After he’d ordered two coffees, Luke looked back at Della. A small smile played around her mouth as she surveyed the view of the sweeping white beach with gentle wavelets lapping at the sand. He knew the vista from the alfresco dining area of the exclusive French restaurant in Nouméa was spectacular. But he was more interested in watching Della. She glowed, radiating serenity and happiness, and he liked to think he might be part of the reason. She was certainly responsible for how he felt—he couldn’t remember ever feeling such a bone-deep contentment.
She’d come to him for the past few nights and, despite the darkness she needed to relax, their lovemaking had only grown more and more amazing.
She turned her head and her eyes met his. An easy smile curved her mouth and a jolt of awareness shook him.
“Penny?” she said.
“Nothing. Wondering...” He stopped, almost afraid of what might come out of his mouth. He looked for a safe subject. “Tell me about growing up on ship.”
“It was great.” Her eyes softened. “There were advantages and disadvantages, of course, but I loved it.” She looked into the distance, obviously remembering moments of her shipboard life, and he wanted to her to look back at him.
“What sort of disadvantages?”
She shrugged. “Always having to be on my very best behavior when I was outside our cabin. The lack of other children to play with.”
“Did you play with the children of passengers?”
The waitress came with their coffees and after she’d left, Della turned back to him. “Sometimes, but they were few and far between. My parents mainly worked on cruise liners that were on the luxury end of the scale, catering more to couples and retired people than families. They were limited in the ships they could work on—not only did they need a ship with a vacancy for a captain and a doctor at the same time, but an owner who would allow them to bring a child. Most wouldn’t.”
He threaded his fingers through hers on the white linen tablecloth, loving the slide of skin that even simple hand-holding could bring. Three nights of Della Walsh weren’t nearly enough to satisfy his craving for her.
Soon he’d convince her she could trust him enough to leave the lights on. She was beautiful, and seeing the same scars he’d felt under his hands wouldn’t change his opinion. He wanted to watch her toffee-brown eyes when he entered her, see her face when she lost control.
Soon. He repressed a shudder of anticipation.
“Tell me about the advantages,” he said.
Della took a sip of her coffee. “Seeing the world. Spending massive amounts of time with my parents. Meeting interesting people.”
When he was young, he’d fantasized about an upbringing very similar to the one she described. “Did you go ashore much?”
She nodded, her eyes faraway. “My mother and I lived ashore until I was three, when my dad became a captain and could bring her back on board. After that, on school holidays, I’d often visit my cousins or grandparents. Sometimes a cousin would come to stay with us on the ship.”
“You know,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I envy your childhood.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”
“I had a sister once. Sarah.” Saying her name again was like a punch to the gut, even after all these years. Which was why he very rarely talked about her.
Della’s face immediately transformed with concern. “She died?”
“When I was thirteen,” he said, his tone matter of fact, as if that could counter the old pain. “Drowned at the beach.”
She tightened her fingers that were still threaded with his. “Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry.”
“Ironic, really,” he said, one finger of his free hand rubbing the condensation on the side of his wineglass. “That the family who made their money in ships lost a daughter to the sea.”
She was silent for a moment, leaving him to his own dark thoughts, until she said, “Was that when your father moved away from ships?”
“No, he’d been scared of the water since he was a kid, so as soon as he inherited, he changed his company to hotels. He didn’t even want us at the beach that day, but my mother took us, anyway. When Sarah died, it just reinforced his fears.”
“Were you close to Sarah?”
He nodded. “She was only a year younger, so we spent a lot of time together.”
“Oh, Luke. Her death must have hit you hard.”
“Worse than hard.” He cleared his throat. “And a month later, I was sent to boarding school.”
A barely audible gasp slipped from her lips. “They sent you away?”
“It was a planned enrollment. They’d always meant to send me, despite my protests.” At her raised eyebrow, he explained. “Before Sarah died, I’d thought they were coming around and would let me live at home through high school.”
She cocked her head to the side. “After losing one child, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they wanted to keep you close.”
One might assume that. But one would be wrong.
“I wasn’t the type of child they wanted to keep close.” He looked out over the azure Pacific Ocean, unwilling to let the memory have a hold on him anymore.
“What do you mean?”
“Sarah was the perfect one, always instinctively knowing how to please them.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I was...more challenging to parent.”
