by Holly Rayner
The walls were wood-paneled, and white chairs and couches were bolted into the floor and built into the walls. It looked like the waiting room at a fancy men’s clothing store, and if it wasn’t for the slight swaying, I wouldn’t have realized I was on a boat at all.
I walked across the room and through a glass sliding door to stand on the deck. I could see the water fifteen or more feet below me, but I did my best not to focus on it. If I didn’t look at it, I couldn’t have flashbacks. I couldn’t panic and throw up. I couldn’t embarrass myself in front of Julien just as things between us had started getting good again.
I walked slowly across the deck, replaying the night before in my head to give me courage. Julien throwing his head back and singing with abandon, somehow managing not to hit a single note I’d asked him to. It had been nice to see him fail at something. And it had been even nicer to see him fail at something, but still have the absolute best time. He didn’t seem to mind that he was making a fool out of himself, and that was incredibly attractive.
Heat moved across my chest as I remembered his hand against my wrist, how close I’d been to stretching up on my tip-toes and kissing him. It would have been so easy to let him kiss me, to give myself over to the moment.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be another girl on his long list. I didn’t want to be someone who fell for him and ended up heartbroken. I had to look out for myself. So, I’d pulled away—and it had been the right choice, but certainly not the easiest choice.
“You look like a siren,” Julien said with a low whistle, looking me up and down, admiring the lacy white sundress I’d selected on for the occasion. My hair was twisted into a low bun at my neck to keep it out of my face. “If you weren’t already on my yacht, I’d be willing to crash it just to get to you.”
I knew it was meant as a compliment, but talk of crashing the yacht sent a chill down my spine. But before I could give myself over to panic, Julien pulled me into his side, wrapping his arm around me in a loose hug. As he did, the fear that had clenched my stomach seemed to relax a bit.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Suddenly, despite all of my fears, I was glad I was there, too.
The crew scurried off in every direction and Julien led me to the front of the yacht where two lounge chairs were stretched out across the deck, an ice bucket sitting between them with a bottle of champagne sunk down into it. He poured each of us a glass and we toasted to a lovely evening.
After two glasses of champagne, my empty stomach was becoming even more noticeable. I felt lightheaded and tingly.
Just in the nick of time, a member of the crew brought out a platter of canapés. I shoved three of them in my mouth within a minute, barely tasting the crunchy bread or savory spread, but just trying to soak up some of the alcohol and clear my head. I could see Julien watching me out of the corner of his eye with a slight smile, but he didn’t mention my ravenous appetite, and I was grateful.
My head began to clear, and Julien asked me about college and the theater productions I’d been in. All in all, I’d sung in almost every popular musical from the last fifty or so years.
“Mon Dieu,” he said, eyebrows raised. “How did you have time for all of that?”
“I did plays with the college, the local community center, and my hometown’s community center in the summer. I loved being on stage.”
And it was true. I’d always been a little shy with other people, but being on stage, putting on a different persona—that was easy. When I was on stage, in front of the lights and the crowd, everything made sense.
“Are you the same way with being a hotelier? Or racing or building yachts? Do you love doing all of that?”
“I do,” he said, furrowing his brow as though he’d never thought about it before. “It may sound bad, but I like being in control. I like making sure things run smoothly in the hotels and that the yachts I produce are made with the best materials and by the most skilled engineers. And I love the way it feels to steer a hunk of metal around curves and bends while driving hundreds of kilometers per hour.”
Listening to him talk, I began to realize that, despite my fears over where we were, I was having a good time. Something about being near him made me feel safe. Quietly and without notice, my anxiety had just ebbed away.
“It’s not a bad thing to be self-aware,” I said. “It’s good to know what you want out of life.”
He looked at me, and it felt different. His eyes were dark and focused. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, and I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Before I could ask, the music I’d forgotten was playing over the yacht’s speakers went quiet and then began again. This time, the song was slow and easy.
Julien smiled and then stood up. He held a hand out to me.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked. “I believe you owe me.”
Remembering that night at the after-party left me flushed. I’d been having a good time getting to know Julien, and then I’d let Geneviève ruin everything. She’d gotten into my head, and instead of asking Julien his intentions or going after what I wanted, I’d left. I’d run away.
This time, however, I wouldn’t run away.
I reached out and took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. He walked me to an open area of the deck, wrapped his right hand around my left, and then placed his left hand at my waist. We stepped to the beat, our bodies moving closer together with every turn, and I wondered how it could be possible to miss something I’d never had. I missed dancing with him.
I realized that every slow dance I’d ever had before this one hadn’t been real. Not with Jonathan on one of our first dates—to a jazz club—or with any of my boyfriends at high school dances. Spinning with Julien on the deck of his yacht was the first time I’d ever truly danced with a man. And it was wonderful.
I looked up at him, my lashes fluttering, and couldn’t believe how ridiculously stunning he was. I’d never thought a man was stunning before, but Julien was an honest-to-God work of art.
