Chapter 3 #2
Knowing what she knew about Theo, and not just his well-documented tabloid sexploits over the years but first-hand knowledge of his appetites, she was also impressed.
He had been hiding away on a boat, though, so how hard had it really been?
‘I guess it’s an easy dare to take up,’ she goaded. ‘I mean, how exactly is it being policed? How is Ari to know if you break it?’
‘It’s an honour thing,’ he ground out, his blue eyes unwavering on hers.
‘So if you break it, you, what? Confess?’
His brows pulled down. ‘I won’t break it. But… yes. I gave my word. We shook hands. That’s how honour works.’
There was derision in his voice, like he was pissed at having to explain integrity, and now it was Tiffany’s turn to be impressed. Her gaze sought out any disingenuity in his implacable expression but there was none to be found.
Tiffany had known honourable men in her life. Some of the old stock men she’d worked with were ethical to their core. But she’d also known men who pretended to be honourable who acted differently when no one was watching. Her father being the prime example.
So, she knew the difference. And Theo, she believed.
Still, it had been a while for him. He must be feeling it?
Emboldened and a little bit turned on by how tightly strung he must be right now, Tiffany ambled closer, trying not to think about how quickly she could get him off or wonder how much resistance he’d put up if she dropped to her knees and reached for his zipper.
Because he wanted her. She could see that. And she wanted him. With the same kind of desperation and inevitability she’d felt the first time they’d laid eyes on each other.
Would he beg her to put her mouth around him? Would he wrap her hair around his fist and guide her? Would he groan her name as he came down her throat the way he’d done in that hotel room?
Theo didn’t back up but as she neared, she could see his jaw working. ‘What exactly does this no-sex dare involve?’
Sex was a fairly broad activity, after all. Did it disallow fellatio? Or self-love? Drawing to a halt, a foot between them, she tipped her head back slightly to look him in the eye. ‘Are there some guidelines?’
‘No kissing. No nudity. No penetration.’
‘No kissing?’ Tiffany’s gaze drifted to his full mouth momentarily before drifting back to meet his gaze. ‘But that can be so harmless.’
‘Not with me, it’s not.’
It was a breathtakingly arrogant statement that she could back 100 per cent.
The way he’d looked at her with such singularity and flirted with her so outrageously at the wedding had been exceptionally hot, but the second his mouth had taken hers against the back door of that hotel room, she was a goner.
Just the thought of it now made her hotter than she should be if she wanted to keep control of this conversation. Time to get back on track. ‘So… it’s been a couple of months, right? Is that why you want me off the boat? Afraid you’ll crack, Theo?’
The knowledge was as dizzying as his cologne – aniseed and sea spray – the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly at the prospect that this rich, capable, commanding guy, who could probably have any woman in the world he set his sights on, saw her as a threat.
Meeting her eye, he smiled. Not with humour but with derision, his gaze cool now, the smoulder that had flared like a pilot light as she’d walked towards him firmly doused. ‘I have full confidence in my self-control, Tiffany.’
She liked the way he said her name. Just a hint of an accent in his otherwise polished English. She’d invited him to shorten it but instead he stretched the double f like he was savouring it, rolling it around his mouth and enjoying the taste.
‘Good then. Me being here shouldn’t be an issue.’
‘No issue,’ he muttered as he fingered a tress of her loose chestnut hair.
Tiffany went deathly still as Theo’s gaze homed in on it and he twined the lock around his finger.
It might as well have been a loop of her intestine the way her gut clenched at the intimacy.
‘How’s your self-control?’ he asked, glancing from his finger to her face, his voice so rough it was like the scrape of sandpaper along her bare arms.
‘Rest assured, Theo, I’m not here to tempt you.’
Which was not what he’d asked, but Tiffany wasn’t sure she could answer honestly without passing over a lot of power. And Theo Callisthenes was already powerful enough.
‘I’m here to do a job. That’s it. You need a croupier, and I’m very good at what I do.’
As he tugged his finger free, Tiffany’s hair unspooled into a perfect curl. ‘Isn’t this boat a little small for you?’
Tiffany almost rolled her eyes. Why were men always so obsessed with size? She shrugged instead with as much nonchalance as was possible given their closeness and the way his cologne reminded her of how it had clung to her skin as she’d crept out of his hotel bed.
‘I’m after something a little different,’ she said.
‘I thought you loved working on the big ships.’
She had. And had told him so at the wedding. And then suddenly, she hadn’t. ‘I’ve been doing it a long time and I just feel…’ She shook her head, her hair ruffling around her face. ‘Restless, I suppose.’
‘Yeah.’ His blue eyes met her hazel. ‘I know the feeling.’ Another long pause followed, their gazes fully locked. ‘Dare aside, Tiffany, I don’t screw the crew.’
Was it wrong to be a little turned on by that phrase? Did that make her a terrible person? ‘Excellent.’ She nodded. ‘Because I don’t screw the boss.’
Not twice anyway.
‘Okay then.’ He held out his hand. ‘Welcome aboard the Nerida .’
Tiffany shook perfunctorily, the zap of warmth up her arm warning her it might not all be calm sailing ahead…