Chapter 6
JEREMY
My tactical error became apparent the moment Avah emerged from the villa in a white bikini and a sheer cover-up that covers approximately nothing.
We’re on a private boat heading toward a snorkeling spot the concierge promised would be transformative—whatever the fuck that means—and I’m staring at her like she’s the only thing worth looking at in the entire South Pacific.
To be fair, she might be.
The boat captain, a weathered Polynesian local named Rai Hawkins, steers us toward a reef while his crew member, a young Aussie named Antonia, preps our gear.
Neither of them seems to notice that I’ve lost the ability to form coherent sentences now that every one of my brain cells has migrated to my dick.
Avah and I are lounging on the cushioned bench seats at the front of the luxury pontoon, and when she tips her face toward the sun, blonde hair blowing in the wind, she looks like a real-life mermaid.
Her cut is healing and the bruise on her temple has faded to a yellowish green, but nothing could truly diminish her natural beauty.
Her soft curves and delicate features are somehow made more exquisite by blue eyes that don’t miss a thing and the way she’d just as soon verbally skewer a man as smile at him. Or maybe that’s just me because the rare smiles she offers are like watching dawn break over the open ocean.
I should be appreciating the clear water and Mount Otemanu as backdrop, like we’re part of a postcard.
Instead, I’m mentally composing a thank you note to my personal trainer.
Given the way Avah looked at me when I took off my shirt five minutes ago, the dude deserves a raise.
Or a small island. I’ll figure out the details later.
“You’re staring,” she says without opening her eyes.
“I’m taking in the scenery.”
One eye cracks open. “The scenery is behind you.”
“Says you.”
Her laughter is unexpected and genuine, and makes my chest burn with longing.
How the hell can a simple laugh make me yearn to touch this woman?
I go on dates. It’s not like this is new territory.
But it’s never been this much fun, especially given that I’m with a woman who, until very recently, seemed determined to hate my guts.
When I told her at breakfast about the snorkeling excursion, she tried to refuse.
It would be too much and she didn’t want to impose more than she already was.
Whatever. Self-effacement doesn’t suit her.
I cut through every objection by pointing out that I’d already paid for the boat and crew and changed my plans for the day.
“You had plans?” She asked the question with honest uncertainty. What did she think I did all day? Hole up somewhere in a windowless room at the resort coding or brokering new deals?
“Running and ruminating,” I’d told her. “My two favorite paradise pastimes.”
“Wow.” She’d rolled her eyes like that was completely in line with her very low expectations of me. “You know how to have fun.”
“I’m told it’s a skill that can be learned, but there’s no proof.”
“Only you would expect tangible proof that fun is a possibility.”
Then I’d said the thing that clearly surprised us both. “I haven’t been doing things because I had no one to do them with. Now we have each other, at least for a few days.”
The moment stretched between us, neither of us moving to break it.
She’d looked at me like she could see behind the formal billionaire facade, and my heart felt like it was being stretched in new and uncomfortable ways.
I wanted to touch her face. Not the cut, just…
her. Maybe to check if she was real or some fantasy figment of my overactive imagination.
The realization had hit me like a rogue wave, leaving me disoriented and slightly pissed.
Now here we are, and I’m starting to understand how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into. Big trouble. Huge.
“The reef we’re heading to,” Rai tells us, “is home to manta rays, reef sharks, and about two hundred species of fish. The visibility today is exceptional.”
“Sharks?” Avah’s eyes widen. “I didn’t sign up for the Jaws tour.”
“They’re nurse sharks mostly,” Antonia calls from the back of the boat. “They want nothing to do with you. Promise.”
“That’s what they all say,” Avah calls back, before mumbling, “until someone loses a limb,” under her breath.
I place my elbows on my knees and lean closer to Avah. “If a shark comes for you, I’ll create a diversion.”
“With what?” she counters. “Your sparkling personality?”
“With my body,” I answer, once again fighting a smile at her seemingly bottomless sass. “I’m bigger, which makes me a more appealing target.”
Her eyes drop to my chest, and I don’t miss the flash of heat in them. Maybe I’m not the only one catching unexpected feelings. “Hate to break it to you, but sharks go for fat because they need the energy.” She pretends to give me a pitying look. “You’re all gristle. They’d spit you out.”
I know she’s joking, and yet some deeply juvenile part of my brain decides this is the moment to shift so my arm flexes. “They’d want me.”
She lowers her tortoiseshell glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Did you just flex at me?”
I hear Rai clear his throat behind us. Pretty sure that was covering a laugh.
“No.”
“You absolutely did. You flexed to prove you’re a worthy snack.”
“I offered to throw myself between you and a predator. That’s chivalrous as fuck.”
She snorts. “And you wonder why you’re single.”
“I don’t wonder. I know exactly why.”
Her lips quirk. “A stunning display of self-awareness.”
“One of my many endearing qualities.”
“So many,” she agrees with exaggerated sarcasm.
Damn my mouth goes dry at the way hers forms that little ‘o’. Nope, not going there. This woman is likely going to go back to hating me once we return to real life. And she’s just dumped her dick fiancé. She doesn’t need or want my dick anywhere near her.
The funny thing is, despite my physical reaction to her, I don’t really care that nothing can happen between us. I’m having a way better time than I was before I found her on the beach. Way more fun than I’ve had in a long time doing anything, to be honest.
The boat slows as we reach the snorkeling spot, and Antonia helps us with our gear. I’ve done this before—exclusive experiences in the Maldives, private dives at the Great Barrier Reef—but I’ve never enjoyed the prep work quite as much as I do watching Avah get ready.
She peers over the edge of the pontoon at the water, her knuckles white where she’s gripping the railing.
“So...how deep is it here?”
“Maybe ten feet over the reef,” Antonia says. “But you can stand in some places.”
“What about a current?”
“The lagoon is calm, almost like a bathtub.”
She nods, but doesn’t move to put on her mask. I realize with a start that she’s actually nervous.
“Have you snorkeled before?” I ask.
“I’ve seen it done. On YouTube.”
Antonia, reading the situation with practiced ease, holds up a bright orange life vest. “You can wear this if you want to float, no problem. Only thing is you won’t be able to dive down to see the coral up close.”
Avah looks at the vest, then at me. “Are you wearing one?”
“If you want me to.”
She bites down on her lower lip, and I have to suppress a groan. She has no idea what that does to me. Or maybe she does and this is revenge for the flexing.
“Hey.” I set down my mask and shift to face her fully, dropping the banter. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
Her eyes search my face for a long moment. “Again,” she whispers, almost to herself. Then she straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin, and says, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
She waves off the life vest and reaches for the fins instead.
“These are absurd,” she mutters, holding up one foot. “I look like a duck.”
“A hot duck.”
“You’re not helping.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
We slide into the water, and she quickly inserts the mouthpiece then gives me a thumbs up as if she’s afraid she’ll chicken out if we dawdle.
It’s annoyingly adorable to see a woman who is normally so self-confident have a case of nerves when, just as Antonia claimed, we’re about as safe as if we were floating in a bathtub.
But even if I wanted to mention that, Avah is already under water, so I follow. Christ, it feels like I’d follow her anywhere right now. And that’s scarier than the thought of swimming with a great white.