George: U’re on the boat with a shipping magnate, rn’t u?
Becca sat up on the bed, paying attention to her surroundings for the first time since waking—a feat possible only if she didn’t look anywhere near Levi. She turned her back to him and looked at the beautiful wooden dresser and concentrated on her other senses.
The gentle rocking motion of the boat floating on the waves had been replaced by a sense of force. Sails had been unfurled and filled with wind that thrust the yacht forward. Now she listened beyond the teasing murmurs of Levi within the cabin, she heard the pull of ropes, the clatter of steel links. They were moving—not just a gentle sail, but swiftly.
Hell. How long had they been at sea?
Slowly Becca swiveled, wrapping the mussed up sheet more tightly around her, and glared at the abnormally silent Levi. “Where are we going?”
Looking rueful, he ran a hand through his already wild hair. “I’m not sure.”
“How can you not be sure?”
“I can’t remember. We made a plan yesterday, but then things got…out of hand.”
“How could they not wake us?” Becca was stunned. “Are they a crew of mutes?”
“I don’t sleep at night. They know to move on in the early morning as quietly as possible.”
“You don’t sleep at night?”
“Not easily, no.”
“Because you’re seducing random women you pick up in every port?”
“Because I can’t sleep,” he corrected in that soft-but-firm manner. “I’ve always struggled to sleep. I’m an owl.”
“So you’re nocturnal. That’s what you’re saying?”
Actually that was fully believable. He’d been amazingly energetic at two in the morning. But there she’d been thinking it was because of her, but apparently it was insomnia instead. How flattering.
“Do you make a habit of abducting women?” she asked, feeling even more acid.
“Do you think I need to?”
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him again. With difficulty, she hauled herself and the sheet from the bed and marched to the porthole, pulling back the luxuriantly thick curtain so she could see out.
“They keep quiet and let me wake when I do,” Levi explained. “I wake up somewhere new. It’s a childhood fantasy.”
Becca glanced back and caught his sheepish expression. But he didn’t need to feel any foolishness. To go to sleep and wake up somewhere new and wonderful? To have the world a clean slate? Just him alone—with no family or friends with him—just the quiet crew, doing as he asked? It was his dream escape. She totally got that.
She looked out again at the beautiful cyan sky and crystalline water and the gorgeous Greek islands in the distance.
“Does this really matter?” His words whispered in her ear, his hands settling on her waist.
She turned, finding him enticingly close, even more enticingly naked.
“You’ve not got anything to go back for,” he wheedled.
“Only all my clothes.” She caught the look in his eyes. “Don’t say it,” she admonished flicking his nose with a finger. “Don’t even think it.”
He started to laugh. A low, sexy, endearing sound and she was totally failing to resist its infectiousness.
“This isn’t funny,” she said, smiling despite herself. “This is my livelihood.”
“You just lost your job.”
“Thanks to you.”
He nodded, suddenly sobering. “So let me make it up to you.”
“By abducting me.”
“By taking you on a trip around the Greek isles.”
Oh she was soooooo tempted. But this is so not what she wanted. A one-night stand, yes. But time with the man—especially this man. To share meals and laughs and this tiny, tiny space and more of that mind-blowing, incredibly intimate sex?
“You just said you hadn’t fallen for me despite screwing me to the point of insanity all night long. No aching for babies and a proposal.”
That was true. Wasn’t it?
“You’re immune,” he added, his voice oddly dry. “I’m not the right guy for you. I’m just the guy to screw.”
She frowned. That hadn’t been what she’d meant at all. But even as she opened her mouth to argue, she stopped. Maybe it was better to keep it like this. Very, very light. Very, very physical. Very, very short.
Because that nagging feeling in her chest? Wasn’t going away. Wasn’t lessening. In fact she needed to ensure it didn’t grow.
“I’m getting off at the next port,” she said firmly. There could be no sailing around the isles for days on end—that was way too much fantasy, way too much risk.
His expression lightened.
“I was hoping to get off now,” he winked, voice dropping into panto villain territory. “I’m suffering because of all these interruptions.”
“Suffering?” She sent him an arch look. “You haven’t started suffering yet.”
“You abduct me, there’s definitely a price to pay.” She gently shoved his chest with a flick of her fingers. To her amazement, amusement—arousal—he actually took a step back.
But immediately he stepped forward again.
“You’re going to punish me?” he asked, pushing back against the hand she still had raised.
His eyes twinkled with a wicked gleam she recognized. Thrill, challenge, anticipation scurried through her veins. No one could issue a dare like Levi.
She leaned forward to whisper back her own husky threat. “You have no idea.”
Well, actually, nor did she.
But he didn’t need to know that.