He
stood up. “I think I’ll go for a swim. Care to join me?”

“What?”

“A
swim. It’s been centuries since I’ve been in the ocean.”

“Centuries,
huh? Well, I’m sorry, but no. We need to work, Andrus. I have less than a week
to get you ready, or I don’t get paid.”

“You
should’ve negotiated for a better deal.” He kicked off his boots and stripped
off his shirt.

Holy
mother of God.

As
her eyes scaled up his abs, the deep grooves of his washboard stomach flexing
with fiercely seductive power, she found herself mesmerized. The light olive
skin of his bare arms and chest and…Oh my God. This guy is built like an evil
sexy tank. And whether she liked it or not, her female libido reacted—nipple
tingles, core flutters, the whole nine yards. Or ten inches, in his case.

Andrus
caught her blatantly drooling and then winked. “You’re welcome.” He dipped his
head of thick, messy dark hair, turned, and slowly made his way toward the
water.

Sadie
watched along with every other woman within eyeshot. They all stopped whatever
they were doing—volleyball, applying suntan oil, kissing their boyfriends, or
avoiding trees while they were rollerblading—Watch out! Oh, that had to hurt.
Even the men stopped to fume in Andrus’s general direction, seething with a
territorial-type jealousy as he practically floated over the sand, his
naturally tanned muscles flexing and pumping in a hypnotic rhythm as he
strolled toward the waves.

He
looked like a fucking god. Tall, lean, menacing ropes of—

He
jumped head first into a wave, startling Sadie from her little sexually
charged, mental detour.