Grant's Flame (Shark's Edge #5) - Angel Payne Page 0,1

even though the stateroom was air-conditioned. I poured her a glass about half full and then returned, nudging a spot on the bed near her hip so she’d make room for me to sit beside her.

“Thank you,” she said once I’d settled.

“Of course,” I responded good-naturedly and urged the glass at her.

She sat up fully and scooted back against the upholstered headboard. I made a fuss trying to prop pillows all around so she was encased in a down and feather nest. The yacht, which I’d researched for weeks in my hope to get Rio out of LA for a while, was elegantly appointed with all the comforts of a luxurious hotel. Included in my booking, which they’d luckily been able to accommodate last minute, was a small crew experienced in every aspect of personal service. They were here to fulfill our every whim and desire but give us complete privacy while doing so.

Rio looked around the room again, brow furrowed with a heavy crease. “Where did you say we were again?” she asked, but I couldn’t be sure how much she was ready to hear.

As I sat on the bed, I watched her carefully. The distance between us seemed safe. Friendly but not aloof. “Are you afraid of open water?” I asked gently, reaching out to stroke her leg and then pulling back at the last moment when I realized what I was about to do.

“As opposed to what?” she returned. “Closed water?”

I let her new crack go by. I had to stick to the subject. “As in the ocean, compared to a lake or river.”

“No, of course not. I grew up near Baltimore, as you know. I was practically raised on the Chesapeake Bay. In Seal Beach, I’m a block from the Pacific. Remember?”

I paused, consciously holding back the first answer that came to mind. I’d been forcing myself not to remember her little cottage in Seal Beach. One, because it was the house she bought and shared with her late husband, who was killed on a construction site for my best friend’s company. Two, because it was the place yours truly first got naked and horizontal with her. Forgetting both those facts was as hard as one might imagine—just for very divergent reasons.

“Yeah,” I finally stammered. “Of course. Right. Well, that’s good. Really good.”

Her dark brows pulled together. “Why?”

“Because we’re cruising on the Pacific Ocean,” I answered, taking the now-empty glass from her. “And will be for a few days. Honolulu is our destination.”

Good thing I’d gotten the glass back when I did. Within half a second, Rio jerked higher and looked around the room again. “Okay, back up the wagon.”

“Well, technically it’s a yacht.”

“What did you just say?” she plowed on, prompting my own small scowl. I wasn’t sure which detail was hanging her up.

I scooted back a little farther, occupying the space next to her calf now. The whole time, I watched her carefully. Her composure was still notably cautious. I related, though I hid it better.

“What’s wrong?” I asked gently. “What has you worried?”

“Really? This is a boat?” She swung her head back and forth, dark bedhead hair not moving from where it was stubbornly matted down from heavy sleep. “It’s nicer than my house, for God’s sake.”

I looked around the room again, trying to see things through her eyes. It definitely was a well-appointed vessel.

“Well, it’s a different kind of beautiful than your place, but I’m glad you like it.” I tried to infuse my words with the right amount of excitement. “Wait. You do like it, right?”

When Rio reached out far enough to clutch my fingertips with her own, my heart skipped a couple of beats. Seriously, like I was sixteen years old again. This woman—this fucking gorgeous woman—and her hold over me…

“I like it a lot,” she husked. “And thank you.” She looked down and picked nervously at the blanket. “I’m just not used to surroundings like this.”

“You’re going to love the rest of it, then, too. Do you want to get up and walk around? Might be nice to go up top and see the sunshine and ocean.” I stiffened though, worrying again about her unknown fears. The freak-out I’d witnessed in her private room at Clear Horizons would stay with me for life. I’d walk barefoot over hot coals before subjecting her to those kinds of emotions again.

“What is it?” This time she was the one to ask, tilting her head like a curious puppy. “You just got very

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