THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

in. She ambled to the middle of the room and stopped in front of the sliding glass doors. The linen bag slipped from her fingers to land next to her sneakers.
    She stared with quiet assessment at the spectacular ocean vista beyond his patio. That had sold him on this location.
    Stone walkways separated tiered layers of immaculate flowering gardens along a boardwalk to the pristine sandy beach. Curling emerald waves from the Atlantic crashed against the shore.
    The sparkling serenity was lost on Zane.
    He couldn’t focus past the foreground. Loose strands of auburn hair dangled below her floppy hat. The white cotton shirt disappeared at the waistband of jeans that covered a sweet pair of cheeks.
    “What a beautiful view,” she sighed.
    Honey, you have no idea . “One of the best I’ve ever seen,” he muttered. He’d love to pull the hat off and finish the vision.
    She looked over her shoulder at him. “What?”
    Bright sunlight in the background haloed around her. Highlights danced across the curves of her body, tantalizing the image his mind was determined to create.
    Oh yeah, he’d take that hat off.
    In his fantasy, it would land on top of a pair of jeans and white cotton shirt already tossed on the bedroom floor.
    “What’d you say?” she asked, exhaustion running her words together.
    “Nothing,” he answered. “Make yourself at home.”
    She didn’t move a muscle. “Have you lived here long?” 
    “You mean in this apartment or Ft. Lauderdale?” He walked into the kitchen. “How about something to drink?”
    “Water, please,” she called out. “How long have you lived in Ft. Lauderdale?” 
    He handed her a chilled bottle on his way to open the glass doors to the patio.
    “Three years.”  Heat blanketed him as he stepped onto the green and white ceramic tile. With the crook of his finger, Zane motioned Angel to follow then pulled out a black wrought-iron chair with a plush outdoor cushion on the seat.
    “Take a load off.” 
    Just as Angel set her water on the mosaic table surface, the doorbell chimed.
    Damn. Don’t be Trish. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.” Zane strolled away, intent on handling this quickly.
    Angel popped up, ready to leave if she recognized his guest. She had a clear view of Zane, but not the other person.
    At the door, he stepped back to allow a tall young woman to enter. Thick black hair covered her head, falling in dainty curls around her face. She was striking with her dark hair and creamy complexion.
    She wrapped two delicate arms around Zane’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. They spoke quietly for a moment, Zane sounding serious about something he was saying.
    Seeing those two together pricked her temper. She couldn’t be jealous. She hardly knew this man.
    Or the woman Zane was so cozy with. Black curls bounced every time she moved. Reminded Angel of a pixie, all delicate and pretty.
    Angel had never been considered delicate.
    She’d had to be in shape as an athlete and tough in prison. Delicate equaled dead in there. Eyeing Zane’s visitor, Angel doubted that graceful, curvaceous body hugging all over him had ever spent forty-eight hours living through a torturous survival weekend or running a marathon.
    Or living on catnaps for a year for fear of getting her throat slit.
    She had every reason to be proud of what she’d accomplished. So why was she suffering a moment of feeling inadequate just because she stood so close to feminine perfection?
    Zane’s smile flattened out into a straight-line frown.
    Now that improved Angel’s mood.
    A bit uncharitable on my part isn’t it? Too bad. She could live with the guilt.
    She moved a little closer to catch what was being said.
    The twenty-something woman prancing around Zane in an ankle-length bright peach dress and straw sandals laced up her calf could be a professional model. She had a southern accent when she spoke. “Sugar, I’m fine, really. I told you. Heidi came to get me as soon as I called. You missed me, didn’t you?”
    “I always miss you,” Zane answered, with a smile that bordered on tolerant.
    Beginning to seriously dislike the beautiful visitor, Angel stepped all the way around the table and leaned forward to hear better.
    The dark-eyed woman wrapped an arm around Zane’s waist, hugging herself to him. “I came by three times this week looking for you. You’re harder to catch than a shadow. Thanks for my surprise. I found the birdhouses when I came in this