Sinner and Saint

Chapter One

"Sorry," I said with a smile, looking up at him. "My girls are time travellers."

His brows knitted in confusion—a state I didn't think he usually found himself in. "What do you mean?"

I grinned. "Assuming that time moves forward, they always precede me into the future. At least until I'm about thirty or have had a couple of kids. Gravity will make them sag and eventually line them up with the rest of my body."

He laughed and it was a thing of beauty.

I wondered who was watching us but I didn't break my gaze away to look. I was too caught up. Besides, based on the continuing cheering and chanting around us, I figured many more half (or fully) naked people came and jumped right behind me.

"I hate to debunk your time travel theory but your arm was in my space before your, uh, girls, were," he said without glancing down in reference.

I sighed. "Trust Stellan Cartwright to choose to be technical. Arms aren't sexy."

This time, he did glance down at my arm which was still linked with his. A pale glow of light glinted off the slick surface of my golden brown skin. "I beg to differ with this particular example."

To my surprise, I laughed. "Fine. Since the view isn't appreciated anyway, I might as well put a towel on."

"I've looked and I haven't seen any nearby," Stellan said, this time his eyes straying to the full mounds still pressed up between us. I couldn't tell his expression behind those glasses.

"They're on the other side of the pool," I replied casually even though I felt all kinds of hot and raw inside. "I'll make my way back and grab one."

"It's approximately forty feet away."

I smiled. "I know how long my pool is."

"I'm trying to point out the distance you'd be walking without a cover on and the fact that the journey there is going to be littered with men who might do more than just appreciate the view."

I raised a brow, not sure if it was just in his nature to be overprotective or if he was just being an alpha male. Knowing what I knew of the man even from a distance, I had to go with the first option.

"They can look since I've made the decision to put them out on display but whoever touches without my permission pays with an arm and a leg," I reassured him. "And I mean it literally."

His mouth quirked in amusement before he backed up a step and tugged his sweater off. "Here. You can put this on if you like."

I held the sweater in my hand, feeling its softness and the body heat it still retained. "It's going to get wet."

"It's too late to worry about that now," he said, gesturing to his jeans that already had some damp spots from when I'd collided with him.

He had a point so I argued no further and slipped the sweater on. It smelled of him—warm and clean with just the faintest hint of spice. I decided I wasn't giving it back.

"Thank you," I said, freeing my wet, wiry curls from the low bun I'd gathered them in. I shook a little bit of the water out and tried to fluff what I could of them. "Okay. Now that my hair's down and the tits have been put away, tell me what I can do for you."

"First of all, happy birthday, Kady Lynn," he said, not the least bothered by my blunt language. Or if he was, he didn't show it.

"It's just Kady unless you're my mother."

He gave me a wry smile. "Definitely not her."

"Good. I'd hate to find myself flirting with my mother."