Breaker's Passion Read Online Free PDF Page A

eyes made Elizabeth’s stomach drop. She held her gaze and Elizabeth couldn’t drag herself away from the blistering black eyes looking back at her. A fine thread seemed to connect her with this stranger.
    When the woman spoke, her voice was as soft and smooth as she looked. A twinkle in her eye told Elizabeth she knew she had been watching her. Instead of feeling embarrassed at being busted over her voyeurism, she felt more like, “Yes, I was looking at you too and I like what I see.” All that and much more was conveyed in that moment before the woman passed. Knowing that she probably would be caught, Elizabeth turned around and watched the woman walk away. She had the same easy strides, the same languid movement as she rounded the corner and disappeared.
    Elizabeth forgot about her drink, picked up her flip-flops, and stood. Walking in the direction the woman had, Elizabeth followed her until she reached the same corner. It was dark, and Elizabeth could see nothing more than an empty parking lot.
    “Get a grip,” she said into the darkness, shaking her head. What the hell would she have done if the woman had been waiting for her? Uncharacteristically she was attracted to her, but what did she intend to do, have stranger vacation sex? Or would she simply be humiliated at being caught? Both those scenarios made her shudder, and she spun around and headed to her villa.
    She slid her card key into the lock for villa 1104. The red light turned green, the latch clicked, and she entered the foyer of her home for the summer. A colleague at another college had offered her the place for an unreasonably low price and she jumped at it. She hadn’t wanted to stay in a hotel but didn’t want to spend a fortune for a private residence. Her colleague assured her their villa would have been vacant the entire summer if she hadn’t agreed to rent it.
    Kicking her shoes off, she set the keys to her rental car and the card key for the door on a narrow table and walked into the living room. It had to be at least forty feet square, with a large plush sofa to her left. Her reflection shot back at her in the gleaming black screen of what had to be at least a sixty-inch flat-screen TV.
    She wasn’t much of a TV watcher except for anything on the Learning Channel, Discovery, or any cooking show. Since she wasn’t a fan of evening sitcoms she had nothing to contribute to the plot lines her students and fellow teachers talked about every day. She couldn’t tell you if Friends had gone into syndication or who the next American Idol would be, let alone who the last one was. She passed a bentwood rocker and made her way toward the large glass doors that led outside.
    The entire wall of the unit was glass, the doors opening onto a patio. A sturdy click of the lock on the doors was the only sound as they slid effortlessly along the track. The hum of the ocean and the crashing waves immediately flooded the room. The unit was on the ground floor, the ocean no farther than twenty yards away, with a wide patio surrounded by waist-high hibiscus. A small opening tucked away in one corner provided access to the beach. Past the patio was nothing but sand and surf. She chuckled. More than likely she had passed her own villa when she was walking down the beach earlier that afternoon.
    The ocean breeze blew the wayward strands that had fallen out of the clip in her hair. She had taken extra care to secure it when she put the top down on the car, but between the convertible and her stroll along the beach, more than a little had escaped. She opened the clasp and set her hair free to fall across her shoulders.
    She stepped onto the patio and stopped just short of the decorative fence. A few people were on the beach in front of her room, but her patio was at a slightly higher elevation than the beach itself. This assured her that sunbathers wouldn’t be on her patio or, worse yet, peeking into her villa.
    Taking another deep breath of fresh air, she closed