Love at High Tide

by Christi Barth

Overview

Darcy Trent is lucky Cooper Hudson is on hand to sweep her off her feet—literally—when she nearly drowns while swimming in the ocean. But life-saving aside, Mr. Perfect's timing stinks: Darcy's career is about to take her to the complete opposite side of the Atlantic. Still, a little summer loving with the tall, blond and sexy former cop is far too tempting to pass up.

When his plans to enter the Secret Service went south thanks to a bum knee, Coop retreated to the family beach house to mull his future. Romance is the last thing on his mind, until he fishes a curvy brunette out of the sea. Now, spending time in Darcy's arms seems like the ideal distraction, even if it is just for a week.

But with Darcy's departure date fast approaching and their careers on the line, can they realize in time that their beach fling might become the real thing?

46,000 words

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781426895791
Publisher:	Carina Press
Publication date:	07/08/2013
Sold by:	HARLEQUIN
Format:	eBook
Pages:	384
File size:	265 KB

About the Author

• Christi Barth writes sassy, sexy and smart contemporary romances. She earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes contemporary romance. Christi is lives in Maryland with her husband.

Read an Excerpt

Finally. Since time immemorial humanity had been searching for it, and she, Darcy Trent, had finally found Eden. This wasn't merely an educated guess on her part. Raised by an archeologist and an ancient worlds specialist, she'd quite literally cut her teeth (to her parents' shock and dismay at her reckless disregard for leaving drool on antique texts) on all things dusty, old and priceless. With two degrees in cultural anthropology under her belt—soon to be followed by the coveted third, which would enable her to precede her name forever with the all-important title of doctor—Darcy could quite rightly claim decades of study and research had led her to this all-important, incontrovertible discovery. She closed her eyes to savor the moment.

"A seagull just pooped on my toe."

Darcy's eyes popped back open. Trina, her best friend since their matching-pigtail days, sat on a watermelon pink and green towel, surveying the toe in question with a glum look.

Darcy slid a little lower in her beach chair and sighed. "Trina, I'm having a moment here."

"And you can go back to your magic moment once I rinse off my toe. Come with me."

Yup, reality had a perfect track record for slapping Darcy in the face the second she let her guard down. Evidently Ocean City, Maryland wasn't cut out to be Eden after all. But it sure felt like it.

Darcy ticked off the criteria in her head. No dysentery, no lions lurking behind a bush planning their next meal around her, and water as far as the eye could see. After eight months in sub-Saharan Africa finishing her dissertation, this beachside tourist trap fit the bill perfectly. Okay, maybe this stretch of beach covered with oil-slicked teens, screaming tots and a few too many jellyfish wasn't really the official paradise on earth regaled in myth and legend. But for the next week, she literally couldn't think of anyplace she'd rather be.

"Darcy, come on," Trina hollered. The noonday sun turned Trina's hair into a strawberry nimbus. Its bell shape swung back and forth as she made an elaborate production of standing without letting the offending toe touch her towel.

"You're twenty-seven years old. Why can't you walk to the water's edge by yourself?" Darcy asked. Without waiting for an answer, she gave in to the inevitable and pushed herself out of the chair. She ran her fingers over her navy bikini bottoms in a quick modesty check. No thongs for her. Darcy believed at least dinner and drinks were required before anyone saw her naked butt.

"Girl code 101. We go everywhere in pairs to look out for each other." Trina threw an arm around Darcy's waist. Sand rubbed in the tiny sliver of flesh between her bottoms and her tankini top. "So if a wave pulls my bikini off my boobs, you can warn me."

"Or—and here's a crazy thought—you could wear a suit that actually covers your breasts." Trina's tiny white tube top exposed quite a lot of freckled skin. Darcy wouldn't have felt comfortable using that little fabric for a bandanna. "Built-in safety from flashing."

"Where's the fun in that?" Trina giggled. She swerved sideways to avoid being barreled into by a shrieking, naked toddler carrying fistfuls of seaweed. "Plus, it's no fun to spot for hot guys by myself. You've got to rate them, too. Beach goggles are just as dangerous as beer goggles. At least fifty percent of guys look hot when they're shirtless with a steaming fresh tan."