The Devil and the Deep - By Amy Andrews Page 0,22

few weeks, then she was going to make damn sure what they did have was of the highest quality. Good chocolate—for her anyway, Rick wasn’t fussy—and the most decadent biscuits money could buy—for him.

Serg had told her when she was a teenager that Rick had a sweet tooth that was best kept fed. She hadn’t been sure whether that had some double meaning or not, but it had certainly fed her hormone-fuelled imagination.

Stella pushed the uncooperative metal beast with two wonky wheels for what seemed like five miles in the giant sprawling shopping centre. She almost crashed into a shop window and earned the wrath of a mother who thought Stella was deliberately trying to run her tantrumming little angel down.

When she finally reached the coffee shop her abdominals, quads and biceps were cramped with the effort of keeping the damn thing on track. Her mood was not great. It didn’t improve any to find Rick, with one shopping bag, chatting up a tall, dark-haired waitress who looked as if she were born dancing the Flamenco.

Of course.

The man had a perpetual hard-on.

‘Hi,’ she said, using the back of Rick’s chair as a brake for the trolley.

Rick spun around as the impact interrupted him mid-flirt.

‘Oops, sorry, damn thing is impossible to control,’ she said, smiling sweetly at the waitress, who looked as if she was about to give Stella a piece of her mind for careening into a customer.

A sex-god customer.

Stella was pretty damn sure if someone had barged into her chair with a dangerous weapon, Ms Flamenco wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.

‘Hey, Stel.’ He grinned. ‘Have a seat. You want a coffee? Something to eat? Ramona says they do a mean nachos here.’

Stella smiled at Ramona. ‘Nachos and a flat white would be great, thanks.’

Ramona nodded at Rick. ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

I just bet you will, Stella thought uncharitably as she sat down.

‘Whoa, you buy the whole shop?’ Rick asked, examining the contents of the missile that had smacked into him.

‘You have to cover every contingency,’ she said waspishly.

‘Ooh, Snickers,’ he said, pulling out the packet of fun-sized chocolate bars. ‘My favourite.’

Yes. Which was why she’d bought them.

‘Can I take your order, sir?’

Stella looked up at another goddess smiling down at Rick as if he’d invented oxygen. Lord, where did this coffee shop source their staff from—www.lookgoodnaked.com?

‘We’ve ordered,’ she said tersely.

‘Sorry.’ Rick smiled and shrugged.

‘No worries,’ the woman said, her smile not wavering, her gaze not leaving his. ‘If you need anything just yell. I’m Holly.’

‘Thanks, I’ll holler, Holly,’ he said and she giggled.

Stella rolled her eyes. ‘You’re incorrigible.’

Rick grinned. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Stella ignored him, instead choosing to go through the docket with him for anything she might have forgotten while they waited for their meal. It was going to be too late once they’d cast off in the morning. No less than two waitresses interrupted them while they did so.

Their meals finally arrived and Stella almost laughed as yet another woman, a leggy redhead, delivered them.

Were they drawing straws?

This one looked older—older than Rick for sure—and had the calm authority and predatory grace of a woman who knew what she liked. She introduced herself as the owner.

‘Ramona was saying you’re sailing north for a few weeks. I don’t suppose you need a deckhand?’ she joked as she placed Rick’s meal in front of him.

‘I’m the deckhand,’ Stella intoned.

Was she invisible?

Was it that ridiculous to think that she could be his girlfriend? It seemed every female employee in the coffee shop thought so, if their quick dismissive gazes followed by their unabashed flirting were any indication.

She wanted to stand up and say, Hey, I’m a famous author, don’t you know. But then Rick looked at her and winked and she felt as if he’d just ruffled her hair and slipped her a few bucks to run along and leave him do his thing.

She felt like his kid sister.

‘Do you know boats?’ Rick asked.

The woman smiled. ‘Oh, yes, my ex always owned classic yachts. I hear yours is a beauty.’

Rick nodded enthusiastically. ‘You should drop by the marina and see her. The Stella is a true class act.’

Stella blinked.

Had he just invited a cougar back to the boat?

Oh, no, don’t mind me.

The woman smiled at him. ‘I may just do that.’

‘Can I get some cracked pepper?’ Stella asked.

The redhead gave her a cursory once-over and disregarded her in less than five seconds. ‘I’ll send Ramona over,’ she said and she slunk away.

‘God, this looks