chapter SIX
Leah must have the same reaction because she gasps out loud, and grabs my arm. We both halt as a man appears, climbing up from the inside cabin. He has on a black crew-neck shirt and light gray shorts. His blond hair is perfectly styled back, accentuating his prominent cheekbones and square jaw.
His arms flex out as he reaches around the captain’s chair and checks the instruments on the dashboard. His back muscles come into full view through the thin material of his shirt and I get an eyeful of something I hadn’t seen yesterday. A perfectly defined ass.
He turns around just in time to see Leah and I gawking at him. My only saving grace is he wearing dark sunglasses that cover those golden eyes.
Leah turns her back to the boat and stands so close to me her shoulder rubs against mine. Leaning into my ear she asks, “Is that the guy you met yesterday?”
I nod my head yes.
“The one who was mad you were in the music room?”
I nod my head yes, again.
“And yesterday was the first time you ever saw him?”
I nod my head yes, again, even though it’s a ridiculous question.
The bow of her mouth puckers out and she looks down as if trying to work something out. She opens her mouth and then closes it again before looking at me. It’s for the briefest of moments, yet it feels like she’s studying me for an eternity.
“Okay, then.” With a nod, Leah turns around and faces the boat, pulling my hand up to the stern. “Hello! I’m Leah.”
Asher steps forward and meets us by the back of the boat. He gives Leah a polite nod and then turns his face toward me. I can feel his gaze drilling me through those damned glasses.
“Emma, pleasure to see you again.” His full lips are curved up on the side.
Leah looks at me, and then Asher, before giving me a nudge on my lower back. “After you, sis.”
My body jerks slightly forward. Asher holds out a hand and I take it as I cautiously move my feet from the stone dock to the boat. I do not want any sort of mishap like I had yesterday.
His large hand holds onto mine, steady, as I climb on board.
Sensing my unease, Asher pulls me toward him until I am flush to his front and wraps a hand around my waist. My body reacts in a non-lady like way to the hardness of his chest. I back away quickly and take a seat on the white cushion of the seating area of the boat.
When I am safely in place, Asher turns back to the stern and offers a hand to Leah. She puts out her hand and then quickly retrieves it before grabbing her stomach.
“Oh no.” She grumbles, bending over slightly.
I swivel my body around in my seat. “What’s the matter?”
“I feel sick. I can’t go.” Her hand rubs her tummy and her cheeks sallow in.
“Let’s go back to the hotel.” I rise from my seat, but Leah puts her hand up in the air.
“No!” She exclaims, then retrieves her sickly composure. “No, please. You enjoy the ride. Devon went through a lot of trouble and I’d hate to waste it.” She turns to Asher, “Please, take care of my sister.”
If the sun weren’t glaring in my direction, I could swear she winked at him.
Asher smiles at Leah, and I think my heart just leapt out of my chest. Damn, the man has a great smile.
Before I have a chance to catch my thoughts and become a rational human being, Asher has the boat started and we are driving away from the dock. I turn to face Leah—she’s waving a bon voyage from the dock and grinning from ear to ear.
I stare back at her as the denim devil gets smaller and smaller.
There is no way she knew Asher was going to be here. One look at him and she goes from needing to be on her next adventure to throwing me to the wolves.
Or in this case a golden god.
What is up with that? I mean, seriously, what is wrong with her?
For three days she guilt trips me into doing whatever she wants.
I have to get out of bed because I’m ruining her honeymoon.
I have to go on Devon’s yacht because I lost our passports.
Today, I’m on this boat ride because we have no money and it’s all my fault.
For someone who is so worried about me, she certainly has no respect for what I want to do.
Sitting here is definitely not where I want to be. Leah wanted to be here. But why isn’t she? Because of the supernatural being driving the boat. She thinks it’s what I need. Like meeting a guy and getting some action on vacation is going to change the course of my year.
Well, it’s not. Nothing is going to change what’s been done.
Not even the gorgeousness of his taut physique staring me in the face.
Like I’d even. I was with the same guy for four years. I can count on my hand the amount of boyfriends I’ve had and I’d still have room for more. I don’t do random hookups and certainly not with men in foreign countries.
“You can sit up here if you’d like,” Asher calls out over the sound of the engine. The boat isn’t going very fast, since we’re close to the marina, but it’s loud enough he has to speak up and out over it.
