There she was.

Alexander reached the shallow end of the pool and grabbed the ledge. Her unexpected arrival annihilated his focus and put an abrupt end to any hope he had of achieving a new personal best. That didn’t matter anymore. Her very presence forced him to stand tall and ease his shoulders back while he watched in fascination as she stepped from the lady’s locker room.

It was Miranda Jenkins, the new psychology lecturer and his new next-door neighbor. Three weeks had already gone by since she first snared his attention and began taunting his masculine need with her sex appeal.

He lifted his goggles to his brow to get a better look at her. She was gorgeous. Even more than that, she was unbelievably sexy. She looked sexy in a plain dress suit, let alone a sporty, black bikini. Touched by hot, summer rays, her bronze flesh looked smooth and radiant.

Mesmerized by the beauty she possessed, he stood helplessly in the pool and took his time admiring her.

While easing his gaze from her breasts, down to her tummy and then over her perfectly shaped hips, he had to clench his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping. Miranda didn’t have the petite, slender body he envisioned in his wild fantasies. Although she didn’t stand much taller than five feet, her toned and athletic body was surly the envy of every woman who’d seen this much of her. He inspected every inch of her body, right down to the dark purple paint she wore on her toes. Even her feet were perfect.

She’s flawless. He groaned at the thought of having her in his bed and bit his bottom lip while imaging what her cries would sound like if she ever found out how many ways he could satisfy her. He was desperate to kiss and caress every inch of her body. He wanted to massage her breasts, taste her pussy, and harness her arousal until she begged him to fuck her.

And did he ever want to fuck her.

He closed his eyes and groaned again as he envisioned her coming to orgasm beneath him. If he ever had an opportunity to entice her, he promised himself he would seize it. No matter what it took, he wanted her to be his next playmate.

She set her folded towel right next to the one Alexander had slung over the back of the bench. As she took small, cautious steps toward the tile stairs, she gathered her soft, brown locks of hair in her hands and tied it all back. Then, as she dipped one foot at a time into the pool, she gingerly dragged her fingers along the railing. Her carefully manicured fingernails were painted to match her toes.

Although he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He slowly pulled his goggles back over his eyes before she noticed him staring at her like a child with his face pressed up against the window of a candy store.

Too late.

She looked right at him.

Once she was in the pool only a matter of yards separated them. Blood rushed to his head. Humiliation spilled over him like a tidal wave.

To his relief, her lips spread into a sweet smile, dispelling his humiliation. She mouthed a soft “hi,” and raised a hand from the water to wave her fingers at him.

He returned a crooked smile and a curt nod before she glided away in the swimming lane next to him. It could have been his own body, or just his imagination, but he could have sworn the temperature of the pool rose now that she was in it.

Occasionally, he would glance at Miranda while he completed his laps. He couldn’t get enough of watching her body glide so elegantly through the water. The breaststroke, naturally, was her style of choice. Her leisurely pace gave him time to appreciate her every movement, from her insweep to her outsweep.

Visions of hot, torrid sex raced through his mind each time he closed his eyes. Blazing hot tingles raced through his veins as he fantasized about holding her naked body against his. He imagined what it would feel like to have her lips bless his body with an abundance of sweet, sensual kisses.

It had been a long time since he’d been intimate with a woman. In the last few years, establishing a name for himself in the world of biochemical research had become far more important than establishing a romantic relationship—not that it was a romantic relationship he wanted with Miranda. Having her for a sex partner would suffice. And, if she was a single, likeminded woman, a sizzling no-strings-attached affair was not beyond reality.

As far as he could tell, Miranda lived all alone. Three weekends ago, when he offered to help carry some boxes up to her flat, there was no sign of a man or any children. In fact, as far as he knew, no one had even paid Miranda a visit since she moved in. She seemed to spend most of her evenings outside on the balcony, reading a book or soaking up the last of the summer rays.

It wouldn’t be long before that changed. She was a rare and divine beauty, and he wasn’t the only sex-starved bachelor who’d taken notice. If he wanted to make a pass at her at all, he’d better make it quick. Only God knew how many other men had fucking Miranda Jenkins six ways to Sunday on their minds.

With that thought in mind, the erotic visions came racing back and paraded through his head. There she was again, tattooed to the back of his eyelids. He could see her bare, radiant flesh… Her arms and legs wrapped tight around his body, holding him close… Her lips parting for him, beckoning to be tasted while he fucked her. He imagined the sound of her tender moans turning into cries of ecstasy as she came for him.

“Dammit!” he cursed as he swam straight into the wall of the pool. He rose to his feet and shook his head, splashing water in every direction. Dragging his forearm across his brow, he pulled his goggles down around his neck before wiping hair out of his face.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Miranda blinking water out of her eye.

“Miranda, my apologies,” he offered. “I didn’t see you there.” He realized it was Miranda he had swum into and not the pool wall, as there was still another foot or two of lane behind her.

“It’s all right,” she said and offered a polite smile. “I would have moved, but I wasn’t sure you were going to slow down.”

He chuckled and looked again at how close he had come to swimming into a solid wall. “Wouldn’t that have brilliant addition to Alexander’s Archive of Mortifying Moments?” Although, he wasn’t so sure swimming into her was any less humiliating.

“If it had been me, it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time. You’re not the only one with a history of mortifying moments at the local swimming pool,” she said.

“Slammed into a couple of walls after a good swim, have you?” he asked, even as he wondered if she’d ever lost her composure. She always seemed to move with such grace and precision.

“That, among other things, yes,” she admitted. “I’ve got my fair share of embarrassing moments. I should tell you about them sometime.”