I glance up at Tanner, who’s dead to the world. His face is so peaceful, his chest rising and falling with soft breaths. I wiggle from his grip and sneak out of bed, retrieving my crumpled panties from the floor and slipping them on. I pad over to his closet, opting to snatch one of his shirts from a hanger instead of pulling on my dress from the night before. I choose the first one I see, a pale blue button-up, crisp and ironed to perfection. I slide it on and fasten a few of the buttons, then fluff my hair out, tiptoeing to the kitchen next.
I close the bedroom door quietly, wandering onto the sleek, black floor. The tile is marble, with golden specks in it, matching the counters. It looks spotless and polished to a high shine, and I wonder, remembering the immoderate bread buffet from yesterday evening, if Tanner never has to cook a thing. I pull open the refrigerator, and to my surprise, it is filled with every fresh fruit and vegetable imaginable, plus an infinite supply of bottled water. I reach for the eggs, milk, and bacon, and search the cupboards for the pots and pans. I make sure the bacon is crispy and add shredded cheese to the scrambled eggs, eager to sate the loud growling in my belly. I dig through a drawer for a fork and decide to take two, pushing some of the breakfast onto another plate for Tanner.
Opening the bedroom door with two plates in my hand is tricky, but I manage. When I enter, there’s a little movement from the bed, Tanner’s legs shifting beneath the blanket. His arms come up and he lifts his head, folding them underneath. His eyes slowly flicker open, working to focus on me as I stand there at the edge of the bed, plates in hand.
“Um…I made breakfast. Hope you don’t mind. I was starving.”
“Of course not,” he responds, voice groggy. He sleepily pats the space next to him and moves to sit up against the headboard. The blanket falls to his waist, revealing that impressive, rigid abdomen. I climb into bed and scoot up next to him, placing one plate on his lap. He eyes the plate, then me, studying his shirt.
“I didn’t want to wear my dress,” I explain, my fork suspended in midair, inches from my mouth.
He lifts a hand and grazes the side of my thigh, playing with the hem of the shirt. “A work of art,” he says, moving to pick up his plate. “Very sexy, Anya Banks.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I dig into my scrambled eggs, resting my head back as Tanner chews on a piece of bacon. “Taste okay?”
“Tastes great.” He shovels a mouthful of eggs onto his fork. “I wasn’t expecting breakfast in bed.”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting anything last night.”
He smirks and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “I missed my jog last night because of you.”
“I never went home last night because of you.”
“Do you regret it?”
I wiggle my toes and tilt my head as I playfully consider his question. My limbs are relaxed and every muscle in my body is tender. “Nope,” I smile and take a bite, pulling my legs up to rest my plate on my knees, “not one bit.” And it’s true. Lana will be thrilled to hear the news, I’m sure.
“What are your plans for the day? I have to get to the office soon.”
“The beach. We’re docked on this island for two nights, right?”
“Correct. I’ll see to it that you have a personal cabana and a fully stocked kitchen. You’re welcome to stay both days, if you’d like.”
“Oh, I don’t need any of that. Just a towel and a lounge chair and I’m good.”
Tanner sets his plate down and clears his throat. His voice is still gruff from sleep, and it’s incredibly sexy. “Anya, you will take the cabana. I insist.”
“Do all of your playthings get the cabana?”
“Playthings?” He cocks a brow, a tired, amused smile spreading over his face.
“I don’t want special treatment, thank you very much. I’m here to work and relax. You showering me with…luxuries makes me feel like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Wo—”
“Stop right there.” Tanner sits up straight. “If I shower you with anything, it’s because I’m a wealthy man and I can, and I choose to. You are not that. Let’s get that straight right now.”
“Whatever. That’s exactly what I am.” I stand and collect my empty plate, reaching for his. “You going to finish that?”
He snatches my wrist and pulls me back into bed. I yelp and my plate drops onto the sheets. He places me on his lap so I’m straddling him. I’m inches from his face. It’s downright irritating how good looking he is first thing in the morning. “You’re not a plaything. You made that very clear when you told me you prefer sex in committed relationships.”
“But I chose this anyway.” I shrug. “That makes me just like the brunette in the hallway—”
“Anya, enough. You said you’ve never done this before. Was that the truth?”
“Yes…”
“Then in that case, you’re a woman who respects herself, who is choosing to experiment with something different for once. Nothing more, nothing less. And can we please stop discussing the brunette in the hallway?”
“Who was she?” Once again, the word vomit just keeps on coming. But I want to know. I’m curious.
He stares up at me, looking as curious as I feel. “You seriously want to know?”
“Yes. She was very beautiful.”
Tanner shifts beneath me, his eyes scanning the space behind me for a second before bringing them back to my patient gaze. “Just a woman I see from time to time.”
“Is she the only one?”
“The only one?”
“The only…repeat?”
“Shit, Anya, I don’t hire women to…”
I tap his chest. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” He raises his chin in challenge, begging me to soothe his wounded ego.
“Tanner,” I squeeze his shoulder playfully, “I only mean, she is more than a one-night stand. Right?”
