Marina sat up as he pushed himself to his feet, watching as he walked towards the water. Tall, broad-shouldered, his legs long and muscular, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on Dean Logan’s body. When he neared the water he dragged his tee-shirt over his head, clearly defined muscles rippling beneath smooth, golden skin as he dropped the tee-shirt onto the sand.
Then he stood at the water’s edge as if looking out at the yacht, hands on hips, a lock of dark hair lifting in the breeze. After a while he waded in, and when the water reached his thighs he dived beneath the surface.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Marina held her breath for the thirty seconds he was beneath the water, only drawing oxygen when he broke the surface a long way out.
He looked back at the shore and waved, treading water.
She lifted her hand and waved back.
Then he began a slow crawl towards the beach, strokes long and even, a small splash where he broke the water with his feet.
She met him at the shoreline, board in hand, eyes watching the rivulets of water snaking down his body.
He raked back his wet hair and pulled in a deep breath. ‘Ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’
He took her hand and drew her into the water until it reached the tops of her thighs. ‘Now the first thing you need to learn is how to kick properly.’
She slid down into the water, shivered a little as her body adjusted to the cooler temperature.
‘Stretch out your arms, so you’re holding the board out in front of you, and start to kick.’
Marina did as he instructed, the water cooling her heated body.
‘Don’t bend your legs at the knees. Stretch them out and kick with your feet.’
Marina did as he said. He was right. It was easier. She began motoring through the water.
‘Keep your body straight, don’t roll from side to side.’
She kept her body straight.
‘You can breathe, your head’s not in the water.’
She was holding her breath.
She began to breathe.
‘Feet together … they’re drifting apart … good girl.’
He was a good teacher. They went from one side of the beach to the other, and when she got tired he gave her a rest, and then they started again.
When he was satisfied with her kicking, he outlined the next step. They were waist deep in water now, Marina a little puffed from the exercise.
‘Okay, I can’t stress how important it is to breathe properly, and that means putting your face in the water.’
Marina wrinkled her nose.
‘You have to. You’ll see people swimming with their head up all the time. They look like a turtle with their head out of the water. It’s ineffective, and you’ll tire easily. The only reason people swim like that is because they never learned to breathe properly.’
‘Okay.’ Marina smiled. She was actually enjoying lolling about in the water.
He tipped his head on the side and studied her with an intensity that sent her heart rate climbing even more than the exercise had. ‘Your hair’s going to be a problem. It’s getting in the way.’
‘Well, I’m not wearing a bathing cap. They look stupid, especially on people who can’t swim.’
Dean came closer and picked up her plait. ‘It wouldn’t fit under a cap. You have too much.’
She felt a pang of disappointment. ‘You don’t like my hair?’
He stopped fiddling with the plait and looked down at her. ‘I love your hair. It was one of the first things I noticed about you.’
‘I’m not allowed to cut it above a certain length. My label won’t let me.’
‘Really?’
‘My agent objected, but they insisted the clause stay in the contract.’
‘That’s very cool.’ He leaned back and considered the matter again. ‘Let’s see what we can do with it.’
He undid the band, looped her hair up and wound the tie around the top, shortening the plait to half its previous length. ‘That’s about the best I can do.’
Marina fingered her hair. ‘It feels secure enough. What should I do now?’
She was beginning to enjoy herself and, with Dean beside her and the board for floatation, her fear was receding by the minute.
‘Exactly what you’ve been doing, except this time, put your face in the water. I’ll show you.’
He sank down into the water, submerged his face, turned his head just long enough to draw in a breath, then submerged his face again.
He looked up for a few seconds and pinched his nose. ‘Got it? I’ll show you again.’
He demonstrated the action again, before standing up and flicking his hair back, spraying water everywhere.
‘You did that on purpose.’ Laughing, she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away.
‘Hey! No abusing the teacher.’
He cupped her face between his hands and Marina’s heart rate skyrocketed. She closed her eyes, parted her lips in anticipation of his kiss.
‘Oh, no you don’t.’ He laughed and turned her head gently to one side. When she opened her eyes she was looking at the rocky cliff.
‘Turn your head just enough so you can take a breath.’
‘Ohhhh.’
He turned her so she was looking at him again, eyes shining with a playfulness she hadn’t seen before. ‘Then back in the water.’
He turned her toward the cliff again. ‘Take a breath.’
She took a breath.
He turned her straight again. ‘Then back in the water. Got it?’
She nodded.
He leaned forward, planted a quick kiss on her forehead then lowered his hands. ‘Just look to one side for now and hang onto the board. We’re not going to worry about your arms this lesson.’
Marina liked the sound of that.
More lessons to come.
‘Start your kicking, and when you feel ready put your face in the water.’
Determined to be an outstanding student because that was her nature, Marina began kicking again. Dean held onto the front of the board and walked backwards. After a while, she harnessed her courage and put her face in. Water rushed into her ears, muffling all sound except the vibrations from their bodies. She turned her face to the side, took a quick breath, and stopped kicking.
