Chapter 3
Chapter Three
T he moment the yacht owner with the film-star looks and come to bed eyes turned and headed for the bar, Jade collapsed back onto the sofa. Holy fuck. He’d remembered her name. And he’d offered to buy her a drink . She wasn’t so stupid that she couldn’t read a come-on when she saw it. Sure, he had her down as easy, but the fact was, she, Jade Taylor, had attracted the attention of a seriously hot-looking guy who owned a seriously expensive-looking boat.
‘Not so trashy, after all,’ she murmured to herself, wishing Paul (second from last boyfriend) was here to witness it.
She’d meant what she’d told Daisy, she was off men, but that didn’t have to mean she couldn’t have a bit of fun flirting with a totally unsuitable guy. As long as the guy made her feel better about herself, not worse. That was her new rule. It should have been a frigging rule from day one, but somehow she’d missed making it and ended up with men who put her down, made her feel stupid or cheap.
She’d like to bet Mr Yacht had a whole playbook of ways to make her feel better. It didn’t take much imagination to picture those smoky grey eyes locked on hers as he ran his long, tanned fingers up her legs, before deftly trailing them between her thighs…
‘One Nantucket Sea Breeze.’
Flushing at her very unladylike thoughts, she accepted the mouth-watering red drink, clinking with ice, topped with a wedge of lime.
‘And one towel.’ He handed over a white tea cloth, and as his gaze captured hers her belly swooped.
‘To pat me dry?’
A pair of steel-grey eyes seared hers. ‘Are you asking me?’
Frigging hell. Why was the thought of him doing that, smoothing the towel over her body, making her feel even wetter? And she’d like to bet he wouldn’t actually do it smoothly. She sensed he would be… rough. Deliciously, just the right side of dirty, rough.
He let out a low groan. ‘Jade?’
Crap. She shook off the fantasy, tugged the towel out of his hand and made a mental note to ease off the steamy books for a while. ‘Sorry, thanks.’
Hooded eyes watched her carefully as she ran the towel over her damp dress. What was he thinking? Did he want to be the one holding the towel as much as she wanted him to? Maybe abandoning the towel and licking her clean with his tongue…
Suddenly her blood felt too hot, her pulse too fast.
No, no, no. She was here to work, to be taken seriously, for God’s sake. Not fall into bed with the first guy she saw. Even though he was unbelievably hot.
‘I’ll give more than a penny for them.’ When she jerked her head up to give him a puzzled look, a small smile crossed his face. ‘Your thoughts.’
She felt a blush scorch her cheeks. ‘Er, definitely not worth the money. You’d be better investing it in one of those games at the arcade, you know, where the penny falls onto the level below and eventually, if you’re lucky, when you’ve pushed a dozen of the damn things into the slot, you might get a couple back.’ When he continued to stare at her, she felt the blush deepen. ‘Maybe you don’t have them over here. They’re called Penny Falls, or Coin Pusher, or—’ Shut up Jade!!! ‘Anyway. Now you can see why you totally overvalued my thoughts.’
‘Quarters.’ His eyes continued to assess her, like he was trying to work her out. ‘We have them over here and feed them with quarters.’
‘Ah, okay, good. I’m glad we cleared that up.’
‘It was probably a safer topic of conversation.’ The knowing look he gave her sent prickles racing across her skin and she had to force herself to remember to breathe.
‘Yes.’ She cleared her throat and poked around in her brain for something to say that wouldn’t send her thoughts down an X-rated avenue again. ‘Okay, then… er, I don’t even know your name.’
‘Liam.’ His voice was so deep, it gave an extra sexy sizzle to his name.
‘Okay, then, Liam, you own a yacht here and you recognise the smell of a Sea Breeze cocktail. I guess you come here often?’ Amusement glinted in the silver grey of his eyes and she realised what she’d said. ‘Oh God, that’s the cheesiest chat-up line in history.’
He gave her a long, searching look. ‘Are you trying to flirt with me?’
Thump, thump went her heart, and she couldn’t work out if it was nerves, or arousal. But nerves wouldn’t create this squirmy feeling between her legs. ‘I don’t know.’
Silence fell between them, heavy with awareness. She was conscious that he was still standing, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of whisky. Long, elegant fingers wrapped casually around it. Stop imagining those hands on you .
‘To answer your earlier question, I’m a frequent visitor here, yes.’
He’d not taken the bait she’d unwittingly laid down. She pushed aside the disappointment. It was better this way. No flirting, just some company to help her feel less lonely on her first night. ‘Maybe you could give me some tips for things to do while I’m here? I’ve read every guidebook I could get my hands on, but I could use some inside knowledge.’