“Right.”
“Elaborate.” I wiggle on his lap and rest back on my hands, digging my knees into the sheets.
“That woman and I get together when it’s convenient. We work together. It’s not exclusive. What you and I are doing is new for me, too. I’m simply trying to provide an arrangement that suits you.”
“How considerate of you, Mr. Christensen,” I joke, smirking coyly. I move to lean forward, but he beats me to it and moves in, wrapping his arms around me.
“There’s that word again.” He grimaces, as if there’s a bad taste in his mouth. “Considerate.”
“You said considerate is good.”
“Good, yes, but there’s much more to keeping a woman satisfied than simply being considerate.”
“As you would surely know.”
“I kept you very satisfied last night, did I not?”
“You know you did.”
“Then aren’t you glad I have the knowledge?” I shake my head with a smile, moving to lift myself off of him, but he still won’t budge. His arms are ironclad around my back. “You’re a smart, sexy woman, Anya Banks. You’re going to make some man very happy one day.”
I bend to meet his lips, pressing a soft kiss on his mouth. “Thank you.” A pleased hum vibrates in his throat.
“Notice I said man,” he adds sternly against my lips. “Find one who knows how to please you. Who listens.”
“Yes, sir,” I tease, giving him a salute.
“I mean it,” he teases back, pecking my cheek, “I expect a report.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” I roll my eyes and slide off him. He swats my ass and slips out of bed, shuffling toward the closet. I admire the view, scanning his tan backside with a contented sigh.
“I need to shower and get going, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Enjoy your day on the island.” He retrieves some clean clothes and starts for the bathroom. “I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” When he reaches the door, he pivots and points. “Use the cabana.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll be speaking to your boss this afternoon.”
/> Shit. I forgot. “Tanner! No!”
He grins mischievously and jogs into the bathroom. I jump out of bed and race across the carpet, but the lock clicks and I’m effectively shut out.
“Tanner! Please, don’t.”
The water starts to run. “Sorry,” he shouts, “can’t hear you.”
I change tactics. “I need a shower, too. Can I join you?”
There’s silence for a moment, and the lock unclicks. He cracks the door with a knowing smile. I play it up, holding his gaze while I toy with my top shirt button, popping one, then the next, working a lazy trail down. His greedy eyes follow and he reaches out, hooking his fingers around my collar. With a little tug, he pulls me into the bathroom and I fall against him. His mouth bears down on mine and my legs lift, curling around his hips. He picks me up and slams the bathroom door closed, and we stumble into the shower. I might not be able to change his mind, but I can sure as hell try.
***
The hot sand burns my toes, but it feels so good, I welcome the pain. My eyes drift shut for a moment as I step onto the beach, and I tilt my head back, willing the sun to sink into my pores. My tote bag hangs from my shoulder, my sunscreen is evenly applied, and the breeze that whips off the ocean caresses my skin. It’s an absolutely perfect day, which started off on the right foot with Tanner in the shower. He was late to the office, though he didn’t seem to care much since he is, after all, the boss. He wasted more time after the shower urging me to program his number into my cell phone, insisting I have it on hand for dinner that evening.
Alvita, the Trident Voyager’s small, privately owned Bahamian Island, is a laidback, tropical paradise, just as picturesque as it promises in the brochure. White, fluffy sand spreads for miles, and the crystal clear, aquamarine water gently laps at the shoreline, as serene as the breeze that sways through the clusters of palm trees along the beach. I spot the row of private cabanas on the far right side and start toward them, looking for the guest check-in counter that Tanner told me to seek out. A sweet older woman with tanned, leathery skin and deep crinkles around her eyes greets me and hands me a key, directing me to the third cabana on the right. I quickly text Lana to see if she’s arrived yet or if she’s still back on the ship.
A feisty tug pulls at my hair from behind as I begin to text her.
“Hey!” Lana bounces forward and wraps me in a hug.
“I was just getting ready to text you. I have a cabana for us.” I smile and hold up the key, dangling it in her face.
“You mean one of those?” She points to the straw huts and her face lights up.
“Yup. Courtesy of Mr. Christensen.”
“Holy shit!” She grabs my hand and begins dragging me toward the cabanas, her other hand securing the brim of her big, floppy hat tighter to her head. Her neon yellow bikini is as loud as her red, wavy hair. “The perks just keep getting better and better!”
“He insisted,” I laugh, letting her tug me across the sand. She’s really hauling ass, as if a million dollars await her under one of the straw roofs. “Slow down, will you?”
“Which one is it?”
“Mmmm,” I glance at the key, “number three.”
We stop in front of the third cabana and Lana hurries me along, barking at me to unlock the side door.
“Oh my God!” Lana squeals when we step inside, running to the glass sliding door that faces the beach. “This is almost better than bread!” She unlocks the door and opens it wide, letting the sea breeze float in. It sends the sheer, white drapes fluttering around the slider, and I step forward to join Lana on the little porch outside. There’s an arrangement of lounge chairs, foliage, and a massive, oversized umbrella that sweeps over the space, providing just the right amount of shade.