Her feet sank to the sand.
‘Don’t stop.’ Dean kept dragging the board forward, so she had to bring her feet off the sandy bottom and start kicking again.
‘Keep up the same thing you’ve been doing. That’s it. Face in, face out.’
Marina’s heart thumped from the effort and though her legs were growing tired, she pushed on, wanting to get it right.
***
Dean raised his voice so she could hear him. ‘Face in, breathe, face in, breathe.’
She was doing incredibly well for someone who’d never had a formal lesson, and Dean’s heart swelled with pride and admiration at her gutsy effort. But she was tiring now, her kick slowing, and it wouldn’t be long before his determined little student had to give it away.
It happened right then. She lost her rhythm, was too slow closing her mouth and gulped in a mouth full of sea water.
She stood up, coughing and spluttering and gasping for air as water poured from her nose.
‘Oh, yuk!’
She pinched her nose, wiped the water from her eyes and sniffed a few times. ‘That’s gross.’
He laughed and let the board go, sinking down into the water and drifting closer to her. ‘It’s good for you. It’ll clean out your sinuses.’
She made a face, droplets of water clinging to her long lashes, her eyes greener than the Mediterranean. The canary yellow of the bikini set off the darkness of her hair, while the curve of her breasts in the stretchy halter-style top set off carnal thoughts in his head.
He’d given her a good workout. After the episode on the beach they’d both needed to work off some sexual energy, otherwise he would have abandoned the lesson, raced her
back to the yacht and spent their free hour making love to her in his stateroom.
He’d wanted to.
She’d wanted it too.
Recalling her disappointment, he took hold of her hand and tugged her to him. She floated onto his knees, the water making her bounce a little in his lap.
A hit of pure lust sent him instantly hard, harder again when she held onto his shoulders, one soft breast pressing into his chest.
Dean couldn’t have stopped himself even if he’d wanted to. Sliding his hands under her thighs, he lifted her up and turned her around so she was facing him, leaving her no option but to wrap her legs around his hips.
She gasped at the intimate contact, wet body sliding over his, hardened nipples grazing his chest through the drenched material of her bikini top.
He turned his back on the yacht and moved into slightly deeper water. She tightened her hold on him, legs gripping his hips with a surprising strength. He wondered what made him think he could keep his hands off her until they made it back to the Orion.
She rested her forehead on his. ‘Have we finished the lesson?’
‘Baby, I’m just getting started.’
He pressed soft kisses to her lips, pausing every now and then to lick the salt from her mouth. When she moaned a little, he deepened the kiss, his mouth eager to reacquaint itself with hers.
A small wave rolled in, the buoyancy of the water forcing him to adjust his stance. He regained his balance, couldn’t help his erection pressing into the apex of her thighs.
She gasped, lifted her head and rested her forehead against his. ‘Doesn’t feel like you need to compensate for anything.’
Her frank words sent more blood heading south, and all he could think about was having her naked in his bed, her back arching as he slid between her soft, silky thighs.
He tugged on the back tie of her bikini top. ‘Can I take this off?’
She blushed, smiled and pressed her lips against his.
‘I’ll take that as a “yes”. He pulled on the tie. The bra top floated to the surface and then the full lushness of her breasts pressed against his chest.
‘Oh God.’ Her voice quivered. ‘That feels wonderful.’
He smiled, undid the tie at her nape and tossed the garment in the general vicinity of where the kickboard was floating. ‘I figured if you couldn’t swim, you wouldn’t have discovered the delights of European bathing.’
‘It’s indescribable.’ She smiled, breasts two white globes floating on the surface of the water. ‘Having nothing between your skin and the sea.’
‘That’s what I reckon. It’s natural.’
He raised his hand and cupped one achingly beautiful breast beneath the surface. She trembled, closed her eyes and parted her lips. He bent his head, kissed her, sweeping his tongue into the hot interior of her mouth as his thumb stroked a nipple already rigid from the cold.
Jesus!
He slid his hands beneath her thighs, fighting the urge to grind the hard edge of his erection against another hot spot where he longed to be. ‘Turn around, or I’m not going to be responsible for what happens here.’
She uncurled her legs and he held her waist as she swivelled in the water. Pulling her back against his chest, he used his arm to keep her from floating away and trailed a line of kisses down her neck. She shivered, rested her head against his shoulder, drew in a sharp breath as he stroked her other breast with his free hand.
‘Dean …’
The need in her voice had his brain fogging over. He was rigid against her peachy bottom, the one he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since he’d pulled down some purple lace knickers and jabbed her with the needle.
No.
It had started earlier, in the Mercurial, hips swaying in white jeans as she walked away from him.
Instant attraction.
A recognition.
Fate?
He followed the fragile line of her collarbone, kissing, sucking gently, nipping a little every now and then until she whimpered and quivered in his arms. Wanting to make it good for her, he released her breast, spanned his hand across her smooth stomach and swirled his index finger around her bellybutton. He drew circles on her skin, moving lower and lower, teasing her with each sweep until her body began to alternate between restlessness and tense anticipation. Finally, she arched her hips to meet his descending hand, making it easy for him to slide his fingers under the elastic and reach into her bikini bottoms.
