Excerpt of Everglades by Petie McCarty

Landers pulled back a palm frond and nodded silently toward the clearing beyond. Kayli eased forward to peer over his shoulder. His unique scent of male, sunscreen, and cologne assailed her senses and left her light-headed.

She blinked and caught a blur of white. A wood stork stood near the trunk of a small live oak and rocked slightly in place. Landers turned his head, his face inches from hers. She concentrated on the bird; she could feel him wanting her to notice something.

"Oh my gosh," she whispered. The bird stirred at the sound. "He's got a hook stuck in his beak."

She could feel Landers nod. His scent seduced at this close range, and she wanted to scream at the sudden desire to wrap it around her like a cloak. One day out in the sun and she had completely lost her mind. She shook her head hard.

"What?" he whispered softly.

"Nothing. Can you help him, Landers?"

A smile twitched at one corner of his mouth. "How do you know it's a him?"

She fought the continuing flush at his nearness and gave a devilish grin. "No self-respecting female wood stork would eat something with a fish hook in it," she whispered back. "She'd check her food first."

His jaw dropped, and she wanted to scream in exultation until she saw the grin start and his eyes darken. Apprehension sapped her mirth. Her mouth went bone-dry. Twelve inches separated his lips from hers. Not far in the grand scheme of things.

He shifted. Ten inches separated them.

She hazarded a brief glance at his eyes. All dark, no color.

"When are you going to call me Skye?" His voice sounded husky.

The blur of white snagged their simultaneous attentions. The stork hopped, and closer inspection showed monofilament line dangled from the hook and twisted around the bird's legs, leaving him nothing but an awkward hop for locomotion.

Kayli stifled a gasp.

"He hasn't been like that long," Landers said, watching her expression.

She couldn't say whether the sudden twist in her stomach came from fear for the wounded stork or fear of falling for Landers. This man could read her mind, and that alone should scare the devil out of her.

"How do you know?" she managed to ask and kept her eyes focused hard on the bird. She felt him turn.

"Because he'd have starved by now. Wading birds that can't walk and stir up the bottom sediments for food soon starve." His face was close enough she could feel the change in temperature against her cheek. Her insides felt like jelly, and she imagined the press of her lips against the sultry mouth waiting only inches from hers.

You don't really have a boyfriend, her heart reasoned.

Her better judgment prodded her with the argument she had, in fact, convinced this gorgeous man she did have a boyfriend. Would he think her a loose woman if she kissed him now? She knew deep down Landers waited for her to turn and face him, but at this close range she didn't dare. She was unprepared to cross the invisible line. Even the bird had shifted to stare in their direction, and his tiny dark eyes begged for help.

"Please help him." Her eyes stayed on the distressed bird.

"Skye," he whispered in her ear. "Please help him, Skye."

She wanted to jerk away from the warm breath against her ear, and at the same time wanted to press her ear against his lips. She couldn't focus enough to draw air into her lungs. Her whole being focused on the warm breath against her ear, and she felt faint. She swallowed a lump that had eased into her throat and managed a small breath of air.

"Please help him, Skye."