Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,10

sexy mystery man led her to one of the boats and she stood before it and gasped.

“This is what you call a boat?” she asked, hesitating before stepping to the plank that led onto it.

“Yes.” He seemed confused.

She suddenly giggled. Who in the world was this man?

“This is bigger than my place,” she told him. If her night ended because he realized she wasn’t one of the rich and famous, then so be it. She could only fake so much about herself and being impressed with the giant yacht in front of her was out of her control.

“Yeah, I got this several years ago. I guess it’s a bit extreme,” he said with a shrug as he shifted on his feet.

He wasn’t running away from her yet. That was good.

The sleek yacht spanned at least a hundred feet, and it wasn’t even the biggest at the massive docks. That’s what was scary about this world of wealth she’d stumbled upon. But the part above the water appeared to have two floors. She didn’t know what was below the water’s line.

Finally, she allowed him to lead her on board, where she looked at the red hardwood floors and lush furniture. Once inside the cabin she couldn’t even tell they were on a boat anymore, unless she concentrated on the gentle rocking motion she could barely feel.

“I didn’t know boats had such large rooms,” she said nervously as he led her to a living area.

He guided her to a comfortable chair and then stepped over to a big walnut bar with a giant mirror and shelves behind it.

“I don’t like to feel closed in,” he said before chuckling.

She had to wonder what he found so funny. But she wasn’t going to ask.

“I noticed you with champagne earlier. I’ll get you another,” he told her.

In only moments, Green Eyes was sitting next to her, handing her a beautiful crystal champagne flute. She clutched its long stem and immediately took a swallow. She’d had a few glasses at the wedding reception, but the effects were wearing off, and she didn’t want to chicken out on this once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

They sat together and she sipped her champagne, enjoying the quiet of the boat. Her eyes to roamed the yacht’s opulent cabin and occasionally stole a glance at the man who’d brought her there. When she’d emptied her glass, he refilled it. She leaned back and smiled at him. She wasn’t sure what to do next, so her lips were probably twitching a little.

“Maybe it’s time we exchanged names,” he said after the long silence.

She was feeling a nice buzz now and decided to play it bold. “I don’t think so,” she told him.

He turned his head to the side and his brow wrinkled. “Why not?”

“Because I’m enjoying the mystery of all this. I’ve never done anything like it before.” She clutched her hands in her lap and twisted her fingers, but then forced herself to stop. She didn’t want him to see how unsophisticated she truly was.

“Done what before?” he asked.

“Gone off with a man I’ve just met.”

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a walk or having a drink together.” He scooted closer to her, his fingers rubbing along her bare knee. She was grateful she wasn’t wearing stockings. She wanted nothing between his touch and her flesh.

“Ah, but that’s not all we’re going to do—is it, Green Eyes?” she said. Damn. Her cheeks instantly flushed after she threw those saucy words at him.

She was playing with fire, and she hoped to get burned.

“I hope not,” he said after a moment’s silence. And then he was smiling wider than the Cheshire Cat.

Stormy sensed the atmosphere change in the room, and she felt a little lightheaded as the sexual tension swirled around her. Green Eyes set down his glass, took the empty one from her fingers, and then stood up, pulling her straight into his arms.

This time he didn’t hesitate when he kissed her—this time, it was fast and hard, and her knees gave out on her, but he was right there to catch her.

And she knew she’d made the right decision.

CHAPTER THREE

As the yacht slowly rocked on the water, Cooper Armstrong looked over at the beautiful woman sleeping naked beside him—perfection on his bed. Just an hour before, they’d had the best sex of his entire life. That was certainly saying something since he hadn’t exactly been a saint in his days.

His Cinderella had tried to insist on leaving right after, but it had already been four

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