An uneasy feeling settles over my stomach. I am not ready to be charming and conversational. With my sister, it’s easy. She knows everything about me. But with a stranger, it’s uncomfortable.
The last time I had a conversation with Asher I was a blubbering mess. Not because of his hotness—that sort of thing doesn’t make me all wobbly like it does some girls. No, I hated being caught in my most vulnerable state.
I stand up and carefully move over to the first mate seat on Asher’s left. I am relieved when I make it the short distance without going overboard.
There is a large space between us as the door to the cabin below is in the middle.
I slide up the seat and settle in for the ride.
There is less wind in this position, as the black glass surrounding the area blocks the breeze, yet I know when we really start to move I’m going to be very happy I wore my hair up today.
I look over at Asher. His face is set sternly. There is no glimpse of the smile he gave Leah. I bet he’s pissed he has to spend the afternoon with me. I know he’s only here because his boss told him to take us out.
With his eyes on the water and not on me, I get a good look at him.
For someone with a masculine face, his profile makes him look kind.
Soft skin over a square jaw that could chisel granite.
High, wide cheekbones are offset by a tiny bit of stubble that makes them a touch rugged.
Sensual lips are slightly pursed, but there’s no denying their volume.
He bites his lip, not in a sexy way. Actually, I’ve never found lip biting to be sexy. I straighten my back and look ahead at the water.
It’s hard to imagine a man as attractive as Asher would have a free afternoon to take me around on a boat.
Then again, this is his job. I can only imagine that someone with his looks, traveling around the world on a yacht, would get a lot of tail.
He’s probably dreaming about where else he can be right now.
I open my mouth to tell him to take us back.
“You like speed?” he asks, before I’m able to get a word out.
“Excuse me?”
“Speed. Do you like speed?” He repeats, his eyes still focused on the water ahead.
Speed. Going fast. Driving erratically. Hitting things. Bodies flown. Hands crushed. Lives lost. Dreams expired.
No. The answer is no.
I like control. I like slow. I like safe.
“No!” I yell, grabbing onto the handlebar to my left and swallow hard. “The speed you’re going is just fine.”
By the look of Asher’s jowls sticking out from the side of his face that was, clearly, the wrong answer. He raises his chin and turns the wheel of the boat, keeping the same speed as before.
He continues to drive, following the perimeter of the land past the limestone and sandstone rock that make up the island. The water in front of us is a gorgeous turquoise color. It must be the way the sun is reflecting off the sea because it is so much bluer than it was yesterday.
I inhale the smell of salt permeating the air.
If I were to play a concerto it would be the Ernest Bloch, so full of heart and triumph.
I hear the crescendo with each crashing wave and spray of white foam as my gaze travels up to three dramatic towering rock formations off the coast. Standing erect, the rocks rise out of the ocean as if sculpted by wind and sea.
I’ve seen the image on brochures. They must have significance to the island.
“What are those?” I ask, pointing at the rock formation.
Asher shrugs his shoulder and turns his wheel to the right, away from the rocks and toward the island. “I don’t know.”
Figures.
Just then, his cell phone rings and he looks at the screen, briefly, before answering it. It’s a rude thing to do—talk on the phone with company—but he hasn’t struck me as the courteous kind yet.
“Yeah.” He answers. “What do you mean she didn’t get on the plane?” His voice rises over the low roaring engine. “Then charter one.”
Hopefully he doesn’t talk to Devon like that, otherwise his ass should be fired. Without saying good-bye, he ends the call and tosses the phone into a compartment near his seat.
I cross my arms and sit back in my seat. This is the most ridiculous boating experience I’ve ever been on, and I’m counting yesterday’s disaster. Devon must have a serious flaw in his judgment of character.
Asher drives the boat closer to the island, but there is no shore or docking area in sight. Instead, there is a large opening in the rocks, peeking out from the bottom and half submerged in the ocean. It is similar to the one we saw yesterday at the Blue Grotto, but much larger.
Lowering the speed, he guides the boat inside the cave and then turns off the engine. The boat is too big to go inside the grotto so we are drifting in an alcove of rock that provides shade from the sun. The water here is a transparent aqua, which means it must be pretty shallow.