“I’m sorry for what happened at the party the other night,” he said, looking over my shoulder, eyes unfocused.
I hadn’t told him what Geneviève had said or what Alain had implied about him flirting with other women, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
“Thanks for giving me another chance, though,” he said, finally focusing on me. His hand squeezed mine, holding me tight. “I’m glad you didn’t get on that flight yesterday.”
“I am, too,” I said. I still didn’t know how to talk to him about the party or my insecurities, but I knew I was glad to have had these two days with him in Monaco.
He took a step towards me, our chests pressed together, and the fondness I’d been feeling a second before began to shift into panic. The way he was looking at me, the way he was moving towards me—I knew he would kiss me. And while that thought would have been appealing to me a few days before, in that moment, I wasn’t sure what I wanted.
Julien closed his eyes and tipped his head towards me, and I didn’t think or plan; I just reacted. I pulled my hand out of his grasp and jumped backwards. His eyes popped open, his lips parted in a surprised “O.”
Something hit me hard in the lower back, and before I had a chance to realize what it was, gravity seemed to shift. I was tilting up and over. Julien shouted, but I didn’t seem capable of stopping whatever force had a hold on me.
It wasn’t until I was looking down at the water, the waves growing closer and closer, that I realized I had fallen overboard. I was about to plunge into the ocean.
The moment I had dreaded for years had arrived. I’d woken up drenched in sweat from nightmares where I was pushed into the ocean, but now, it had happened, and I felt oddly calm. My mind was entirely blank except for a few facts. One, the water was cold. Two, I didn’t know which way was up. And three, Julien had tried to kiss me.
I began kicking my feet, fighting to get back to the surface so I could breathe, but my lo
ng dress kept getting tangled around my legs, making it hard for me to move. I tried to open my eyes to see where the yacht was, but the salt burned my eyes and the water around me was filled with bubbles from my thrashing.
As seconds passed without oxygen, I began to lose hope, and panic began to set in.
And then, I felt a strong arm hook around my waist.
Chapter 15
Julien
The music was soft and slow. Ashlynn smelled like vanilla and flowers, and her hand was warm and small in mine. I’d wanted to be close to her like this for so long, and now, it was happening, and she wasn’t panicking. The night before, I’d wanted to kiss her so badly, but I’d known the time wasn’t right.
Now, however, it felt right. Everything was perfect.
I closed my eyes and leaned down, and then, she was gone.
By the time I realized Ashlynn was tipping backwards over the side of the yacht, there was nothing I could do to stop it. Immediately, I whipped my shirt off, called out to any nearby member of the crew for help, and then dove in after her. Growing up near the ocean, I’d been a great swimmer my entire life. I could tread for hours and navigate the waves and undertows. But I didn’t know about Ashlynn. For all I knew, she didn’t even know how to swim.
The water was icy, and it took my breath away. But when I came up for air, I couldn’t see Ashlynn. She still hadn’t surfaced. Panic roared like a lion in my mind, but I pushed it back and began searching for her, my arms swirling through the water, hoping to feel even a strand of hair. Thankfully, I found her on the second swipe. My hand touched what felt like an arm. I dove down, wrapped an arm around her middle, and swam for the surface.
She broke through the water face-first, her head tipped back, skin pale and slightly blue.
“Are you okay?” I asked, breathless.
She blinked and coughed but didn’t answer me.
I held onto her, one hand wrapped firmly around her waist, while members of the crew ran around on deck, throwing down life vests and flotation devices. I threw Ashlynn over one of the paddle boards and kicked us to the back of the boat where we could climb up the ladder. She still hadn’t spoken a word to me—probably in shock, I assumed—but she was able to haul herself up the ladder.
Her white dress had gone sheer and clung to her body, but I did my best not to look. She reached the top of the ladder and fell into the nearest bench. A few members of the crew had already gathered towels and blankets and mugs of hot tea, and we gratefully accepted all of it.
When the crew finally dispersed, I sat down on the cushion next to Ashlynn. She hadn’t said anything since coming out of the water and I was worried she was in shock.
I leaned towards her, bumping her arm with my shoulder in a show of—hopefully—friendly concern. “Are you okay?”
She turned towards me. Her skin was still pale, but the color had returned to her lips. They were pink and full, and I watched as they turned up in the tiniest of smiles.
And then, she was kissing me.
It took me a second to realize what had happened. That Ashlynn had leaned towards me, wrapped a hand around my neck, and pulled me towards her. Once I did realize it, though, I threw my arms around her waist and held her against me. Our lips slanted across one another, skipping past the timid, shy stage and going straight for hungry.
Her fingers tangled in the wet hair at the base of my neck and drew circles across my shoulders. I did my best to control myself, keeping my hands on her back. I’d wanted this since the moment I’d met her, and now, it was happening, but I didn’t completely understand. She’d practically jumped into the ocean rather than kiss me ten minutes before, but now, I was worried she’d pass out from forgetting to breathe while we were kissing. Though, I decided, that wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.
