A Touch of Summer Read Online Free PDF Page A

Frenchman and an American in rapid succession. He must be half bat, with his ability to detect where the attacker was coming from. Then it was Flynn’s turn.
    He had watched the other contestants earlier and decided the best strategy was not to rush in. Instead, he glided along, his boots making no sound on the short grass, and his breathing as slow as possible. There was nothing he could do about the sound of his heart thumping, but he trusted the sound of the circle of spectators would drown that out.
    Fletcher swung his bag as if it were weightless, his head turning as he sought for some trace of his attacker. Flynn crept closer, concentrating on Fletcher, not the helmet that was his goal. Now he was within range of that lethal bag, and ducked under an arc that would bash his head in. One more step and he’d have the helmet. The spectators went quiet as they saw how close he was to victory.
    'Of course, I’d be delighted to show you around the island.' Col Hall’s voice rang out in the silence. Flynn turned his head and saw him leaning over Summer, and Summer smiling back up at him.
    'OW!' The moment of distraction had cost him. Fletcher had somehow heard him, and the bag of chains walloped him in the ribs. He fell backwards, hissing in pain, amid the cheers and catcalls of the onlookers. SAS one, Rangers nil.
    Fuck!
     
     
    There was no doubt about it – Flynn was furious that he had lost and somehow it was her fault. He hadn’t been concentrating. Why on earth had he been watching her and Col. Hall instead of Fletcher? Summer winced as he stormed off the field, waving off the ribald jeers of the SAS team.
    Summer followed, only to find Niall was blocking her path. 'It might be better if you leave him alone for a while to cool off. Flynn hates to lose.'
    'But he’s hurt…'
    'It’s just a few cuts and bruises. He’ll be fine.'
    Summer stared after Flynn as he pushed his way through the spectators.
    'There’s nothing as shabby as bad loser. Looks like your Wing won’t be taking first after all, if that’s the best you’ve got,' Hall said.
    Niall bristled. 'At least we play fair. And we’ll still win.'
    Col. Hall scowled. 'We’ll see.' He turned his attention to Summer. 'If you’re tired of watching a bunch of brutes fighting, perhaps you’d like a little tour of the island?'
    'She’s busy,' Niall said brusquely, grabbing her arm. 'Playing nurse mightn’t be a bad idea after all.'
    Summer stumbled along beside him. There were undercurrents here she didn’t understand. 'Do you want to tell me what’s going on?'
    'In a minute.'
    They hurried along the road until they reached the supplies tent where Niall collected a small first aid kit before turning to her. 'A word of advice, stay away from Hall. Don’t make Flynn’s job any harder than it is.' He took a deep breath. 'Flynn and Hall have some bad history between them. The last thing he needs to deal with is you hanging out of that weasel.'
    'I was not—'
    Niall thrust the medical kit at her. 'Go patch him up and try to stay out of trouble.'
    Summer turned away. It wasn’t her fault that Col. Hall – Darren – but she hadn’t meant to get Flynn hurt. She made her way back to their tent. Outside, a bare-chested Flynn was leaning against one of the old garden walls while he cleaned himself with a damp cloth. There was a massive bruise forming on his ribs and smaller ones on his face and arms.
    He gave her a narrow-eyed stare as she approached. It was hard to believe that it was the same man who had kissed her so passionately the night before.
    'I’ve brought you this.' She waved the kit at him.
    Flynn scowled. 'I’m fine. It’s only a few bruises.'
    'It’s more than that.' It wasn’t her fault he had been injured. No one could expect her not to flirt occasionally, and if Flynn didn’t like it, well, tough. He had brought her here and deserved whatever happened as a result. But she did feel a flicker of guilt that he had hurt. Those bruises