can all be as easy or as difficult as each other.’ She balanced the plates a little awkwardly, mindful of her injury and thankful for the calm ocean.
‘Here, let me take them,’ Rick said as he stood.
She shook her head. ‘No way, you cooked, plus you’ve been waiting on me for days. The arm’s heaps better so just sit.’ Rick sat and she smiled. ‘You want another beer?’
He nodded. ‘Sure, why not?’ Maybe if he was a little cut he’d go straight to sleep.
Stella seemed to take a while. He could hear her banging around down below deck as the sun gradually set above, the evening sky slowly speckling with stars. It felt oddly domesticated and a deep spring of contentment welled inside him, bringing him to his feet.
He frowned as he prowled restlessly around the deck. The boards felt good beneath his bare feet.
His deck, his boat, his ocean.
These were the things that brought him contentment. Not some woman clattering around in his kitchen.
That never made him feel content.
In fact it usually made him want to get away fast. Ditch the chick at the nearest port and sail himself far away. Get back to his true mistress—the ocean.
Like Nathan. Like his father.
But here he was, nonetheless, on the ocean, sharing it with probably the only woman who truly understood the pull of such a demanding mistress.
The tinkle of her bell alerted him to her presence and he turned to see her walking towards him, holding the necks of two beers in one hand and a plate holding two mangoes, a knife and a cloth in the other.
‘I’m having a mango,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted one or not.’ She handed him his beer as she sat on the deck, facing the horizon lotus-style, balancing the plate on her crossed knees.
Rick nodded, taking one as he sat beside her. Not too close. ‘Sure, thanks. I’ll eat mine after the beer.’
Stella raised the large pungent fruit to her face. It was warm against her cheek and she inhaled deeply. It smelled sweet and wild like forbidden berries and exotic like balmy tropical islands.
‘Mmm, that smells good,’ she murmured. ‘The whole galley smells of them suddenly.’
Rick nodded. He’d noticed earlier when he’d gone below but he didn’t want to look at her getting all breathy and orgasmic over anything other than him, so he hung his head back and kept his eyes firmly trained on the sky.
Stella placed the mango on the plate, salivating at the thought of the sweet, warm fruit sliding against her palate. She cut into the soft flesh, a pearl of juice beaded around the incision as the strong aroma wafted out to envelop her in its heady fragrance.
She was conscious of Rick beside her not saying anything. Conscious of what happened between them last night when they’d been on this deck. Conscious that it had sat large between them all day, screwing with their usual effortless dynamic. Normally by now Rick would be talking about the stars or prattling on about Inigo and The Mermaid.
Instead they sat in silence as they had done for most of their meal.
Stella took a deep breath as she picked up one mango cheek and scored the flesh. They couldn’t go on like this. ‘About last night...’
Rick’s breath seized in his lungs momentarily and he took a moment before looking at her, taking a swallow of beer to calm himself. ‘What about last night?’
Stella didn’t dare look at him. The weight of his gaze was intimidating enough. ‘You were right,’ she said, scoring the other cheek. ‘We would regret crossing the line. I’m sorry I made it difficult for you.’
Rick swallowed as she picked up a scored mango cheek, inverted it and used her tongue and teeth to liberate a cube of the soft pungent flesh. ‘Yes,’ he said faintly, trying not to think of the pear scene in Pleasure Hunt he’d not long been skimming.
Stella would have sighed as the fruit zinged along her tastebuds if the topic of conversation weren’t so damn serious. She turned to face him as she sucked another cube of mango into her mouth and savoured it. ‘I mean, of course it would be awkward between us and would negate all the good memories we’ve ever made.’
She bit into another perfectly square piece of mango flesh.
Rick heard the soft squelch go right to his groin. He zeroed in on her mouth, which glistened with ripe juice. His fingers tightened around the beer bottle.