‘Sure.’ He nodded towards the sofa. ‘Mind if I join you?’
‘As long as you don’t mind the smell of fermented cranberry juice.’
A small smile tilted his lips as he slid effortlessly beside her, crossing one leg over the other in a move that seemed smooth and practiced. And yet… the edge she’d sensed in him earlier was still there. She smelt it in the unexpected kick of spice in his aftershave, saw it in the taut bulge of bicep beneath the sleeves of his T-shirt, the smattering of dark hair on his thighs. The callouses she’d felt on his palm as he’d handed her the drink. A sense of rough, of coarse, beneath the polish.
The rough didn’t extend to his lips though, she thought with a jolt as her eyes settled involuntarily on his mouth. On closer inspection they looked soft, sensual. It was easy to imagine them sliding across her skin, over her nipples.
‘You smell intoxicating.’ Hooded grey eyes met and held hers. ‘I imagine you taste even better.’
Holy moly. Her heart clattered against her rib cage. ‘I… um, if that’s you trying to beat my corny line, it’s a terrible attempt.’
He shifted, the tanned forearm that had rested so close to hers, now stretched across the back of the sofa. ‘Clearly, I’m out of practice.’
Oh, my God, was he interested? ‘I don’t think you need it. To be honest, you had me at the yacht.’ He stilled, and belatedly she realised how that must have come across. ‘Oh, God, that was meant to be a joke, you know, Jerry Maguire …’ She hung her head, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. ‘I told you I was terrible at this. Way to seduce a hot guy, Jade. First barge onto his boat, then sit next to him smelling of rotting fruit juice and finally insult him by implying he’s only attractive because he has a big boat. And no, that wasn’t a euphemism. Not that I think you don’t have a big… I mean I’m sure you do have… Oh fuckity fuck.’ Beyond embarrassed now, she rose to her feet. ‘Clearly, it’s time I called it a night. Thanks for the drink and sorry about my word vomit. I wish I could blame the cocktail, but unless it’s absorbed through the skin I think that was all me.’
‘Wait.’ His hand wrapped round her arm, giving it a gentle tug until she dropped back onto the sofa. ‘ Are you trying to seduce me?’
Her tongue felt too big for her mouth, the words she wanted to say getting stuck as his inscrutable gaze raked hers. ‘I think I was, or at least I was trying to flirt with you, which is probably a dumb idea but I’m the queen of dumb ideas.’ His eyes narrowed, leaving her feeling unbalanced. She wished she was as good at hiding her thoughts as he was. ‘It would help me hugely if you said something now because your face is kind of hard to read.’
His gaze went from cool grey to so inferno-hot, it scorched her insides. ‘If you could read my thoughts, you’d be scared.’
Her heart thumped, but she ignored it and raised her chin. ‘I don’t scare easily. Try me.’
‘Are you sure? Because for what I’m about to say to you, I need you to be really, really sure.’
Arousal burned through her. It didn’t matter that getting tangled with a guy on her first night was the last she needed. She felt achy, giddy with lust. Just uncomfortable enough that it felt exciting. The thrill that came with being naughty. ‘I’m sure.’
The air between them fizzed with an energy that was pure sexual tension. ‘I’m wondering what it would be like to take you back to my boat and fuck you where I first laid eyes on you.’
Holy shit. Yet there was something very honest about the crude words. It left her in no doubt about what she would be letting herself in for if their flirtation was to go any further. Not a romantic encounter, or the start of a holiday fling. Just a raw, take-it-or-leave-it offer of sex.
And it was electrifying.
‘Should I go on?’
She needed to say no. What had begun as a flirtation had gone wildly out of control. But when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out. Instead, the images of them together shimmied through her mind, and as the heat of his gaze skated across her hypersensitised skin it felt like he was touching her, everywhere.
‘I’ve also thought of ripping that damp dress off you,’ he continued, clearly taking her silence for the encouragement it was. ‘Running my hands over your slick, soapy curves as I help you clean off in my shower. Then, because I won’t be able to stop myself, I’d carry you up to the top deck and fuck you again under the stars.’
Between her legs the ache he’d created was so intense she had to squeeze her thighs together. What on earth was she supposed to do? She’d come here on a three-month sabbatical to find her true self. Not be distracted by the first man she met. Especially as the impression he must have of her– the archetypal dumb blonde who found herself on the wrong boat, spilt her drink down herself– was exactly the stereotype she wanted to erase.
And yet…
What better way to help erase the memory of her last two shitty boyfriends than by having hot, island sex with an insanely attractive millionaire?