by Robyn Grady
‘Very nice, but I’d have imagined you with something bigger,’ she teased.
He took her elbow again. ‘Believe me, it’s big enough.’
On board, they changed—she into her tangerine bikini and a sheer white beach shirt, Benton into chinos and a surf vest-top that emphasised the musculature of those shoulders and glorious breadth of his back. They stood side by side as he negotiated the passage out and into the harbour.
Enjoying the fresh salty air pushing against her face and the sun’s warmth on her skin, she inhaled and took in the stretch of glassy blue sea. What a difference a day made. Last night this man had been her enemy.
Today?
Well, today she was a new woman with a range of possibilities, including Benton Scott.
While he talked on about boating, she watched his hair ripple with the breeze and admired the deep brackets that formed around his mouth whenever he laughed. Was Benton seeing anyone at the moment? If so, it couldn’t be a serious relationship. He’d said he wasn’t after marriage.
She pulled her hair from whipping around her face and studied him more closely as he spoke.
Was he avoiding a walk down the aisle because he was happy playing the field or for a different reason? Had anyone ever broken his heart? Somehow she didn’t think so.
He steered into a tranquil cove and threw the anchor. The small stretch of deserted beach, which was enclosed by a curtain of rich green hillside, looked like a secret pocket in paradise.
After he dug out a picnic blanket and the hamper, he retrieved a bottle with an expensive label. ‘Anyone for chilled champagne?’
She’d had enough bubbles last night. ‘I’ll stick to cola.’
He backed down the boarding stairs, then, extending a hand, helped her down too.
‘Guess it’s not a day for celebrating,’ he said as they waded in knee-high water to the beach.
She thought it over.
‘It is in a way. At least now I can start to move forward.’
They crossed to a shaded portion of sand and she helped him square out the rug.
‘Do I get more than that abridged version?’ he asked.
She flinched. ‘It’s a long, messy story.’
He rummaged in the hamper and handed over a cola. ‘We’ve got all day.’ He sat down, one arm resting on a raised knee, the other pegged out slightly behind him.
Celeste had kept the more sordid details of her past to herself, like a dog protecting a dirty bone. Brooke was her only confidante. But perhaps this was the ideal time to do a final purge and let it all out. But was it fitting to clear the air with the man who would soon own her parents’ company?
Wrinkling her nose, she pressed the cool bottle against her chin. ‘Are you sure you want to hear it all?’ Was she sure she wanted to spill?
He examined the hamper’s contents. ‘We have sandwiches, cheese and fruit as well as chocolate hearts. Plenty of provisions to see us through till at least next Wednesday.’
She found a smile, but sobered again when she sat beside him and cast her mind back. Here goes.
‘My father was a mechanic’s son who’d become a mechanic himself, whereas my mother had come from money. You know that big house?’
He unscrewed a bottle of water. ‘It’s magnificent.’
‘It was a wedding gift from my grandfather, who never thought Dad was good enough for his little girl. That put a lot of pressure on Dad, and when he began to gather more clients with his mower-repair service, my mother suggested he expand.’
She sat back, remembering snatches of those days like a favourite old movie. ‘That time was the happiest I can remember. Dad was busy and productive and getting places, but he always had time for us.’ She dug her cola bottle into the sand. ‘Unfortunately his lack of business savvy got him into trouble with a partner who robbed him blind. He was devastated. That’s when my mother got involved and pulled him out of the pit. She put together a business plan and asked for a loan from Grandpa, who wasn’t at all pleased.’ She drew up and hugged her knees. ‘My father changed after that.’
Benton concentrated on her every word. ‘Your father’s pride was dented. When did you learn all this?’
‘A child hears a lot when arguments are in full swing after bedtime. My father would want to do something with the business his way and my mother would warn against it. She usually won the toss. That is until the franchise was well established.’ She hugged her legs tighter and peered out over the still water. ‘I never heard my father acknowledge her efforts. In fact, I think some part of him resented it. Over time, the difference in background and lack of respect took its toll. All the love she’d had for him was gone by my tenth birthday.’ She looked at Benton. ‘You might not believe a child would know, but I could see it in her eyes.’
