the challenge light up her face. “I know, smarty pants. The term starboard is old English meaning the side on which the ship is steered. Before ships had rudders on their center lines, they were steered with an oar at the stern of the ship. Since more people are right-handed, it was placed on the right-hand side.”
He laughed. “You amaze me.”
She leaned over then. “You have something on your face.” She swiped the corner of his mouth with a fingertip painted a light pink. He wanted to grab her hand, kiss it, lick it. Lick her.
He downed the glass of champagne.
She stood. “How about I put everything away and keep out the Godiva and the champagne.”
“Great. I’m going for a swim.” Exactly what he needed after watching her make a sensuous banquet out of a cheeseboard.
“But you just ate.”
“Not that much. I’ll take a quick dip before the sun goes down.” If you want to join me when you’re done cleaning up, there’s bathing suits below deck, where the other clothes were.”
“I am hot.”
So am I.
As she put the food away, he whipped off his T-shirt, went to the swim deck and dove in.
The water was cold enough to make him sane.
* * *
As she changed into a one-piece black Speedo, Hayley admitted that her stomach fluttered and goosebumps rose on her arms when she was with Paul. She could label the feelings. And wondered if Paul had, too, hence the swim.
You know, I read a study where suppressed attraction makes people fight with each other.
Had he been right all along? In any case, nothing could happen between them. She only wished her body would listen.
Ask to be taken home.
Never see him again alone.
She should, at the very least, inure herself against his luscious dark hair, his toned muscles, his cute butt. She looked at her clothes, neatly folded on the counter. Put them on, Hayley. Escape the situation.
The lawyer warred with the woman.
The woman won.
She tugged back her hair in a ponytail and climbed the stairs to the top deck. He was still in the water.
Shouting from there. “Hey, come on in.”
The sun felt good on even more bare skin. She walked to the swim deck and stepped onto it. Dived in.
The water was refreshing in mid-July. She took her time coming to the surface and found herself right in front of him.
His blue eyes picked up the color of the sky. “Do you swim?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Let’s go, then.”
They swam. Far. By tacit agreement they stopped. He called over, “Beat you back.”
“Like hell.”
Hayley was an excellent swimmer. She put her face in the water, kicked and was on her way. She didn’t look for him when she came up for air, but kept the boat in her sight. She got to the swim deck even with him.
“Geez,” he said. “Nobody else I know can keep up with me.”
Hayley held onto the fiberglass. “Always the competitor.”
“Again, pot and kettle, woman.” He pointed to the boat. “Ladies first.”
She levered herself up, and climbed back into the cabin cruiser. He stayed in the water, so she turned to him. “What are you doing?”
“Um, I’ll be right up.” He dunked his head under, and finally emerged. Then he followed her onto the platform and into the boat.
She said, “Towels?”
He pointed to the left. “Right there.”
She bent over to open the storage space. She thought she heard him groan. Tense again, she fished out two towels and threw him one. He turned his back to her.
Muscles rippled across his torso as he bent over to dry his legs. He had a trim waist, and powerful legs, if he could swim like that.
She felt like groaning, too.
Turning away, she sat on the bench and dried herself off and stood. He kept his back to her. Another boat sped by, its motor roaring, causing a wake so she had to grab onto the seat. When it passed, she faced him. “Is something wrong, Paul?”
He said, “I don’t know.” His voice was gravelly. He turned. “Are you okay?”
She took a long time to answer. Then she said, “No, I’m not.”
“Should we go back?”
“If you want that.” Longing seized her. As if she was sleep-walking, she crossed to him and laid her cheek on his chest. “But I don’t.”
He seemed to relax. Then he said, “Thank God.”
* * *
The bathing suit stuck to her. Of course, he was fumbling badly, like a kid in the back seat of his car. “Hell, whose idea was it to swim?”
“If you’ll