"Karen Robards - Beachcomber" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robards Karen)

author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

Copyright 2003 by Karen Robards All rights reserved, including the
right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever.

For information address Atria Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New
York, NY 10020

ISBN: 0-7434-5348-4

AT RIA BOOKS is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Manufactured in
the United States of America This book is dedicated with love and
appreciation to the memory of Mary Rose Miller, my children's honorary
grandmother, who passed away on May 26, 2003.

It is also dedicated, as always, to my husband, Doug, and to my three
sons, Peter, Christopher, and Jack, with all my love. Prologue pretty
girls in bikinis were everywhere, frolicking in the surf, walking up
and down the beach, sprawled out on towels as far as the eye could see.
It was the first Saturday in August, and Nags Head was sweltering and
hopping at the same time. The sun was a fireball the size of an orange
hanging low above the jagged skyline of hotels, condominiums, and
private residences that stood like a backbone behind the creamy curve
of the beach. The scent of suntan oil hung in the air. A raging boom
box all but drowned out the hiss and growl of the ocean. Vacationers
crammed the shore, all different ages and colors and sizes and shapes
mixed up together, talking and laughing as they soaked up the last of
the day's rays. Most of them were as invisible to him as he was to
them. The girls were what stood out in vivid Technicolor. As his gaze
moved from one to the other, lingering on a tall blonde here, caressing
a curvy brunette there, his body tightened and tingled with a familiar
anticipation. Just looking at them made him feel good all over. And
why not? They were his favorite prey.

"Look out!"

A beach ball bonked him in the side of the head. It didn't hurt, but
he blinked, startled, and glanced around. A college-age girl with long
blond hair scraped back in a ponytail and generous assets barely
contained by a tiny turquoise swimsuit grabbed the rebound."Sorry!"
she offered with a grin.

"No problem," he said, but she was already running back to rejoin her
friends. He played follow the bouncing ass until she dodged behind an
old guy dragging a kayak out of the water. The beach ball arced over
the old guy's head and was caught by another girl. A brunette. His
eyes widened as she leaped into the air to grab the ball. The blonde