Chapter Five
Burke rolled to his back, splayed her across his body. “Let me go cut us loose; then you can help me steer the boat out of here.”
The minute he suggested leaving her, even for a moment, panic flashed across her face. “That’s your idea? To go straight to sailing? Maybe I should come topside with you. I’m good with knots.”
“Lesson one,” he whispered, running his hands down her arms. “Trust me. Lesson two, relax. Don’t tense up. Here, let me show you a little trick.”
She shot him a dry smile, but he just shook his head. “Not that kind of trick.”
“Can’t blame a girl for hoping.”
He laughed and cocked his head. “You know, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
“You mean women don’t usually rip your clothes off five minutes after meeting you, then run to the bathroom and lose their lunch? Imagine that.” She braced her hands on the wall on either side of his head and shook her hair back. “So glad I could be the first,” she said in an exaggerated, breathy voice.
He grinned at her little performance, but pulled her hands from the wall and put them very definitely around his neck. “What I meant was that you have this interesting combination of easy confidence and a sharp mind, without being pushy or arrogant about it—which is intriguing in and of itself.” He started backwalking her out of the passageway, back up to the cockpit. “But wrapped up in all that are these little moments of insecurity, and rather than try and pretend otherwise, you just own up to them, put them out there to be dealt with. Most people aren’t like that. They don’t want to broadcast their vulnerabilities.”
“Interesting analysis,” she said. Then, weaving her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, she added, “So, are you the type who likes to keep his vulnerabilities under wraps, then?”
“I never thought about it, but probably. Yes. When you’re running a crew, captaining a boat, you don’t really want to project any weaknesses.” He smiled. “Makes the guests jumpy.”
“I wasn’t talking about job confidence. I meant just in general.”
“You know,” he said with a fast grin, “we really should be getting under way.”
She smiled at his rather obvious attempt at derailing the current conversational path. “You started this, you know. But fine, go untie the boat or whatever needs doing. Just know that I’ll expect an answer later.” Her lips curved in a deep smile. “Or maybe I’ll just make it my mission to figure it out for myself.”
“See? Confidence. Very arousing.”
She tugged him closer. “Why yes, yes it is.”
Just then the two-way radio on the console crackled to life, startling them both. “Burke?” came a woman’s voice, the island flavor clear if a bit raspy. “Burke, honey, you there or what?”
“Now what?” Burke mumbled. He braced her hips. “You, don’t move.”
“Oh, trust me,” she assured him, “I’m not doing anything that involves motion unless absolutely necessary.”
“Hmm,” he said, a conspiratorial smile curving his lips. “A challenge.”
She just lifted a shoulder. “Take it any way you want.”
“Okay, now you’re just begging me to do something rash.”
Now it was her turn for a conspiratorial smile.
“Burke?” came the squawking voice again. “Honey, pick up. It’s important.”
“It’d better be.” Burke debated risking that the moment he took his hands off of Kam, she’d come up with some reason why they shouldn’t be doing . . . well, everything they’d been doing. Or worse, that he’d come to his senses and realize he had a whole lot more important things to be devoting his single-minded attention to. And none of them involved getting Kamala Apolo naked.
Which was a damn shame, really.
He leaned over and snagged the radio mike. “Hiya gorgeous, what you want with me?”
“Gorgeous” was Maybelline Concha, who ran the hotel on Barbuda where many of the charter guests booked a night’s stay before or after their cruise. She was somewhere between sixty and a hundred years old, and a sharper businesswoman he’d never met. She was one of the many inhabitants of Montserrat who had fled a decade earlier after volcanic eruptions had buried two thirds of her island home under a lava flow.
She’d ended up on Barbuda, starting up a new place there, catering to the sportsmen and eco-tourists who flocked to the mostly deserted island for the excellent birding, snorkeling, and fishing it offered. She ran a tight ship and had turned not only her small inn into a profitable venture, mostly by hooking up with the island charter services to offer joint promotions, but had largely been responsible for the new boom of economic growth the island was now enjoying. His respect for her was enormous. She’d also flirted shamelessly with him from the moment they’d met. He’d always liked that about her, too.
“You don’t wanna know the things I could do to you, child. Now listen, you under way yet?”
“As a matter of fact, not yet. Dorsey’s off to Australia as it turns out, and I had to wait for my new crewmate to arrive.”
There was a pause, then, “Something tells me there’s more to that story than you’re tellin’ me. You’ll fill me in later.”
Burke smiled at her confidence. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” he teased.
“Oh, you know I have my ways,” she shot back. “And speaking of ways, you can take your time making your way over here. Your guests have had a sudden change in plans.”
Burke’s smile fled. “What? What happened?”
“It’s all good, so wipe that frown away, hon. Mr. George and Miz Tutti got a nice little surprise Christmas present is all. Seems their granddaughter phoned to announce she was pregnant. They decided to fly back home and spend the holiday celebrating a new life on the way. But don’ you worry none, they left me a little something for you. Paid for their trip in full, they did. I’ll keep it safe until you come for it.”
Burke let out the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. “Thanks, May.”
“My pleasure. So you got a little Christmas present, too, I guess. A couple weeks off. And nothing better to do than get to know your new crewmate, eh?” Her cackle filled the small room, then abruptly cut off when she clicked off.
