Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I should’ve kissed her again, and that was the damn problem. Now I couldn’t think straight, and every time I looked at Catalina sitting across from me, I saw her swollen lips, which kept reminding me of what just happened between us.
Jesus.
The sight of her was becoming increasingly difficult to bear.
I reached for my wine glass, mostly to give myself something else to focus on, rather than the overwhelming urge to pull her out of that chair and back into my arms.
I could control boardrooms where millions of dollars moved beneath my fingertips. Surely I could fucking control myself right now.
Dinner would arrive any moment. That would certainly help. Anything that could redirect my attention from the fact that I could still taste her. Sipping the damn wine was doing nothing more than tempting me to taste it on her lips again.
Catalina tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear as she glanced down toward the harbor beyond us. I watched as she took another graceful sip of her wine. She was so beautiful it was painful.
The movement exposed the elegant line of her neck, and my jaw tightened instantly.
This was becoming ridiculous. I had spent years mastering self-control in every aspect of my life, including business, negotiations, pressure, and women.
Nothing rattled me. Until, of course, I met this woman, who apparently destroyed years of discipline simply by existing.
The cellist shifted into another soft melody nearby while candlelight flickered between us.
Catalina finally looked back at me. “Are you suddenly quiet because you regret kissing me?”
No. It’s because I’m trying very hard not to kiss you again until neither of us remembers how dinner even started.
But instead of admitting that, I calmly lifted my wine glass. “It would be impossible for me to regret kissing you,” I said smoothly. “I’m simply enjoying the view.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “You’re impossible.”
Wrong again. The impossible thing was the way this woman affected me after one kiss.
The staff arrived with the main course before I could say anything that might likely worsen my already thinning restraint.
The meal was set before us as Catalina softly thanked the staff. I loved the way this woman noticed people, spoke kindly to them, and never looked through them. It was like she’d had dinner with me on this yacht a million times.
Fucking hell, most women couldn’t think in my presence, let alone acknowledge my staff as they brought out their meal.
Catalina didn’t seem affected one way or the other. Hell, she didn’t even seem to be struggling in the same manner I was after that consuming and delicious kiss.
The staff disappeared, leaving us alone with the sound of the ocean and cello music drifting through the Newport night.
Catalina picked up her fork, then paused midway. “This looks delicious,” she smiled.
My attention had locked onto her mouth the second she lifted the fork toward it.
A slow smile curved her lips. “Are you going to eat?”
I can think of only one thing I want to do right now, and it’s not eating dinner.
“Yes, of course,” I said, placing my napkin over one leg. “I should love to know what you think…”
“Oh, wow,” she moaned, and suddenly my dick decided to join in, creating more for me to have to restrain than just my thoughts.
I took a larger bite than usual of my sea bass, letting the delicious char take over my taste buds and thoughts. Two seconds later, I was back to watching this woman eat her meal, which had me doing nothing more than wanting those lips around my…
“What do you think?” she questioned.
You don’t want to know.
Focus, Hawk. Jesus Christ. I let out a quiet laugh before finally admitting, “Listening to you moan over that sea bass is going to get us both in trouble.”
Heat climbed immediately into her cheeks.
Goddamn beautiful. Everything about her reactions now completely fascinated me. Most women tried to appear controlled and polished around me. This woman? It was nearly destroying me from the inside out to see that she couldn’t hide her reactions fast enough.
She took a sip of wine, clearly trying to compose herself. I watched her throat move as she swallowed. Another foolish mistake. Now all I could think about was kissing that same spot while she made those soft little moans against my mouth again.
Control, Hawk.
I reached for my glass of wine immediately, wanting to down the damn thing, but not wanting to make a complete fool of myself.
“This is unfair,” Catalina muttered quietly.
My eyes lifted back to hers. “What is?”
“The music. The yacht. You looking at me like…” She exhaled softly. “Whatever this is,” she said, waving her hand toward the expression on my face.
Something shifted low in my chest at the honesty in her voice, making it significantly harder to maintain distance across this table.
“I could say the same about you,” I answered quietly.
Her eyes held mine, and suddenly all I wanted was to pull her closer and kiss her again. She’d practically admitted she wanted me too, right?
