Siren's Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page B

people were beginning to wander through on their way to breakfast. Though small, the hotel offered a continental breakfast, complete with a smiling attendant who poured the coffee and helped patrons navigate the complexities of the waffle machine.
    Considering the fact he was about to make a trip across the water, Blake had skipped eating. For one thing, he considered it an abomination to get up early and immediately begin shoveling down a meal. For the second thing, he hated boats almost as much as he did the water. During the few times he’d had the displeasure of riding in one, he’d never failed to get sick. The last thing he wanted to do was puke his guts up in front of Gwen Lonike.
    It wouldn’t look professional.
    So even though he was dying for a cup or two of strong hot black coffee, he’d forgo the pleasure until after he’d returned to the mainland. He planned to grab a cup at some fast-food joint.
    On my way out of this hellhole, came his dark thought.
    “Port Rock,” he mumbled under his breath. “Born here, raised here. Won’t look back when I leave here.”
    He checked his watch again: 7:05. His tour guide was one late lady.
    Blake glanced toward the front desk. A thin woman with frizzy blond hair and splotchy red skin was busy with customers. The elusive Gwen had vanished. She hadn’t been behind the desk when he’d come down from his room, ten minutes before the hour she’d agreed to meet him.
    He was just about to amble over and bother the clerk when the door to the manager’s office opened.
    Purse slung over one shoulder, Gwen Lonike hurried out to join him. She carried a large travel-capped coffee mug. “Sorry,” she said, blurting out her apology. “I needed a minute to wash my face and comb my hair.” She flicked a damp strand away with a distracted hand. “I’m ready when you are.”
    Trying not to stare, Blake gave her a quick once-over. Though her clothes were the same as she’d worn last night, she looked fresh and crisp. A fitted white blouse hugged her breasts and narrow waist. Black slacks accentuated her long, sleekly muscled legs. Lustrous red hair cut in a modern shoulder-brushing shag framed her pert face. She wore no cosmetics. Didn’t need them, either. Nature had given her thick black lashes and full red lips, along with a smattering of cute freckles across her upturned nose. All together she looked absolutely adorable. Her only accessory was a small crystal pendant, which hung from a delicate gold chain around her neck.
    A two-ton anvil could have landed on his head and he wouldn’t have noticed. Last night he’d been too tired and distracted to give her a second glance. Now he was looking closer, and he liked what he saw.
    His inner temperature rising, Blake felt a shiver clamor up his spine. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His skin suddenly felt hot and too taut to stretch over his bones. There was a definite reaction going on, one he hadn’t felt in a long time.
    Wow. Just wow.
    He caught a whiff of the light scent she’d recently spritzed her clothing with to freshen it. The smell of crisp fresh pears almost made his mouth water. Desire sped through his brain. Though he usually didn’t get too worked up over a nice-looking female, there was something about this one that definitely set his male antennae to humming. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but Gwen seemed different from other women.
    Special .
    It was an impression that didn’t occur to him very often when a woman was concerned. But now that it had, he was finding it difficult to shake the notion.
    Blake gave himself another minute to savor the attraction, then firmly put a mental foot on it and tamped it down. He wasn’t here to make friends or flirt. He was a federal agent, investigating this woman’s sister and brother-in-law. He’d have to forego her appeal and keep things impersonal. All he wanted were the facts.
    Cold, hard, plain, simple facts.
    Blake reached