Whitelaw's Wedding. BEVERLY BARTON
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her breasts, which were covered only by two triangles of shiny red material.
Hunter grunted and slid his shades back into place.
What was the matter with him? Manda wondered. Couldn’t he see that she was a gorgeous young woman? Everybody said so. All the guys her age drooled over her.
“Where’s Perry?” she asked.
“He went to pick up some beer for us,” Hunter replied, but didn’t glance her way.
“Mind if I join you?”
He shrugged. “This is your house, your patio and your pool.”
“So it is.”
Doing her best to act alluring, Manda lay down on the chaise next to Hunter’s and turned her head so that she faced him. She reached out, picked up the bottle of suntan lotion on the small table between them and flipped open the lid. After pouring a quarter-size amount of the white cream into the palm of her hand, she applied it to her arms, then repeated the process on her legs. She’d seen this seduction scene in a movie, so she figured it was worth a try.
“Do you mind doing my back?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“My back. Would you put some lotion on it for me? I can’t reach my back and with this fair skin of mine, I burn easily.”
Hunter barely suppressed the chuckle rising in his throat. Manda, Manda. What was he going to do with her? Perry had told him a couple of years ago that his little sister had a mad crush on her big brother’s best friend. At the time, he’d thought it was cute and rather endearing. But for the past few days, while he’d been home on leave, Manda had been driving him crazy. She had done everything but strip off naked to gain his attention. And from the looks of that skimpy bikini she was wearing, she must have decided to use that tactic, as well. If Mrs. Munroe saw Manda in that scanty swimsuit, she would ground her granddaughter until she was thirty.
He had to admit that if he didn’t know Manda was only sixteen—and if she weren’t his buddy Perry’s baby sister—he’d be tempted. Manda was just too damn pretty for her own good. Pretty? Hell, she was beautiful. And she knew it.
The girl was too pretty, too rich, too smart and too spoiled. He pitied the poor guy who wound up marrying her someday. She was growing up to be a high-maintenance lady.
“Sure, I’ll do your back,” Hunter said and took the bottle from her. “Turn around.”
She obeyed instantly, but then she did the unexpected. She unhooked her bikini top, jerked it off and laid it on the chaise. Hunter hadn’t been prepared for that particular move, but he supposed he should have been, considering the way Manda had been chasing him these past few days.
“That’ll make it easier,” she said.
Easier for what? Damn, this kid didn’t know she was playing with fire. His guess was that she didn’t understand how easily a guy could become sexually aroused. If she pulled this kind of stunt with another guy, she might get more than she bargained for. “Manda, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“A lady doesn’t strip off her clothes that way and expose herself,” Hunter said. “Your grams would be—”
“Grams is an old-fashioned prude who doesn’t know the first thing about being a modern woman. It’s been so long since she was young and in love that she’s probably forgotten how it feels.”
In love? Damn! He definitely wasn’t prepared to handle that kind of complication. Even if Manda were older, there were too many things that separated them on every level imaginable. She was and always would be off limits to him.
“Damn it, Manda, put your top back on and act like a grown-up instead of a stupid kid.”
“A stupid kid!”
She whirled around, anger flashing in her eyes, but before he could look away, he got an eyeful. God help him, the sight of her was enough to bring a strong man to his knees. Her breasts were large, firm and centered with pouting pink nipples.
Hunter jumped up, grabbed the red bikini top off the chaise and tossed it at Manda. “For heaven’s sake, brat, put that on. Now!”
She ignored his command, flung the top on the patio floor and shot out of the chaise. “I’m not a stupid kid. I’m a grown woman. Damn it, will you look at me? Can’t you see that I’m more than just Perry’s little sister?”
Hunter tried his level best to keep his gaze focused on her face, but that wasn’t an easy task. Not with her sweet, luscious body almost totally bare. He snatched the towel off the chaise and started to wrap it around her, but with another unexpected move, she flung herself at him and clung to him tenaciously. The towel slipped off and down to the floor. Her naked breasts pressed against his chest.
Hunter grabbed her shoulders, pulled her away from him and shook her soundly.
“What the hell’s going on?” Perry Munroe stood at the back door, a beer in each hand.
Manda whirled around, gasped when she saw her brother, then glanced over her shoulder and glared malevolently at Hunter. “Your best friend here was putting the moves on me.”
“Perry—”
“Damn it, Manda, put on some clothes, will you,” Perry said. “And leave Hunter alone.”
“You don’t believe me?” Manda asked in a wounded, little-girl voice.
Perry walked onto the patio, handed Hunter a beer, set the other on the table, then picked up the towel off the floor and wrapped it around Manda, crossing it over her breasts. “Get upstairs and put on a decent bathing suit before Grams sees you. And for the rest of Hunter’s stay with us, will you, please, leave him the hell alone?”
“You might not believe me, but we’ll see what Grams and Daddy have to say.” Manda scurried toward the house.
“Don’t you dare repeat such a stupid accusation,” Perry called after her, then turned to Hunter when Manda disappeared inside the house. “Sorry about that. She’s spoiled rotten. We usually give her anything she wants and unfortunately the one thing she wants the most right now is you.”
“She scares the hell out of me,” Hunter admitted. “Manda’s a stick of dynamite that’s just about ready to go off. Y’all had better tighten the reins on that girl.”
Perry laughed. “And think, she’s only sixteen. Can you imagine what we’ll have to deal with by the time she’s eighteen? Heaven help us.”
Hunter shook his head and laughed. “Heaven help the guy who marries her.”
Chapter 1
P erry Munroe found his sister pacing the floor in Dearborn Memorial Hospital’s ER waiting room. When she’d phoned him half an hour ago, she had been nearly hysterical. She’d kept repeating the same words. It’s happened again! The Manda Munroe Curse. The best he could make out from their brief conversation was that her date had taken ill during dinner and she had rushed him to the hospital. Of all things to have happened to Manda, why this? She hadn’t dated anyone in such a long time. Not since her fiancé Mike Farrar’s death.
Perry had hoped that the nightmare she’d lived through in the past was over, that she could actually live a normal life, find a man to love, marry and have children. He knew that was what his sister wanted more than anything. He’d thought perhaps her colleague, Dr. Boyd Gipson, who worked with her at the clinic where she was a grief counselor, might turn out to be Mr. Right. But somehow, by a trick of fate, Boyd had fallen victim to the Manda Munroe Curse, the phrase an insensitive reporter for the local newspaper had coined five years ago when Mike Farrar’s body had been found a week after his mysterious disappearance. At that time, the reporter had unearthed the tragic story of Manda’s past and the death of her first fiancé when she’d been twenty-one.