Holy mother of God.
She was gorgeous.
His gaze tried to take in all that pure white flesh and the way the cream camisole skimmed over her body as if it were a wrapped treat, every lush curve emphasized. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her. His mouth ached to press against her pink lips. His body craved to know hers like a song he wanted to learn from beginning to end and never stop singing.
But she gave him no chance. With a wink, she pivoted on her bare heel and ran straight for the water. Then launched herself through the air in a perfect jump, sinking below the surface.
Holy shit. The woman had just taken off her clothes in front of him and dove into the water. His Southern magnolia was really a hothouse rose, and he loved every fucking moment.
Cal took off and did a cannonball, spraying water everywhere. Her laughter was witchlike, echoing in the wind like a siren call. With economical strokes, she swam around him, finally flipping onto her back to float, her silvery hair spread around her, palms open to the sky like a sacrifice to the moon gods. He watched her in the beautiful silence that spilled over the lake, and something odd shifted within.
“Cal?”
Did she feel it, too? Something shifting? “Yeah?”
“I think I want to add another level for the film room.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
She never changed her posture, just floated past him like a goddess. “I know Brady said a smaller balcony is fine, but the Rosenthals will probably screen their movie and will want more room. If we do a double-tier balcony, it will look better.”
Cal tried desperately to get his mind on business. “Brady is right: it will throw off the aesthetics. What about two smaller side balconies, almost like luxury boxes? They may like that.”
“Yes. I could do it in red velvet like the old theaters. Set up an old-fashioned popcorn maker and candy machine. We can make it work?”
“Yeah, I’ll make it work.” She threw him off balance. Was he the only one with a raging desire to steal a kiss while they skinny-dipped in the moonlight? “You surprised me.”
Morgan didn’t move, just bobbed gently in the water. “So did you.”
“How?”
“You managed a decent cannonball.”
He laughed. She was so different from any woman he’d ever met, consistently throwing him off guard. “I like a woman who takes a dare.”
“Bet you do. Were you able to trick your brothers into doing ridiculous things by double-daring them?”
“The triple dog dare usually did its trick. But Dalton was always the one to fall for it. Tristan got me back by pretending to be above my crap, then he’d wait for his time and cut me off at the knees. He’s the more ruthless one.”
“And Dalton is the creative genius?”
“Yep, takes after his grandfather. Called him the Wood Whisperer.”
“And you? What’s your title in this crew?”
He swam and watched her and thought. Families were built on expectations and profiling because it was easier. Even the order of birth told a lot about a person. Sure, he was the oldest and the one to shoulder the most responsibility. He was the leader.
Or was he? Was it just easier to do what he wanted without question or apology? Had he ever truly wanted to compromise and change Pierce Brothers into what his brothers wanted? Or deep inside, did he agree with his father and just didn’t want to admit it?
“The grumpy one.”
Her giggle charmed him. Cal swam closer. Her nipples were hard and strained against the damp lace in an effort to escape. The wet camisole outlined every flow and curve of her body, making him burn. He tried to concentrate on their conversation. “What about you? If you had to place a tag on yourself, what would it be?”
It was a while before she answered. Her voice was a whisper of sound. “A fighter.”
Cal didn’t have time for questions. She flipped over and swam to the edge, easily hitting the deck with both feet and walking back to her neat pile of clothes. He watched her get dressed from a distance and finally joined her on land. He quickly donned his clothes and they stood facing each other.
“Thanks for the swim,” she said politely. “We’d better get back.” She tucked her wet hair behind her ears. Her makeup was smudged. The scent of lemon and fresh daisies rose to his nostrils. Her skin looked dewy and soft. A roaring began in his head and moved lower, wiping out his rational thoughts. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know why, but if he didn’t kiss Morgan Raines tonight, he might regret it for the rest of his life.
“You’re welcome. I didn’t like you at first.”
A smile touched her lips. She tugged at the hem of her shirt. “That’s okay. I didn’t like you, either.” Morgan paused. “I’m still waiting to make up my mind.”
He closed the distance between them. Was that his heart beating? Stupid. Of course not. He was a grown man, and he didn’t get those feelings anymore. She tilted her head back, and he saw the slight tremble of her lips as she gazed back at him, refusing to look away.
“I like you now.”
She cleared her throat. The pulse at the base of her neck and the dilation of her pupils gave her away. She felt it, too. His nostrils flared like a predator’s on the hunt, but he moved slow, bending his head so his mouth was inches from hers, so he could feel the warm rush of her breath against him. So she had plenty of time to pull away and cry foul. Still, she rallied.
She spoke his name on a ragged whisper. “What are you doing, Cal?”
“I’m sorry.”