‘No. I believe you.’
The deep understanding in his voice, the line between his brows, told her that he did, which gave her the heart to go on.
‘The day of my birthday, I’d had friends over for a party and my mother, as always, held it together well. My grandfather had died the week before,’ she explained. ‘But when my mother sat down to kiss me goodnight, it all came out. She was riddled with shame and guilt and hurt. Grandpa had left all his money to her older brother. They’d never paid Grandpa back, it seemed. Dad had put it off and put it off. My mother was placated by only one thought—one day her pains would count for something when PLM passed onto me. Not that I cared about it back then. I only wanted my parents to love each other again.’
‘But after your mother passed away, she didn’t have any say in what your father did with the company.’
Or if he remarried and had more children. Celeste thought of the widow Simmons and the baby she carried. Guess she would have a brother or sister soon; she’d always wanted one. But right now she couldn’t view those circumstances as simply as that.
She sighed and lowered her knees. ‘My mother died of a cerebral haemorrhage. I was so lonely, I physically ached. The longer I was without her, the more important it became that her prediction that night would come true. More to the point, I couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t. But after this morning, that part of my life is over.’ Her jaw clenched and she lifted her chin. ‘I hate to admit it, but I’m relieved.’
When Benton dropped his gaze, her heart squeezed. ‘Do you think she’d be disappointed in me giving up?’
Celeste wondered again about Benton’s background. What skeletons he had in his closet. He looked so polished. So squeaky clean.
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘Your cause was a noble one. But I agree. You need to put that away and think about you now.’
She fell back onto the sand, hands behind her head, and stared at the vacant blue sky. ‘I’m just not sure what it is I really need. Or even who I am any more.’
He lay down beside her, up on one elbow, his head propped in his hand. ‘You’re a young, beautiful, smart-mouthed woman who looks as fabulous in a swimsuit as she does an Akubra.’
Her cheeks heated and she grinned. ‘Must admit, you looked pretty cute in khaki.’
‘Didn’t stop you from trying to pitch me off that ride-on. Good thing I have a firm grip.’
As they smiled her gaze wandered down the thick column of his throat, past the beating pulse in its hollow to the loose neckline of his top. His bare chest would be as hard as granite, but hot and human. Hot and wonderfully male.
A wave of intense arousal washed through her veins. Almost a reflex, she sat up quickly. The palm trees’ shade had moved and the sun had crept up their legs. Heart pounding, she pushed to her feet. ‘It’s hot. I need to cool down.’
After shucking off her shirt, she waded into the water. But why had she run? Benton wasn’t her enemy any more. The truth was she wanted him to touch her. Wanted it very much. She knew from the gleam in his eyes that he wanted that too.
When the water lapped her waist, she turned around. He’d taken off his chinos and, arms crossed, was pulli
ng the shirt up over his head. Her breath caught. His bronzed athletic body, rippling with muscle, was a work of art in brief black swimmers. She’d seen that superb chest before, this morning on the balcony. But here, now, the extent of his masculinity almost overwhelmed her.
When he’d waded in to his thighs, he plunged under and, a few seconds later, surfaced inches away. He combed back his hair, leant forward and said, ‘Boo.’
His biceps flexed as he dropped his arms and a thrill of anticipation gripped low in her tummy. His presence was so compelling it was nothing short of dangerous.
Should she play it safe—try to ignore their sizzling chemistry—or take a chance and lean forward too? She’d had a shock this morning. Was she in any frame of mind to accept and handle the consequences?
Still torn, she held her breath and dived away.
He was right behind her, holding her ankle and pulling her back so he could shoot ahead. Enjoying the endorphin rush and cool silk of the water on her skin, she dived on top of his back and pushed him under. When they came up for air, they were laughing. His hands were cupping her waist and, after the exercise, cords of golden brown sinew roped down the lengths of his arms.
