Finding Him (Him Series Book 2)

8-Hunter

Hunter

Despite her head start, he easily passed Izabelle and waited for her on the sandbar. Emerging from the water, he laughed and shook his head, enjoying the race more than he should. She was already too reckless and needed no encouragement.

Scanning the water, he spotted the little fish. She was a good swimmer, he'd give her that, but she wasn't strong enough to take a grown man. Hunter waited, admiring her sleek, Olympic-worthy strokes as she effortlessly swam through the water.

She was also a cheater, not even taking a moment to slip out of the dress or cover up whatever women called it, that she was wearing. It was almost like she didn't want to undress around him. He hadn't missed her shy glances when she thought he wasn't looking or the pretty pink blushes that intrigued him.

Who was he kidding? Clearly himself. Every single thing about Izabelle intrigued him, and captured his interest like no one before. Izabelle was a fascinating mix of contradictions—beautiful but guarded, sweet but determined, quirky but interesting. She said the most outlandish things but there was an innocence about her that brought out his protective instincts.

Izabelle was about ten feet from the sandbar when she suddenly went under. His breath froze in his lungs.

Hunter ran, diving into the water and moving with steady, powerful strokes. He'd almost reached her when the little fish burst from the water, her beautiful head tossed back in laughter. He watched stunned. She had the audacity to splash him right before she dived back into the water.

He was relieved. He was furious! Didn't she know how worried he'd be? He took off after her but she easily reached the shore before him, all too pleased with her prank. She was cheered as he sloshed from the water!

Stalking toward her, he scooped her up and lifted her high in his arms. She squealed in protest, half-laughing as he dumped her into the water.

"Hunter!" she cried, popping her head up. "No fair!"

"I thought something happened to you." He scooped her up and tossed her again. "Haven't you heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?"

"Must have been before my time," she replied saucily, eyes sparkling. Watching him, some of the light dimmed from her eyes. He wanted it back.

They spoke at the same time.

"Izabelle—"

"Are you mad?" she asked, trudging from the water, which was no easy feat with that heavy dress.

She stumbled. He reached out and caught her, shocked at the zing that shot up his arm. His answer came out harsher than he intended. "You scared me."

Her lips parted, and she appeared wary. His arm was still around her waist, and her fingers stroked his skin. He wasn't sure she was aware of what she was doing.

"You are mad."

"Furious." His tone contradicted his answer.

Turning, she looked up at him with those dark blue eyes at the same time he dipped his head. Their faces were close. She made a breathy sound and he released her, shaking off the heat that surged within.

They stood there for countless moments. Staring at one another.

He cleared his throat.

Izabelle stiffened and blushed. "I guess I should apologize."

Her eyes flicked to his and his reply came out gruffer than intended. "Yeah, you should. I'm waiting."

She lowered her head, contrite, and he felt like a bully. He frowned, trying to come up with an apology, but she lifted her head and flashed him a cheeky smile.