Swept Away Read Online Free PDF

felt so relaxed.
    She thought she’d been dreaming...of pirates. Silly. But the truth was, it had been a rather steamy sort of dream—the pirates had been hot. As best she could recall—although it was sketchy, as dreams so often were—they’d anchored their ship offshore and shown up on the island, looking for plunder. She’d responded with something ridiculous like, “There’s nothing here for you to take but little old me,” and they hadn’t really seemed too upset about that. Even though in real life pirates would be scary, the ethereal qualities surrounding this particular encounter had only added to her feelings of “ah, this is nice.”
    Sighing at the luxury of such dreamy comfort, she let her eyes flutter open. In the distance, she found the calming sight of the sea and its whitecapped waves rolling gently in to break on the shore, the clear blue sky dotted with an occasional cottony cloud—and a man, walking up out of the water, looking hot and wet and sexy as sin.
    She closed her eyes again, quickly, because surely she was still dreaming. There wasn’t really a pirate coming to ravish her. There just wasn’t.
    Not that this guy had looked like a pirate exactly—but if you gave him longer hair and a big sword, maybe. She caught her breath and prepared to open her eyes again, yet she didn’t— couldn’t, actually.
    Because as hot as he was, she didn’t like the notion that maybe she was losing her mind. Right when she’d been so relaxed—and right when she’d needed to be relaxed. She suddenly thought she knew what it must feel like to spot a UFO or Bigfoot.
    Open your eyes, idiot, and see that nothing’s there. Then you can go back to sleep and dream about your pirates again.
    When a drop of water hit her stomach, then her breast, her eyes automatically jerked open.
    And, dear God, there was a guy! And he was hovering over her—blocking the sun so that it shone around his head in a blinding halo—and squinting down at her as if she’d just come walking up out of the ocean.
    “Kitten? Is that you?”
    That voice! She sucked in her breath so hard it hurt. Brock Denton? What the hell? She was dreaming. She had to be.
    She simply stared up at the guy she still couldn’t quite see and tried to make sense of it, of him. He dripped on her again.
    “It is you,” he said, shifting just enough that she could finally make out his face—his still drop- dead gorgeous and definitely all-grown-up-even-more-than-before face, as one side of his mouth quirked in amusement and his gaze fell to her chest. “Very nice, kitten, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have a nasty sunburn.”
    Gasping, she slapped her hands over her bare breasts—yet he’d already turned to trudge past her through the sand as if they’d just bumped into each other on a public beach and he was headed for the snack bar.
    Chapter Two
    W here the hell had he come from? How could this be?
    She bolted upright, then turned to look after him, bewildered. “Wh-where are you going? And what are you doing here? What the hell’s going on?” She’d just woken up in the freaking Twilight Zone.
    He stopped and peered back at her as she struggled to her feet, somehow needing to follow after him, or at least be on the same level with him—and she realized all over again just how
    incredible he was to look at. When they were younger, she’d never seen him with so few clothes on.
    “Answer me,” she demanded. “Where did you come from? What’s happening here?” His reply came crisp and dry. “I could tell you, kitten, but then I’d have to kill you.”
    Keeping her hands over her breasts, she trudged a few steps closer to him in the soft, warm sand. “What are you doing here? Tell me!”
    “I could ask you the same question.” Same arrogant tone as always, proving that some things never changed.
    “My father happens to own this island,” she informed him. “Figures,” he murmured, and it irritated her all the more. “Which