I needed to calm the hell down. Yes, it had been a while since I’d been with a woman. Yes, I knew how to handle that frustration on my own. And no, that wasn’t why I’d brought Catalina onto my yacht tonight.
So, why the hell had I brought her here, then?
Christ. Was this woman really affecting me enough to make me forget my own damn reasoning?
“So, why did you choose to bring your yacht to California during peak season overseas?”
I stared at her like I’d forgotten that damn answer too. Which I fucking did, and there was no way it was coming back after her cheeks flushed again and she softly laughed at how ridiculous I was acting.
“Long story,” I said. “Really, just business.”
“But correct me if I’m wrong,” she was looking at me as if something were growing out of my head. “All of you elites are doing business overseas this time of year.”
I noted her plate was clean, and now we had to wait for dessert? I couldn’t eat because my appetite was only for this woman. I was battling everything I used to control so well, and miserably failing at it, too.
I needed to take a goddamn walk.
“What do you say we take a walk?” I said, rising. “Dessert can wait.”
“You haven’t touched your food.”
“I know,” I answered. “I can’t fucking concentrate right now, and I apologize for that.”
“Is everything okay?”
No.
“It is now,” I said, drawing her soft hand into the bend of my arm.
I moved faster than I should have, silently cursing myself for ever thinking a romantic dinner on my yacht was a good idea. This entire night was backfiring on me in ways I never expected.
I needed distance before my restraint snapped completely, or the damn cellist was about to witness me lose every ounce of self-control I possessed with Catalina sitting across from me at that table.
This was becoming a serious problem.
“Slow down,” she said with a laugh that brought a smile to my lips.
“Forgive me,” I exhaled, relieved we were out of my quarters and heading down the hallway.
“It’s fine, but you’re speedwalking, and unlike you, I actually ate my dinner tonight.” She chuckled. “I don’t need a side ache.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a tad dramatic.”
“Fleeing your romantic dinner without eating it, while forcing a lady to skip her dessert, is a tad dramatic, sir.”
Thank God she was casual about this because I had no idea how to handle these emotions.
My hand tightened around hers instinctively as I guided her farther along the private deck. We moved deeper into the yacht, where the lighting softened and gently lit the dark polished wood. I stopped outside a set of double doors near the private suites.
Catalina looked up at me curiously. “Are you sending me to my room?” she teased.
“Indeed, I am,” I said directly and truthfully. “But not dismissively. I’m simply excited to hear what you think of it, since you grew up in Madrid.”
“Oh,” she seemed intrigued now, and I was honestly shocked she wasn’t ready to throw me overboard after my earlier ridiculous behavior.
I opened the doors slowly, and for the first time that evening, Catalina looked completely speechless.
Warm golden light glowed across dark walnut wood and cream stone as massive arched windows overlooked the ocean. Rich textures filled the suite—soft woven rugs, warm leather seating, black iron detailing, bookshelves lined with old Spanish literature, and artwork depicting Madrid at night.
But the true centerpiece lay beyond the open glass doors. A private terrace, illuminated by softly flickering lanterns, surrounded a small fountain inspired by old Spanish courtyards, while ivy climbed elegantly around stone walls designed to mirror Madrid’s architecture.
The scent of jasmine drifted through the ocean air, completing the atmosphere of the secluded retreat I’d created aboard my yacht.
Catalina stared at everything slowly. “This is beyond anything I would have imagined. It even smells like Madrid,” she said, covering her heart and laughing. “It looks just like one of the homes where I grew up.”
A quiet smile tugged at my mouth as I watched her take it in.
Her eyes moved carefully across the suite again. “It feels…” She exhaled softly. “Warm.”
I stepped into the room beside her. “When I designed this yacht, I hated how cold most luxury spaces felt.” My gaze drifted to the terrace beyond the glass. “Madrid never felt that way to me. Spain has always felt like home.”
Catalina slowly walked farther inside, fingertips brushing lightly across the back of one of the leather chairs.
“It feels like we stepped through a portal,” she quietly laughed and looked back at me.
I held her gaze in the warm light, the ocean shadows surrounding us, and Christ—seeing Catalina standing in this room felt far more intimate than I’d prepared for. And I thought I couldn’t control my own ass at dinner? The difference is, this time I didn’t want to restrain myself.