“Tanner said something about a fully stocked kitchen.” I look to Lana and shrug.
She runs back inside the cabana, straight to the mini kitchen. It’s complete with microwave, oven, sink, and fridge. She opens the cabinet above the stove and her eyes widen. “An, this is gourmet food. All of it. Holy crap!”
I crouch and open the tiny refrigerator, showing Lana the drink selection. There’s everything from sparkling water and fruit juices to chilled champagne. “He said we could use this place all today and tomorrow, if we want.”
“Heck yes, we want! Okay, I need to call Brie and tell her to get her butt over here. I invited her to be beach bums with us. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all. She’s sweet, I really like her.” I shut the fridge and rise, dropping my tote bag on the counter. “I’ll get us some towels.” I saunter over to the little bathroom and take some from the wicker shelf, laughing as I overhear Lana’s animated conversation with Brie. They’re yapping on about barbeque sauce, chocolate cake, and pineapple daiquiris. Lana mentions to bring an overnight bag and then ends the call, hurrying back outside to the porch. I follow her, tossing a towel onto her lap.
“Thanks,” she says, sliding on her sunglasses. “Oh, look! These stairs head right down to the beach.” She points to the opening on the porch deck, which does in fact lead straight to the sand. “This is perfect, An. I’m surprised the magazine didn’t boot the bill for one of these for us. But you know Ted, he can be such a cheapskate.”
I chuckle, picturing our boss agonizing over the travel expenses. He really has no need to agonize. He’s very well off, and the magazine is the top travel publication on the market, but he’s always had a dramatic streak. “He sure can.”
“Brie’s on her way.” Lana cracks open a water bottle and takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs. I join her. “So, let’s hear it, love! How was your night with Tanner? Are you seeing him again? I take it you are, if he gave you this!” She gestures to the cabana, flipping her red waves over her shoulder.
“It was different,” I say casually, intent on driving her mad. My expression remains indifferent, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. Lana’s too good.
She rips her sunglasses off and sits up, crossing her legs. She scoots to the edge of the lounge chair and leans forward, her shifty eyes narrowing into thin slits. “He was amazing, wasn’t he? He rocked your world, Anya Banks.” She gives me a push, poking my arm. “I’m not buying that blasé answer for one freaking minute.”
“He was okay.” I pull my legs up onto the chair and scoot back, pretending to yawn.
“Oh my God, Anya, that hickey is huge! What are you, sixteen?” She reaches over and swipes at my neck and I jump up, scrambling inside for my compact.
“Oh, I’ll kill him,” I mumble, frantically digging to the bottom of my tote. Lana’s keeling over in laughter outside, thoroughly enjoying herself.
I freeze.
“There’s no hickey.”
“Nope.”
“You sneaky bitch.”
“Serves you right! Now tell me what happened.” She crosses her arms and lifts her chin, and I throw my bag down, walking back outside to meet her.
I groan. “He was amazing.”
“I knew it. How rough was he? He’s a biter, isn’t he?”
I burst out laughing. “A biter? No, Lan.”
“Well, come on, give me something, here!”
“He was…gentle.”
Her head juts back. “What?”
“Yup. A little bossy, but very considerate. His body is…wow.” I sigh, recalling his cut, athletic build and those piercing eyes as they hovered over me.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Just goes to show you can never peg ‘em! I was sure that man was rough.”
“I’m sure he is sometimes, right?” I look at her questioningly.
“Excuse me, how would I know?”
“I don’t know, don’t you have some weird kinky radar or something? You seem to know it all when it comes to this stuff.”
“Pure instinct, my dear.” She waggles her index finger at me like a stern teacher. “That instinct just usually happens to be right on target. So, are you still doing dinner tonight? To finish the interview? I ca
n’t wait to check out your notes. This review feature is going to be solid, especially now that you’re banging the captain.”
I reach over and tap the edge of her hat. It bends down and springs back into place. “He’s not the captain.”
She opens her mouth for a snarky comeback, but she’s cut off by my phone’s ring tone. I trot inside to answer it, feeling a little butterfly flutter in my stomach when I see Tanner’s name. He couldn’t stay away for more than an hour.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I have a problem.”
My heart leaps—he sounds serious. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying to get out of here by noon, but I can’t find a number I need.”
“Okay…”
“It was on a sticky note.”
Relief sails through me. “That’s all?”
“What do you mean, that’s all? You messed with my damn sticky notes and I now I can’t find the number!” An amused giggle surfaces, and that only ticks him off more. “Anya, this is serious.”
“Sorry.” I snort. “Let me think. A number. Okay…” I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Ah! It’s yellow. Look in the yellow stack.”
He curses under his breath and the sound of paper rustling drifts over the line.
“You are aware that keeping important information on sticky notes isn’t the brightest idea, right? We have wonderful technology to keep us organized nowadays. You need to get up with the times, Mr. Christensen.”
“I don’t believe I asked you for an opinion on the matter, Miss Banks. And I sure as hell didn’t ask you to organize my desk.”
Docked Page 7