I couldn’t say how long we stayed tangled up that way, but when we finally pulled apart, her lips were red and swollen, and her green eyes were bright. They looked even more vivid set into her still-pale skin.
I rested my forehead against hers and she giggled, brushing a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
We wrapped ourselves in the towels and moved inside. Curled up on the sofa, Ashlynn was twisted into a ball and at my side, my arm thrown around her shoulders.
“Well, this was a much more interesting evening than I had planned,” I said, smiling and shaking my head. “Though, not all bad.”
Ashlynn laughed. “No, not all bad.”
“For a second there, I thought we might have to rush you back to shore,” I said. “You were almost catatonic.”
“I think I was in a bit of shock. It may seem crazy to someone who owns a yacht, but that was the first time I’ve been in the ocean or any other body of water since I was seven.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “Swimming pool?”
She shook her head.
“Lake?”
She shook it again.
“Bathtub?” I asked, incredulous.
“I prefer showers,” she said with a shy smile.
“Why? I mean, I don’t mean to sound judgmental. I’m just surprised.”
“It’s okay. I know it’s not exactly normal,” she said. “But I had a pretty bad near-drowning experience when I was a kid.”
I kept my arm around her shoulders while she explained going to the beach with her family as a kid, swimming out into open water without realizing it, and getting caught in the undertow.
“There are grown adults who don’t have the energy to stay above the water,” I said. “You were very brave.”
“That may be true, but I haven’t been very brave for the last twenty-five years,” she said. “I almost didn’t come to Monaco at all because I was afraid of flying over the ocean.”
“But come you did,” I said, running my thumb along her knuckles, realizing just how glad I was that she’d managed to face her fears. “And you agreed to get on my yacht. I never would have suggested it if you’d told me you were so afraid.”
“I don’t tell many people. I don’t want to be defined by my fears,” she said. Then, she smiled and then bit her lower lip. “Plus, my attraction to you completely overrode my fear. When I agreed to come here, I was so focused on spending time with you that I didn’t even think about being on the water until later, when I was alone in my hotel room.”
I smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that my good looks helped you face your fears?”
“There’s that famous confidence shining through,” she said, laughing.
I reached out and cupped her chin in my palm, brushing my fingers across her skin. The ocean had wiped her makeup away, but I didn’t think she’d ever looked prettier. Slowly, I leaned forward, still half-expecting her to jerk away from me. But she didn’t. Our lips brushed softly and then I pulled back, savoring the smell of her, the warmth flowing from her skin.
“My dress is dripping on your sofa,” she said, so close to me her lips brushed against my cheek.
“Oh,” I said, pulling away from her. “I can find you something else to wear.”
She grabbed the towel around my neck and pulled me back down to her level, looking into my eyes with an intensity I hadn’t seen from her before.
“Or, I could lay it out to dry.”
My mind fogged over with confusion for just a moment before I understood. I didn’t think my heart had ever beat harder than in that moment.
“Lay it out to dry?” I repeated, looking at her from beneath my brows, wanting to make completely sure we were on the same page.
She bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be nice.”
I could hardly believe what was happening as I grabbed her hand and led her through the living room, down the narrow hallway, and into my cabin. The bed sat in the center of the room, framed in mahogany wood and bolted down to the floor. The rest of the room was rather minimalist—white curtains, a plush white rug, built-in shelves on either side of the bed that served as end tables.
Ashlyn
n stepped into the room and let her damp towel fall on the floor. Her dress wasn’t as sheer as it had been when she’d first come out of the water, but it was still possible to see the ghost of her curves through the thin material. I slid the wooden door shut and flipped the lock.
I’d always known Ashlynn was an artist. From the first time I’d heard her sing, it was clear she had talent. Her voice was like a kind of poetry.
As it turned out, her body was the same way. She seemed to move to a rhythm I couldn’t hear but was desperate to listen to. Every breath, every touch had a purpose.
We made love until late into the night, and Ashlynn didn’t let a second of it go to waste.
Chapter 16
Ashlynn
The room was bright white when I woke up. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, leaving large, square patches of sun on the plush carpet and across the bed. I stretched my arms over my head, trying to remember the last time I’d slept so well. I wasn’t sure whether it was because Julien’s bed was comfortable, or because I’d spent most of the night curled up against the warmth of his side, his arm wrapped around me.
The night we’d spent together was unforgettable. Of course, nearly drowning in the ocean for the second time in my life was noteworthy, but everything that had come after that meant so much more. Julien was gentle and caring. He’d touched me as if he wanted to memorize the lines of my face, the curve of my hips.
I ran my fingers across my lips, trying to remember the feeling of his against mine, not wanting to ever forget the sensation of touching him. It had been the most romantic night of my life.
Jonathan had never been one for romance. He would tell me I was pretty and buy me gifts on appropriate occasions, but I’d never felt like he was out of his mind in love with me. I’d never felt like I could drive him crazy.
But with Julien, I felt sexy. I felt powerful. He made me feel amazing about myself, which was something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