Dean stilled, and his eyes flew open in surprise.
A European wax?
His body hardened to the point of pain.
Jesus! What a surprise from the classical violinist!
‘Oh god!’ She moaned the words, gasping as he found the spot he was seeking.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. ‘Relax, honey.’
Despite the water she was hot at her core, the slickness between her thighs evident by the smooth glide of his fingers. With her body concealed by water he was working blind, discovering her fascinating contours by touch alone. It didn’t take long to bring her to the brink, so he eased off before he sent her over the edge, experimenting with the pressure of his fingers, learning how she liked to be stroked—when she liked it fast, or preferred it slow.
But it was all new, and she didn’t last long. Too soon, she was biting down on her bottom lip, her breath coming in short little pants, her head restless against his shoulder. And then her back arched, body contracting as a powerful orgasm engulfed her.
He held her through the contractions, kissing her temple, the side of her hair, her smooth cheek. Anyone watching from the yacht would be able to see their heads bobbing in the water and realise Marina was in his arms. That was okay, as long as they weren’t aware of what was going on beneath the surface.
He stroked her down, heart pounding, blood surging, his own body on the brink of release. Then, when she drew her legs together, he slipped his hand from that magical place between her thighs, and let her quieten.
When she finally opened her eyes, he tilted her face up to his and kissed her a long thank you. Her lips clung to his, cool, salty, the lingering tenderness suggesting she was feeling something more than lust.
Was he?
They’d known each other a matter of days, though the time had been intense. And in Taormina, he’d been hell-bent on finding out exactly who the big guy with the beard was, and in turn, she’d asked him about Julia, making it quite clear she couldn’t get caught up in any messy love triangle.
He thought of the words she’d used when they’d discussed her hair. My label, my contract, my agent.
She was a star of the classical world, public property with an image to protect. There were management teams and agents advising her, probably micro managing every aspect of her career, and all the while making a tidy living for themselves.
He, by contrast, had a fortune to protect and a new yacht to build. But aside from the dubious tag of ‘eligible bachelor’, his private life was his own. He managed his own career, and answered to no-one.
He had to face it. As gorgeous as Marina was, this romantic interlude would only work in the short term. With conflicting schedules and professional commitments they were sure to be on different sides of the globe most of the time.
And he’d seen firsthand the carnage a navy life had brought to his parents. He’d never inflict that kind of long separation on anyone, didn’t think he could handle it himself.
Pushing that grim thought from his mind, he kissed Marina’s cheek and set her on her feet, held her at arm’s length when she turned around.
Eyes still dark with arousal, she leaned over and pressed her soft lips against his chest. ‘What about you?’
Considerate as well.
Before she could go on, he took hold of her hand and began wading towards the shore.
‘Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll keep.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Leave the tender out.’ Dean tossed Al
ain the bow line as they arrived back at the Orion. ‘We might need it again.’
Marina’s heart sank at the stark reminder. For a magical hour and a half she’d locked her potential meeting with Victor in a corner of her mind. Now, as Alain grasped her hand and helped her on board, the possibility loomed with all the menace of an electrical storm on a sunny day.
His hand was cold, and Marina let go the moment she was on deck. ‘Thanks.’
His expressionless face and pale blue eyes made her uneasy. She suspected he was a man who said little, and saw a lot.
‘You’re welcome.’
Shivering a little in her swimsuit, she managed to get two buckles on her life jacket undone by the time Dean climbed aboard. Despite the yacht being a short distance from the beach, he’d insisted she wear it.
‘Let’s meet in half an hour.’ He undid the last buckle, slid the jacket from her shoulders and passed it to Alain.
‘How much time do we have?’
He checked his dive watch as she wrapped a towel around her shoulders. ‘Ship docks in under an hour. I’ll get Danika to bring food to the saloon.’
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, and as she turned away she heard him instructing Alain to top up the fuel in the tender.
Marina hurried towards her stateroom wondering if the younger staff members knew of the difficulties facing the company, and of her own innocent involvement. According to Danika, she and Alain were the only full-time staff employed on the Orion, with Rask doubling as an extra pair of hands when needed.
Back in her room, she ran a hot shower and peeled off her bikini in front of the mirror. She smiled a little as she undid the top. Only ten minutes ago Dean had been helping her back into it.
She stepped out of her bikini bottoms and tossed them into the shower cubicle. Initially, she’d thought it a pity she and Dean had met in such diabolical circumstances, but now she was thankful. They’d discovered so much about each other in a short period of time, learned to trust each other with the truth.
Now they were joining forces to bring down a common foe.
She turned on the water and stepped beneath the spray. At a personal level, they hadn’t played games or sidestepped around their attraction. They’d acknowledged it, and been honest with each other. When the time came to admit she couldn’t swim, she’d had the confidence to do it.
A Dangerous Arrangement Page 15
