Sam Lonergan had expected to find a ghost at the lake. He hadn't expected a naked woman.
Given a choice, he much preferred this view. He knew he should look away, but he didn't. Instead he focused his gaze on the long, lean woman slicing through the dark, moonlit water.
Even in the pale wash of moonlight her skin glowed tan and smooth. The water she displaced slipped behind her with hardly a splash. Her arms made long strokes through the water, carrying her from one edge of the small lake and back again to the other. A part of him saw her as a trespasser on holy ground — but another part of him was grateful she was here.
While he watched her, he told himself he shouldn't have come. This lake, this ranch, held too many memories. Too many images that crowded his mind and made remembering an exercise in pain.
Abruptly he squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and slowly released it before opening his eyes again. She'd stopped swimming and was now treading water, watching him watch her.
"Seen enough?" she asked.
"Depends," he told her. "You have anything else to show me?"
Her mouth worked as if she were biting down on words she wouldn't allow herself to say.
"Who are you?" she finally demanded, her voice more angry than worried.
"I could ask you the same thing," he pointed out.
"This is private property."
"Sure is," he agreed, hitching one hip higher than the other and folding his arms over his chest. "So I have to wonder what you're doing on it."
"I live here," she replied, swinging a long, wet fall of dark brown hair back from her face.
Water droplets arced around her head and dropped to the lake like raindrops. It took a minute or two, but her words hit home.
"You live here? This is the Lonergan ranch."
A ranch that had been in his family for generations. Since the early days of the gold rush, when Sam's great-great-whatever had decided that the real fortune to be found in California was the land — not rocky cold streams where the occasional nugget was discovered.
That Lonergan had settled here, raising horses and a family. A family that now consisted of one old man, one ghost and three Lonergan cousins: Sam, Cooper and Jake.
His grandfather, Jeremiah Lonergan, had lived alone for the last twenty years. Ever since his wife, Sam's grandmother, had died. Now, if a naked woman was to be believed, he had a roommate.
"That's right," she said, warming to her subject.
"And the owner of this ranch is very protective of me. And vicious."
Sam wanted to laugh. His grandfather was maybe the most gentle-hearted man Sam had ever known. But to hear this woman tell it, Jeremiah was a mad dog.
"Well, he's not here right now, is he?"
"No."
"So since it's just the two of us and we're getting so friendly...mind telling me if you go skinny-dipping often?" he asked instead.
"You spy on naked women often?"
"Whenever I get the chance."
She scowled at him and pushed one hand through her wet hair. She dipped a little lower in the water, and he figured her legs were getting tired of the constant kicking to keep afloat.
"You don't sound ashamed of yourself."
He gave her a lazy smile that didn't go anywhere near his eyes. "Lady, if I didn't watch a naked woman when given the opportunity, that'd be something to be ashamed of."
"Your mother must be so proud."
He chuckled. Probably not, but the old man would have been.
She glanced around her and he knew what she was looking at. Emptiness. Except for the oak trees standing like solitary guardians around the ring of the lake, they were alone. The ranch was a good mile east of here, and the highway ten miles south.
"Look," she said and dipped again, the water lapping at the tops of her breasts. "You've had your peep show, but it's cold and I'm tired. I'd like to get out now."
"Who's stopping you?"
Her eyes went wide and dark. "Hello? I'm not getting out of this water with you watching me."
Something like guilt nibbled at the edges of a conscience that was already too noisy. But he ignored it. Yes, he should look away, but would a starving man turn down a steak just because it was stolen?
"You could turn your back," she said a moment later. One corner of his mouth lifted. "Now, if I do that, how do I know you won't hit me over the head with something?"
"Does it look like I'm carrying a concealed weapon?"
He shrugged. "A man can't be too careful."
She nodded, dipped low enough to have the surface of the water lap at her throat, then muttered, "Perfect. I'm naked and you're the one threatened."
A wind kicked up out of nowhere, rustling the leaves on the oaks until it sounded as if they were surrounded by a whispering crowd. She shivered and dipped even lower in the water, and another ping of guilt echoed inside Sam.
He tipped his head back to look at the star-studded sky before looking at her again. "It's a nice night. Maybe I'll camp out right here."
"You wouldn't."
"No?" Beginning to enjoy himself, he pretended to consider it. "Maybe not. But the question remains. You getting out of the lake or do you know how to sleep while treading water?"
She huffed out a disgusted breath and slapped one hand against the water. "I'm getting out."
"Can't wait."
"You're a real jerk, you know that?"
"That's been said before."
"Color me surprised."
"You're still in the water." He unfolded his arms and stuck both hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "Must be getting pretty cold about now."
"Yeah, but —"
"Told you I'm not going anywhere."
She gave another quick glance around at the dark country surrounding them, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the cavalry riding to her rescue.
"How do I know you won't attack me the minute I get out of the lake?" she asked, eyes narrowed on him.
"I could give you my word," Sam said, "but since you don't know me, that wouldn't be worth much."
She studied him for a long minute and he had the weird sensation that she was looking far more deeply than he would like. But after another long minute she said, "If you give me your word, I'll believe you."
Frowning, he pulled one hand from his pocket and scrubbed the back of his neck. A beautiful, naked trespasser trusted him. Great. "Fine. You have it."
She nodded, but another long minute or two ticked past before she started in toward shore. Something inside him quickened. Anticipation? Excitement? It had been long enough since he'd felt either, he couldn't be sure. But the moment came and went so fast, he couldn't explore it or even take a second to enjoy it.
Moonlight dazzled on her wet golden skin as she walked out of the water and up the short incline to where her clothes were stacked in a neat little pile.
He watched her and felt a hot, pulsing need rush through him with enough force to stagger him.
She was tall and lean, with small, firm breasts, narrow hips and a tan line that told him she didn't usually skinny-dip. He could only be grateful that she'd chosen to tonight. Somehow those tan lines made her nudity that much more exciting. Paler strips of skin against the honey-brown tempted a man to define the edges of those lines.
Desire stirred and heat pooled inside him.
She was magical in the moonlight, and it took everything he had to keep from grabbing her up and pulling her close. It was like watching a mermaid step out of the sea just long enough to tempt a man.
"You are amazing."
She faltered slightly, then lifted her chin and stood tall and proud, no embarrassment, no hesitation. And Sam knew he should feel guilty for staring at her, taking advantage of the situation.
But damned if he could.
In seconds, she'd yanked on a T-shirt and stepped into a soft-looking cotton skirt that swirled around her knees as she bent to pull on first one sandal and then the other.
Hell, he should be thanking her. She'd taken his mind off the past, made facing this lake and the memories again much easier than he'd expected.
"Look," he said as she straightened up, "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time, but seeing you here surprised me and —"
She slugged him in the stomach.
Didn't hurt much, but since he was unprepared, all his air left him in a rush.
"I surprised you?" Maggie Collins grabbed her long brown hair, held the mass off to one side and quickly wrung the excess water from it before flipping it all over her shoulder again.
Amazing. He'd called her amazing.
She could still feel the flush of something warm and delicious as he watched her. It was as if she'd felt his touch, not just his gaze, locked on her. And for just one brief moment she'd wanted him to touch her. To feel his hands sliding over her wet skin.
Which only made her madder. She looked him up and down dismissively, then lifted her chin. "You rotten, self-serving, miserable..." Oh, she hated when she ran out of invectives before she was finished.
Excerpted from Expecting Lonergan's Baby by Maureen Child Copyright © 2006 by Maureen Child. Excerpted by permission.
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