“No clients?”
Burke turned to find Kam firmly bracing herself, using the wall and anything within reach to keep herself as steady as possible, despite the fact that the boat was hardly rocking. He was going to have his work cut out for him, he thought, then smiled when he realized he was going to have time to do a whole lot more than cure her motion sickness. “Yep. But don’t worry, we got our fee anyway.”
“What happens now?”
She was still just a bit green looking, and despite all the new plans forming and shaping in his mind, he knew he had to do the right thing. “You know, I can still pay you your cut and you can just head back to the States. I’ll have enough time now to find a chef before my next run. I know it’s not the full amount you were hoping to earn down here, but—”
“Are you firing me?” she asked point blank, though her tone was easy, not accusatory.
“No, not at all. Just giving you an out. If you want to take it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I guess you cook for two for the next couple of weeks.”
“And after that?” When he just looked confused, she said, “What I mean is, if you can really miraculously cure my seasickness, and maybe I can barter a few sailing lessons off of you over the next couple of weeks, then is there any reason I can’t finish out the season as originally planned?”
He hadn’t been aware of just how much he’d hoped she’d want to do just that, until she said it. “No reason at all.”
She took a careful step forward, held out her hand. “Why don’t we make a deal,” she offered. “Give me these next two weeks to prove I can cook and learn the sailing basics. Give you a chance to prove you have the miracle cure. If either of us fail, then I take my fee and go home. I know that wouldn’t give you a lot of time to find a replacement.” She smiled as she folded her hand in his. “But I’m banking on the hope that you won’t have to. Deal?”
He tugged gently on her hand, sliding her into his arms. “Deal.” Christ, the instant her body molded to his—and damn if it didn’t just fit right where it needed to—his brain switched off and his body switched on. Not that it had ever turned completely off. He wasn’t sure it ever would as long as she was nearby.
He ran his free hand up her arm, slid it beneath that waterfall of silky black hair, and shifted her head to the side so he could nibble once again at the delectably soft skin of her neck. “I was about to start that first sailing lesson right now, but suddenly I’m not in any real hurry to go anywhere.”
She ran her hands up his back, folded her arms around his neck. “Funny,” she said softly, “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Sailing can wait,” he murmured, trailing little kisses along her collarbone.
She just nodded. “Sailing can definitely wait.”
“What do you say we begin with a little motion practice instead?”
She shifted her head just enough to shoot him a wry smile. “Is that what they call it down here in the tropics?” Then she sighed a little as he slid his hands down her hips. Her sigh turned to a soft moan when he cupped her up against him. “Just promise me I’ll make it through the practice without humiliating myself again.”
He glanced up. “You feeling queasy again?”
She shook her head. “I think I’ll be fine, as long as you don’t stop doing that.”
“This?” he asked, pulling her hips more firmly against his, fitting the bulge that was his now throbbing cock, between the perfect softness at the apex of her thighs.
“Yes,” she said, the word more a growl. “Definitely this.” She leaned back against the console, so his mouth dropped lower, shifting so his lips brushed over the nipple pushing at the tight, stretchy fabric of her shirt. “And maybe a little of that.” When he pulled her nipple into his mouth, she jerked, and moaned deeply. “Okay, a lot of that.”
“You know,” he said, dying slowly by inches . . . some of them more painful than others, “as much as I would like to take you right here against the wall—and in fact, I think we should definitely keep that in mind for later—I think there’s a much better place for this.”
“I don’t know, the place you’re in is feeling pretty damn fine at the moment.”
He grinned, then gripped her hips and settled her into the soft leather of the captain’s chair, which sat high off the ground, like a well-padded bar stool. “Change of plans,” he said abruptly.
“Huh?”
“I might hate myself for this later, but if we’re really going to make a go of this joint venture—”
“First it was motion practice and now it’s a joint venture,” she teased. “Boy, you have some interesting euphemisms for sex.”
“Har har. As much as I want to rip off what little scraps of clothing you’re wearing and have my way with you right here, right now, I have an idea that might serve us both better in the long run.”
“You’re full of ideas. I was hoping to be full of something—oh.” She slid forward when he spread her thighs and stepped between them, the chair at just the right height to make for a perfect fit. “Well, then. Okay. Good idea.”
“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “Just relax, deep, even breaths.” He kept his hands on her thighs; long, slow, smooth strokes, up and down that satiny skin, until he felt the tension completely ebb out of her. “Don’t move,” he murmured. “Stay just like that.” Her eyes opened, but he shushed her back when she started to sit up, continuing to touch her, stroke her, until she was pliant and relaxed once again, and her grip on the arm rests was no longer white knuckled and tense.
He slowly let his hands drop away, then turned and started up the motor. At the sudden purring thrum, she jerked her eyes open. “What are we doing?”
“Finding a little privacy,” he told her.
“It seems pretty private right here.”
He grinned over his shoulder. “Not for what I have in mind.”
Her eyes widened a little, but rather than challenge him, he saw a little spark come to life. Curiosity. Another adventure to embark on. Apparently they had a few more things in common. It made him feel good when she let her eyes drift shut and he saw her work on smoothing out her breathing. She was going to trust him.
He headed out and untied the boat in record time, determined to make sure her fledgling trust was well earned.