“Zander.” He extends his hand to me and we shake. His eyes freely skate down my left side and seem to come to a stop at the wedding ring on my hand. Something flickers there in his sapphire eyes for a moment, but whatever it is, it’s gone after only a few seconds.
We shake politely and I allow it. It’s a lot nicer than ignoring him and walking off like I had considered. Truthfully, at the moment, I don’t think I can walk off from this enigma of a man even if I wanted to. Embarrassment unmatched be damned. I’m glued in place, cemented before him in dripping clothes that do nothing to shield my secret places from his gaze. Anyone else would have the common sense to retreat. Yet here I am. I’m a living breathing contradiction. I’m a willing captive, open to his scrutiny, held only by the bonds that those deep blue eyes seem to wrap me up in. They’re invisible to the naked eye but they feel ironclad, tangling around every cell of my body and mind. In spite of myself, there’s something about him that makes me want to be in his presence. His appearance is likely to thank for that. Male perfection. I hate myself for even noticing it. I hate me even more for wanting some part of that perfection. The sensation deep within my stomach is so long forgotten that it nearly feels like the first time I’ve ever experienced butterflies in the presence of a man. Scary. Foreign. Disarming. Deliciously addictive.
“Sadie,” he says my name like it’s a statement and one of his eyes squints a little, then corrects itself. “It’s a little early in the season for me to shoo people away from this beach. Visiting?” His hand squeezes once again around my freezing fingers then releases me. Almost immediately, a little zing of disappointment dominates my pheromone-drenched brain.
“Not exactly. I’m here to meet someone.” My arms wrap around me instinctively, shielding myself from the sea breeze that only makes me shiver more than I already am.
“Who?” Zander’s pebbled nipples press against his wet shirt and prove to be an intense distraction.
My eyes involuntarily admire his broad chest, pebbled nipples, and tightly muscled torso. I’m embarrassed to find it so hard to concentrate with him like this in front of me. His muscles flex a little as his body twists at the waist, looking around us in every direction. What he’s looking for is a mystery to me.
“Alexander McBride is his name,” I offer absentmindedly, still taking him in.
He hesitates for a moment. The loudest moment of silence settles between us, causing my nerves to build. I drag my eyes to meet his.
“Nice to meet you,” he says.
Just like that, realization crashes into me like a goddamned brick wall.
“What? Wait. You’re Alexander?” My voice sounds foreign and screechy even to my own ears. If hiding my disbelief was what I wanted, I failed miserably at that task.
“I go by Zander, but yes.” His lips tilt up in a small grin.
I shrink in place, right where I stand. Unbelievable.
Fuck my life.
“Oh.” My eyes automatically hone in on his chest again, but for a vastly different reason than his gorgeous form. Beneath the wet fabric of his shirt, I can see a faint line extending down his chest, which I presume is his scar. I don’t want to see it. I can’t believe I’m standing here so close to Jake’s heart. I’m struck dumb, just staring. My fingers flex around myself, digging into my ribs on either side of me. I glance up to his blue eyes again and search for something. What? I don’t know, but I search anyway.
“Come on. That’s my house just there. You need to dry off and get warm.” Alexander—Zander extends his hand to me, but I don’t take it.
“No. No thank you. I’m just—”
“No, really, let me get you a towel or something.” His dark blue eyes rake over my dripping wet body, making me fully aware of how I must look.
I glance down the beach then to the house he indicated was his. It’s the same place I assumed was a rental or something. I got the or something part right. It’s the throne belonging to this god of a man in front of me.
“No really. I’m fine,” I insist far too weakly to come across as convincing. The sea breeze is so much colder with my body completely soaked. My chin quivers and Zander’s eyes turn stern.
“You need a towel.” The way he says it is like an order rather an offer and it has me ready to give in, remembering how Jake would take that tone with me sometimes. I miss it.
“Okay,” I relent on a mumble.
“Okay.” Zander’s fingers reach forward, curling around my elbow, and pull me until I begin to follow him compliantly. He turns fully towards the big white beach house and starts walking. He releases me after a moment and takes a couple longer strides, positioning himself in the lead. He doesn’t say another word. Nothing. He doesn’t even turn to look at me once the entire walk to his mammoth beachfront home. I feel myself wither a little and privately bemoan the loss of his intense stare.