Trace of Fever - Lori Foster [137]
Sputtering, her hair in her face and her skin chilled from the shock of the cold water, Priss cursed. Trace had already waded toward the shallower water off the side of the dock. His fair hair was flattened to his head and his T-shirt stuck to his body.
“Wait!” Priss shouted at him.
He was still waist-deep as he turned to glare at her.
Kicking and splashing, Priss doggy-paddled over to him, grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Oh, no, you don’t!”
Startled, Trace scooped her bottom in his hands and struggled for balance on the squishy mud bottom of the lake. “What the hell?” And then lower, “You look naked in this damn suit.”
Matt and Chris found that hilarious.
Priss looked at Trace’s handsome face, a face she loved, and she kissed him. Hard.
For only a second, he allowed the sensual assault. He even kissed her back. Then he levered away from her. “You ruined my clothes, damn it.”
“Only because you were being a jealous jerk.”
His expression dark, he glared toward Matt.
Chris started humming, but poor Matt said, “Yeah,” and shrugged. “If you think about it, you’ll agree that you sort of were—and we both know there’s no reason.”
Trace started to wade toward Matt, still with Priss wrapped around him, and she blurted, “I love you, Trace.”
That effectively drew him to a halt. His hands contracted on her backside. “What?”
“I love you.” Then she pointed at Chris, and to where Matt had disappeared. “They told me to fess up, so I am, and if you reject me, I swear I’ll drown them both.”
Very slowly, Trace’s expression changed from the heat of anger to a different type of heat. “Say it again.”
“Why?” She frowned at him with challenge. “Why don’t you say something first?”
“All right.” Sliding his hands up her back, over her shoulders, and into her wet hair, he kissed her. “You make me nuts, Priscilla.” He turned his head and kissed her again, a little longer that time. “You make me hot as hell, too.”
“I love you,” Priss reminded him, hoping it might prompt him to a more telling declaration.
His next kiss lasted long enough to take the chill off the lake, and Priss got so wrapped up in the taste of him that she almost forgot what she wanted to hear.
Chris didn’t. From the dock, he said, “If you’re going to keep her waiting like this, someone needs to finish putting sunscreen on her.”
Trace moved fast, grabbing for Chris’s ankle, but Chris jumped back out of reach.
Priss, feeling very affected by that kiss, nuzzled Trace’s neck and stroked his shoulders. He smelled delicious, felt even better. “Stop being a voyeur, Chris, and go away.”
Having joined Chris on the dock, Matt asked, “Does that mean I can stay?”
Trace lurched forward again, and Matt jumped back so quick he fell on his butt. “I’m going, I’m going!”
To bring Trace’s attention back to her, Priss bit him. Not a hard bite, but she left the impression of her sharp teeth on that sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder.
Trace shuddered. “I love you, too.”
She licked the bite mark. “I’m so glad.”
He hefted her higher and waded over to the rock retaining wall built along the shoreline. He sat Priss down on a smooth slab of rock, looked at her in the bathing suit, and shook his head. “It should be illegal for a woman to look as good as you do.”
“Really?” She peered down at herself again, but saw nothing all that spectacular. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. I love you.” He dug in his pocket. “When I left today, it was for this.”
Speechless, Priss watched as he opened a now-wet jeweler’s box. Inside, securely nestled in velvet, was a beautiful diamond engagement ring. Her heart nearly stopped.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
There were no words. Her eyes suddenly burned and her throat went tight.
Trace took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. The fit was perfect, but then, anything Trace did, he did right.
“Priss?” Using the edge of his fist, he lifted her chin. “We’ve been to movies and plays, to small diners and fancy restaurants. I’ve taken