes widened at his approach, he glanced down at his attire, or more accurately, lack of attire, and stopped. “Look, Bella, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

But she was. She was thinking plenty. About what relationship he shared with the girl, the clean masculine scent of his body, about the towel draped loosely around his hips, if that towel just happened to slip away…

“Umm, if you’re finished with the bathroom,” she said a little too breathlessly, “could I get in there for a few minutes?”

But she didn’t move.

“Sure.”

He didn’t move, either.

The annoyance that had been in his eyes only a moment before quickly turned to something else. Something deeply erotic and incredibly electric.

They stared at each other; the tension in the air tightened around them. Her entire body responded to his closeness. Her heart pounded, her breathing turned shallow, her skin felt tight.

When he reached out to her, Bella knew she should run, but it was impossible to move. He touched her face, skimmed her cheek with his hand, then brushed his thumb over her lips. With a will of their own, her eyes slowly closed, and she leaned into his touch.

“Is there anything you need?” he asked softly. “For the shower…?”

He moved closer still, so close she could feel the heat of his body…

The phone rang again.

She jumped. On an oath Miguel pulled his hand back and snatched the receiver. Bella took the opportunity to scramble off the couch and head for the bathroom.

“No problem, Ross, it’s fine,” she heard Miguel say tightly. “You didn’t catch me at a bad time.”

She paused at the bathroom door, slowly looked back over her shoulder. Miguel turned at the same time, and their eyes met, held for one long, heart-stopping minute.

Before her knees gave out, befor
e her pride completely disintegrated, she quickly shut the door and locked it.