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Stranded

She'd been rescued by Tarzan.

Alex blinked up at her savior, who wore only a strip of brown hide around his narrow hips. Luckily, he had the kind of body that could pull off an outfit like that. Shoulders easily twice the width of hers, biceps the size of coconuts, and a six pack that made her want to purr, It's Miller Time! His legs were long and muscular, giving her the impression he'd easily catch anything dumb enough to run away.

Not that she had any intention whatsoever of going anywhere.

And his face - well, he definitely didn't look anything like the parade of pretty boys Mama assembled for her approval every time she went back home. First, of course, there was the long, blond hair that lay in wet tangles across those quarterback shoulders. Daddy wouldn't have let him in the house with that hair. Yet he was intensely masculine, with a regally Roman nose and broad, high cheekbones. A broad jaw and square chin gave him the look of a heavyweight boxer, though a sensual, well-shaped mouth and smoky gray eyes saved his g face saved from outright brutality. Judging by the hungry heat in his gaze, it was for damn sure he wasn't gay. That wasn't always a given with Mama's dinner guests, whether Virginia Kenyon realized it or not.

The question was, how the hell had she gotten from her bed to the feet of a sex god, with a dunk in the ocean in between? "Who are you?"

"John Hawke. And who are you?"

"Alex. Alex Kenyon."

"Nice to meet you, Alex Kenyon." Reaching out, he cupped her chin in long, strong fingers, tilted her head up, and leaned in close. "Very, very nice."

Even as her inner Southern Belle squealed in offended shock, his mouth closed over hers in a warm, wet slide.

Her heart, just beginning to slow its frantic beat after her brush with death, lunged back into a gallop. Automatically, she started to pull back in surprise, but his callused fingers tightened, holding her in place. His tongue stroked boldly between her lips as he kissed her with a rough, predatory hunger that made her nipples peak. She really should knock him on his backside for his gall, but God, it had been so long. And maybe he deserved a kiss for saving her life.

So Alex closed her eyes and kissed him back.

Then a wet hand boldly cupped her breast. The big opportunist was groping her!

"What are you doing?" She jerked back, outraged. "A kiss is one thing, but saving my life doesn't entitle you to paw me."

Tarzan's luscious mouth curled into a dark smile. "Look around, Dorothy. You're not in Kansas anymore. This is the Goldfish Bowl, and I make my own rules."