Their smiles faded as the air between them sparked with awareness—charged with sexual promise. Simmering with sensual need.
This time she didn’t move away.
‘Did you really think I’d try to seduce you to retain my father’s firm?’ she asked, finding her breath.
His hands slid down over her hips. ‘I didn’t know what to think, which is odd. I usually have no trouble reading people.’
She gingerly laid her palms on his pecs. Yes, indeed…hot human granite. ‘Is reading people your special talent?’
His eyes darkened as his fingers combed down over her behind and his chest flexed beneath her hands. ‘One of them.’
Her pulse rate picked up a notch. ‘I’ll admit it now. I liked your kiss.’
He grinned. ‘I guessed.’ He took her right hand and grazed his lips over the delicate underside of her wrist. ‘You might be interested to know that my kissing abilities aren’t limited to mouth to mouth.’
The buzz from that intimate contact was still humming through her blood when she found her voice, which had gone curiously thick. ‘Give me an example.’
Feigning affront, he tipped his chin at her wrist. ‘That’s not proof enough?’
She gave a teasing shrug. ‘Might’ve been a fluke.’
His thumb pressed into her palm, opening her fingers. ‘Then let’s try the mouth-to-fingertip technique.’ He concentrated on each finger, placing his lips on their tips, sucking the last one into his mouth just a little.
Her core smouldered and sparked. Although she pretended indifference, she was breathing faster now. ‘Hmm. Not bad.’
His sexy smile was knowing. ‘Here’s a personal favourite…lips trailing the curve of the neck.’
He came forward and her head rocked back as he nuzzled skin that was connected to invisible strings that made her nipples tingle and jump.
As he slowly pulled away she stifled a syrupy sigh but offered only a half-hearted nod. ‘Quite nice, Mr Scott. But hardly inventive.’
His eyes narrowed playfully. ‘You want new and exciting?’
‘Are my expectations too high?’
‘I don’t know. Are they?’
She knew what he was asking. He wasn’t into commitment. God knew, after today’s kick in the pants, neither was she.
She coiled her arms around his neck. ‘The last fifteen years of my life I’ve spent limiting myself. Never letting my eye roam from the target. Today hurt, but you’re right. I need to put that behind me and do what’s best for me now.’ Her fingers threaded up through the strong wet hair at his nape. ‘Are you what I need now?’
He brought her hips forward. ‘I know you’re what I need.’ Beneath the water, she felt just how much.
Giving herself over to the delicious pulsing ache deep inside, she rested her lips against his. ‘I think I’m ready to try mouth to mouth again.’
His eyes smiled. ‘I’ll see what I can do about new and exciting.’
CHAPTER FOUR
CELESTE let go any remaining inhibitions and met Benton’s kiss, head-on. A jet of colour-filled emotions swirled through her, just as they had when his mouth had claimed hers to such devastating effect last night. But this time the thrill and desire felt sharper—went deeper. She trembled, thinking of what was to come.
Beneath the water line, those large masculine hands on her hips gently rotated her against his swell.
His arms wrapped around her more, then he brought her down with him until they were kissing underwater—all sound cut off, daylight flicking faraway patterns over their heads. When they ran out of air and surfaced, her bikini top was in his hand.
Gobsmacked, she gaped down. Yep, she was naked from the hips up.
With a testing grin, he dangled the top. ‘Not sure how that happened. Hope you’re not shy.’
Normally she was. She was a keep-the-lights-off kind of girl. And she hadn’t been with anyone for a good while. But no one had ever attracted her like this man. She could go on kissing him for ever. But since that wasn’t possible, she’d gladly take every moment she had with him today.
So, after a small stab of embarrassment and a deep breath, she smiled. ‘I’m feeling reckless.’
His blue eyes sparkled. ‘Way better than feeling numb.’
He was about to kiss her again when she pulled back and threw a nervous glance over her shoulder. ‘There’s no one around, though, is there?’
