haircut.â
No point arguing with her, Jack decided. âFine. The scissors are in the galley, third drawer to the left of the sink.â
âIâll go get them and you take a seat at the table.â She tossed him the towel. âSlip off your shirt and wrap this around your shoulders.â
He saluted. âAnything else, Major?â
She laughed. âYouâre the second person whoâs called me Major, but I believe the last time it was followed by âpain in the butt.ââ
He rose from the sofa and slipped his shirt overhis head then tossed it aside. âAre you always so high maintenance, Dorothy?â
âNot really, Ahab. Iâm just the kind of person who knows what she wants and then does her darnedest to get it.â
Not so unlike him, Jack thought. Heâd spent his life being that driven.
Right now Lizzie looked as though she wanted something from him, something sweet and seductive, apparent by the way her gaze slid over his bare chest.
Her eyes widened and so did her smile. âYouâre in really great shape. Do you work out often?â
He had one particular workout in mind, but it didnât involve weights. âOnly in the sense of maintaining the boat.â
She moved closer. âI guess you just come by it naturally, then.â
In order to get his thoughts back on course and his body back under control, Jack said, âSpeaking of working, Iâm going to try and get the engine to turn over. The alternator charges the batteries so weâll have some lights.â
Following a sexy shake of her hair, she sauntered toward the adjacent galley. âI really donât mind the darkness, as long as youâre here.â
Jack wasnât totally in the dark about what she intended to do with him, to him. Sheâd been doing it since her arrival. Question was, would he have the strength to deny her?
A day ago, he might have said yes. But today, he wasnât at all sure about anything, except for the fact that Lizzie Matheson was totally disrupting his life. And he was beginning to like it.
Four
T he man had a fine head of hair to match his equally fine bod, Lizzie thought while she started to work on Jackâs trim. She didnât like cutting hair dry but she didnât dare ask him to wet it considering water was a precious commodity. While he sat silently in the swivel chair anchored to the dining-room table, she started with the back, snipping a little here, layering a little there. She had one heck of a time keeping her attention on her task, especially when she moved in front of him and faced his remarkable chest peeking out from the towel sheâd draped across his broad shoulders. If she didnât do a better job of concentrating, heâd end up with a reverse Mohawk.
Fine strands of hair rained down onto the towel and she took the opportunity to periodically brush them away, noting that every time she flicked herfingertips over his chest and belly, his muscles tightened. This had to be the most fun sheâd ever had giving a man a haircut.
âAre you almost done?â Jackâs voice fell somewhere between a growl and a plea, the first words he had spoken since sheâd begun.
âPatience, Ahab. You have a lot of hair.â
âUntil you got your hands on it,â he muttered.
She could continue for an hour and still have plenty to work with. âYou know something, your boat really needs a name.â
He glanced up at her, a hint of irritation in his expression. âIt has a name.â
She slid her fingers through his hair, enjoying the soft texture against her palm. âSo what is it?â
âHannah.â
A womanâs name. Lizzie probably shouldnât be surprised at all, nor should she be jealous. But she had to admit she was. Naming a boat after a woman was as intimate as having a womanâs name tattooed on a body part. She wondered if, in fact, Jack did sport a tattoo
M.J. O'Shea & Anna Martin