“She will be. Right now she’s just a money pit. I can see now why Odysseus left her. Too needy.” He punctuated the statement with a wink.
Feeling better than she had in months, Ally let a giggle escape. “You’re terrible.”
Chris shrugged. “You started it.”
“Well, I stand by my earlier statement, regardless. Your Circe deserves the face-lift. I’m sure she’ll be a beautiful, enchanting ship when you’re done.”
“Yacht.”
“Pardon me?”
“She’s a yacht. Not a ship.”
“Really? There’s a difference?”
“Definitely.” Chris levered himself back to his feet. “Ships are those big ones that move cargo and such. These,” he indicated the boats around them, “are yachts.”
Maybe they weren’t done just yet. He didn’t seem in a hurry to run her off and get back to work. A little spurt of excitement warmed her blood. This trip was getting better by the second…
“Ally! Ally-girl, I thought that was you.”
The voice hit her between the shoulder blades and crawled down her back. I spoke too soon. She knew that creepy, gravelly voice. She turned, and, sure enough, Fred was lumbering down the dock toward her like a duck to a June bug. Why me? Why? I find a hunky guy to talk to and the slimy one has to come and ruin it. It wasn’t fair.
She saw Chris’s eyebrows go up in question as Fred lumbered to a stop beside her. “Ally,” he puffed, “I saw you headed this way. If you’re interested in boats, darlin’, I’d be happy to oblige.”
At least he’s wearing more than he was yesterday. The polo shirt and shorts were an improvement, but that didn’t mitigate the fact he was here ruining her day again.
Fred looked Chris up and down, then glanced dismissively at the Circe. “How about that dinner now? We can let this swabbie get back to work.”
Chris stiffened a bit at the insult, but he didn’t take the bait. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse. Swabbie? How arrogant could one guy be? And how was she going to gracefully extricate herself this time? Short of jumping off the dock and swimming to shore, she was trapped.
She felt, more than saw, Fred reach for her elbow to lead her away. Desperate, she turned to Chris and mouthed, Help.
The corner of Chris’s mouth twitched. Dammit, this wasn’t funny. She didn’t want to be outright rude to Fred, but this needed to be nipped in the bud.
Fine. Rudeness begat rudeness, and this jerk started it. Her conscience could be salved by that, at least, as she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to be intentionally rude for the first time in her life. “Look—”
“Ally,” Chris interrupted smoothly, “I know you’re upset I’ve been spending so much time on the boat, but you don’t need to get even by flirting with another man.”
She let out her breath in a rush at the save, but then gasped as Chris looked at Fred and shrugged. “You know how women are about these things. They get so jealous over the ‘other woman.’”
Her mouth was open to argue with such a sexist statement when she realized Fred was nodding in agreement. She closed it with a snap and accepted the hand Chris held out to her. One quick tug, and she was against his chest with his arms wrapped around her.
And everything else ceased to exist.
The men were talking, but Ally couldn’t hear the exchange. The heat from Chris’s body and the solid wall of muscle surrounding her had her blood pounding in her ears. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, and the summertime smell of him filled her senses. Every nerve ending sprang to life, and she fought against the urge to rub sensually against him but lost. Her breathing turned shallow and her inner thighs clenched. But when Chris dropped a warm kiss on her bare shoulder, lightning raced through her, causing her to arch into him in response.
His arms tightened around her, and she melted into the pressure…
“Ally?”
The whispered question sent chills over her skin as his breath caressed her ear. Her eyelids felt heavy as she attempted to open them.
“He’s gone. You’re safe now.”
The words hit her like cold water. Reality snapped back into focus, and…Oh, no. She felt the hot flush of embarrassment sweep up her chest and neck.
She’d been writhing against him like a stripper against a pole, and her humiliation was now absolute.
This vacation sucked.
ALLY WAS A WONDERFUL ARMFUL, but the situation was about to become embarrassing for them both if he didn’t release her. The colorful sundress she wore had concealed the lush curves he could now feel as she fitted perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. Curly dark tendrils of hair that smelled like sunshine and citrus caught the breeze and tickled over his skin. When she’d sighed and moved against him, he’d been unable to resist tasting her.
Her plea for help might have spurred him to reach for her, but in reality it had only provided an excuse to act on the need to touch her that he’d felt the moment she’d lifted her chin and started her defense of Circe. A need that had intensified when that Euro-trash wannabe had tried to stake a claim on her.
But now that he was gone, Chris no longer had a reasonable excuse to continue holding her—beyond his own enjoyment, of course. But that enjoyment was beginning to press insistently against her, and in another moment he was going to take advantage of the situation.
As he gave the all clear, Chris felt her stiffen. Ally extricated herself awkwardly, clearing her throat as a red flush colored her chest and neck.
Maybe I’m not the only one who got a thrill from the contact, he thought.
“I, um, ahem, uh—” Ally paused, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thank you for the save. Fred must not have gotten the hint yesterday that I wasn’t interested. Maybe now he’ll find someone else to stalk.”
“My pleasure.” Definitely. He’d never been one for saving the damsel in distress before, but if this was what it was like, he’d reconsider playing Lancelot.
Ally attempted to smooth the loose hair back from her face, then smiled uncomfortably. But she wasn’t beating a fast path off the dock, which was good since he was already hoping he’d have an excuse to touch her again soon.
“Would you like to come aboard? See the Circe up close?”
He was treated to a brilliant smile that lit up her deep brown eyes. “I’d like that a lot. I’ve never been on a boat before. A yacht, I mean.”
“You can call her a boat, just not a ship.”
“Good, because yacht sounds a bit pretentious.” Her cheeky smile was contagious, and he knew he was grinning like an idiot as he stepped onto the deck and held out a hand to help her board.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been on a boat before.”
“Never. Well, unless you want to count a canoe at camp one summer.”
He’d spent his entire life on, in or around boats. Sailboats, speedboats, rowboats, tugboats—if it went on the water, he’d built it, raced it or at least