His finger skimmed up her arm, then down to circle one tight nipple. ‘Reckless, remember.’ He gently rolled the peak.
Melting at his touch, she couldn’t find any words, particularly when he left her to stand alone as he sank beneath the water again. Feeling exposed, but resisting the urge to cover her bare breasts, she coughed out a laugh as she felt her bikini bottoms slipping down. A second later she quivered; she guessed it was his mouth that had brushed at the juncture of her thighs.
Benton emerged slowly…the top of his head, his eyes and nose, then his wicked smile. Standing before her like an eternal mountain, he dangled the bottoms. ‘Still feeling brave.’
Yes. No.
Her stomach gripped. ‘I’ve never done this before.’
His expression froze. ‘You’re a virgin?’
‘I mean I’ve never slept with someone I’ve known less than a day.’
His hand combed over her crown, ending by tugging her hair, and head, gently back. He kissed her with a penetrating, calculated skill that curled her toes and left the tips of her breasts burning as they rubbed against his crisp chest hair.
His lips gradually left hers. ‘Then I consider myself a very lucky man.’ He took her hand and cupped it over his erection.
She felt her eyes bulge. ‘Am I supposed to say I’m lucky, too?’
He growled. ‘Right now, you’re not supposed to say too much at all.’
He kissed her again, one hand on the small of her back pushing her against him as well as their hands sandwiched between. Then his hand turned and scooped between her thighs. His touch slid up her centre and down again, stoking the fire before honing in on that critical burning bead.
She groaned against his mouth. ‘Can I just say that feels fabulous?’
‘On one condition.’ She felt the naked length of him jump and slide across her belly. ‘I get to say the same.’
He bent so that his knees bracketed hers and lowered enough to guide his hot velvet tip over and around that spot.
His warm breath murmured at her ear, reducing her to compliant putty. ‘Are you protected?’
She faded back up.
Protection? Oh, damn!
She bit her lip. ‘Sorry.’
His knees straightened as he dropped soft lingering kisses on her cheek and brow. ‘I have condoms on board.’
She quelled a pang of hurt. So he’d broug
ht other women here, or at least had had women on his boat. How many? Two? Twenty?
Inside, she forced a shrug.
So they were both experienced—he a good deal more than she, no doubt—but what did she expect? More so, what did it matter when her body had caught light and real time had twirled off into another dimension?
He handed over her bikini, swung her up into the mighty bands of his arms and waded to the boarding steps. Then he gazed down at her, his mouth pressed together. ‘Don’t think I can manage the steps with you in my arms.’
Well, of course not. But she wasn’t climbing up first. At least he still had his swimmers on.
‘Put me down. I’ll follow on behind.’
‘I have a better idea.’
With a single fluid movement, he manoeuvred her body and flung her over the sturdy ledge of his shoulder, sack-of-potatoes style. Her naked butt was pointing in the air—oh, God—right next to his face. Clinging to the hard muscle of his sides—taking in the upside-down sight of his tight buns—she felt her cheeks burn unbearably hot.
‘I’m not comfortable about this,’ she cried out.
She felt his chest and back expand on a satisfied breath. ‘I must confess I have an overwhelming urge to slap your tail.’
She threw one hand behind her. ‘Don’t you dare!’
His hearty chuckle reverberated all the way through her.
One arm pinned around her legs, he negotiated the stairs, then carried her to the front of the boat. But he detoured to a small bathroom and didn’t set her down until he flicked on the tap. He kicked off his swimmers and, her heartbeat knocking against her ribs, her gaze slid down.
Oh, Lord!
But before she had time to think any longer on it, he ushered her into the shower recess, soaped up his hands and began to rub her all over. It was true. She’d died and gone to heaven.
She reached for the soap. ‘Mind if I play?’
His touch slid lower. ‘Join in any time.’
She pumped creamy liquid soap and while he lathered her tummy she palmed the gorgeous mounds of his shoulders. Her fingers wove down the middle of his chest, over his washboard abs, lower until…
