Chapter 53

I’m leaning against the rail near the front of the boat, absent-mindedly watching the gentle waves,
aware of his presence as soon as he comes close. It’s that warm tingling feeling whenever he’s around,
an aura of safety and familiarity, and even a couple of feet away, my skin prickles at his proximity.

“Here.” He hands me a bottle of cold, flavored water, with a smile, his eyes shielded from view by his
Ray Bans.

“Thanks.” I open it and take a long drink. I didn’t realize how parched I was, maybe a little too heated
with his topless body so close.

“You look nice.” He appraises me through tinted lenses, and I wait for the sexual banter or joking come-
ons, but it doesn’t happen. I noticed since our arrival that flirty, always giving me the charm, Jake, has
relaxed back. He’s being respectful.

“Thanks.” My cheeks warm. He’s skimming my swimsuit, appraising me with his eyes and I turn away,
so he doesn’t see how awkward it’s making me. Bikini wearing is a new sensation, I have to acclimatize
to it. I also don’t want to stare at his expanse of naked torso, it’s an understatement to say he looks
hotter than hot. Up close it’s hard not to admire what being a fitness freak has done to that chiseled
body.

“We’re going to the shore tonight for dinner … You want to come?” He’s looking across the calm water
now. Stretching out, sparkling peacefully, and distracting him.

“Sure.” I smile back at him. I shield my eyes from the sun and he automatically swipes his sunglasses
from his face to mine, sending a little shimmer of warmth through me, like it always does. My attentive
Jake. I can’t help but beam at him. I feel like I’m always doing that nowadays.

“I really should carry a pair of these.” I laugh, but he just shrugs it off.



“They look better on you than they do on me. Your cuteness just goes with my shades.” He winks
cutely.

That’s doubtful, he has a knack for buying things that just increase the level of sexiness he exudes.

“Where are we going for dinner?” I try to direct conversation away from staring at his face, his
shoulders, his rippling chest, his carved abdomen …

Oh lord.

“Some little seafood place Marissa knows.”

“I want to get my hair cut while we’re here … Do you think there are any hairdressers on the
mainland?” I regret asking as he turns toward the topless women, sunning themselves on towels, two
of them watching him studiously.

“Leila will know … She comes here a lot.” He nods toward the only one wearing a bikini. I resist the
urge to ask him if he’s slept with any of the three women, but I know it’s probably inevitable. I know how
these rich men pass around their beauties between them, like some sort of guy’s club; the women only
too eager to please.

I notice Marissa watching him coolly, a strange expression on her face. He catches her eye, his jaw
flexes and turns away quickly; a sudden sharp pain in my chest pushes me to ask before thinking
through my impulsive observation.

“You know Marissa well?” I blink toward him and he pauses for a second. So does my heart rate.

“Once.” There’s a coolness to his voice and he stares off toward the distant horizon; it sends trepidation
through me. This is a side to him that mystifies me; when he clams up and doesn’t speak. It doesn’t
happen often, but it makes me anxious as he’s usually always so forthcoming. Jake never has



weirdness over women he used to date either, normally they know they will always be temporary and
most stay friendly after. I glance at her again, watching her biting on her lip and staring at his powerful
body lustfully.

I hate her already.

“Want to come for a swim with me?” his voice slices through my wandering thoughts, visions of him
and her passionately entangled as I stab her in the head.

Stop it, Emma! What the hell?

“Now?” I blink. Shaking the horrifying images out of my brain.

“Why not?” he smiles at me, watching me closely, I’m pretty sure he’s waiting on the magical moment I
unwind and chill out he’s expecting to see on this trip, and I’m really trying to relax. Hard to do when
two of your holiday mates are mentally undressing your date, openly; well, escort – because we are not
dating, not that we ever would, of course. I’m regretting not coming alone with him after all.

Maybe it would have been easier without the playboy bunnies over there, trying to eye screw him.

“Sure.” It beats watching them writhing on deck suggestively as their men folk slug back Martinis,
listening to bass pounding dance music, while snorting lines of cocaine. I’m glad that’s not something
Jake has done around me or has ever admitted to anyway. He’s never mentioned Daniel’s frequent use
of drugs or that he’s ever joined in when with him. I think I would cry if Jake was doing it now.

We wander to the open area of railing and I strip off my sarong, admiring Jake expertly dive in and
follow him.

* * *



The water feels luxurious and Jake is an amazingly powerful swimmer who looks as good in, as he
does out of the water although he has pushed me under twice now. I swim toward the beach, but I’m
too slow as he catches my ankle for the third time, dunking me again. This game isn’t so fun now; he’s
too fast and too strong.

“Stop … it.” I splutter to the surface, coughing and choking, wiping the water out of my eyes again until
I’m met with his childish grin.

“Only if you ask me nicely, tiny tots.” He smooths the water from his face, and I can’t help but notice his
hair gel must be water-resistant, apart from looking a little ruffled, it’s still pretty much spiked to the
center in his trademark “do”. Carrero products really are worth the high price tag.

He swims to me and gets dangerously close.

Whoa there, boss. My bikini is virtually underwear here, and you’re only half dressed.

It seems a little more inappropriate somehow. To me, it really is like frolicking naked.

“Will you please stop trying to drown me, Mr. Carrero.” I beg, the cheeky glint in his eye only makes my
heart sink knowing he’s in full blown play mode. This will not bode well for me, it never does.

“Seeing as you ask so sweetly, Miss. Anderson.” He pushes me under again, this time though he
catches me under the water by the hip and I’m pulled back up against him, hard. Nose to nose and it
doesn’t seem so right anymore; now it’s a little too much like being truly naked. It’s closer than I think
even he expects, and he releases me quickly. I’m more than conscious that my exposed stomach just
had an undeniable graze with his bulging groin and now I can’t shake the feeling from my skin. Maybe
this is a bad idea after all. There’s a strange atmosphere between us and I don’t like it.



He swims away from me quickly, towards the shore and all I can do is follow him. The beach isn’t that
far, but it’s exhausting, yet I manage the swim behind him in the crystal depths and the reward is worth
it.

It’s gloriously scorching, with swaying palms and soft white sands. I can make out the distant hum of
music from the boat behind us and watching Jake lazily walk across the shoreline is breathtaking. I’m
lucky that my boss makes for a gorgeous view in all terrain which keeps things interesting.

Can’t ever deny a good bit of eye candy.

I realize I’ve left my sarong on the boat and now I’m walking around in bikini bottoms, showing the full
length of my naked legs. It’s nerve racking, considering I’m someone who rarely wears short skirts, or
dresses and now here I am, skimpy beachwear in public, in front of Jake, with a body like his. This is
enough to give anyone a complex.

My hair is heavy in its ponytail, so I pull it free, ringing out the water and leave it to hang down my back
in a bid to cover some skin. It’s gotten way too long lately, and I should look at a new style, it’s time for
a change.

Maybe a sleek bob? Maybe not! All that loose hair to twirl will send Jake crazy, he’ll probably shave my
head.

He stops to look back at me and pauses, his gaze on me as I close the gap slowly. It’s hard to ignore
his eyes doing that same sweep over me he did on deck. Male eyeballing, taking in the amount of
exposed skin and how my boobs look in a bikini. I squirm under that gaze yet feel nothing of my usual
revulsion when men check me out. He takes my hand to drag me with him and thankfully turns away,
facing toward our destination.


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