“Let me guess,” she said with an understanding smile. “You became even more challenging after losing your sister?”
He grinned. “You could say that.”
Her eyes flashed in anger, but he knew it wasn’t aimed at him. There was something nice about having Della on his side.
“So,” she said, drawing the word out, “even though your parents might have been softening about sending you away before Sarah died, after it happened, while you were grieving and your behavior was worse, they made you go.”
The memory sat like a rock in the pit of his belly, but he wouldn’t let his face betray his reaction. “That’s about the crux of it, yes.”
“You were just a boy.” Her outrage on his behalf brought a pink flush to her alabaster cheeks. “Of course you were acting out.”
“My parents were never particularly good at seeing things from a child’s point of view,” he said, his tone dry. That had to be the understatement of the year. They’d been too wrapped up in themselves and each other and barely noticed he existed.
Her eyes narrowed. “Within the space of a month, you effectively lost your entire family.”
“Except Patrick,” he clarified. Besides Sarah, Patrick had been his favorite family member.
She sipped her coffee, but didn’t take her eyes off him. “Did you see much of him?”
“Whenever he docked in Sydney, he’d come and take me out of school for the day.” Those days were some of the happiest memories of his childhood. They hadn’t done anything particularly exciting, but Patrick had just had a way of making everything fun and making Luke laugh.
“Now I see why you envy my childhood—you wanted Patrick to take you out of school to live on the ship with him.” She gazed at him with warm brown eyes that saw too much. He shifted in his seat, but answered truthfully.
“He told me it was impossible for a child to live on board.” He’d started to wonder if Patrick had believed that, or he’d been protecting his brother who would never have consented, anyway.
“I had the childhood you wanted—growing up aboard a ship with parents who wanted me with them. And I also lived close to Patrick for the past couple of years.”
He attempted a smile. “Seems so.”
“I’m sorry, Luke.” She leaned closer, her gaze sincere. “That must have been hard.”
With a flick of his wrist, he waved away her concern. He didn’t need it. “It taught me a good lesson when I was young. Never to rely on anyone.” People might promise him the world, but they never stood by him in the tough times. He had friends, sure, including his buddies from boarding school, but he would never depend on another person again, or let them close to his heart.
“What about relationships?” she asked, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “A good partnership needs trust. Partners need to be able to rely on each other. Surely you’d have that when you meet your soul mate?”
Soul mate? He had to cover the instinctive flinch. That was the last thing he wanted.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not good in relationships. I’m not interested in baring myself to another person, which they tell me is important.” Though, admittedly, he couldn’t remember telling anyone else the story about Sarah, or that he’d wanted to live with Patrick. Not even his ex-wife, Jillian, which probably said a whole lot about his marriage right there.
There was something about Della that made him let his guard down a bit too much. Which only meant he’d have to work extra hard to ensure neither of them got in too deep.
He tapped his fingers on the tablecloth, carefully organizing the words in his mind.
“Della,” he said, capturing her gaze, “I need you to understand that anything with me can only ever be temporary.” He hoped to hell she already knew it from previous conversations, but it couldn’t hurt to be extra sure. And to remind himself.
Her eyelashes hid her eyes as she looked down at her hands in her lap. “So you’ll always be alone?”
“It worked for Patrick, it will work just fine for me.” He’d have occasional female company, and he had a strong group of friends. Alone didn’t necessarily mean lonely. It meant being in control of his own life.
“Luke, have you considered that you resent the Cora Mae?” she asked gently. “That the person you wanted to live with as a child kept leaving you for a ship and wouldn’t let you follow. And if you resent the ship, that might be behind your determination to anchor it?”
He winced. That sounded like a pile of psychobabble, but something tugged deep inside him. Was he trying to fulfill a boy’s wish of keeping Patrick’s ship chained down nearby?
He shrugged. “Who knows how the subconscious works. Either way, it also makes good business sense.” He rubbed a hand across his chin. “How much do you know about floating hotels?”
“I’ve seen photos, heard stories.”
Hearing stories and knowing specifics were poles apart. “My staff has finished working on the preliminary plans for the Cora Mae’s conversion and I need to review them, so I’ll be flying out to Melbourne for one night. Come with me.”
He’d previously considered showing her the plans his vice president was overseeing and decided there wasn’t much to be gained—he was confident she would sell him all or part of her share of the ship regardless, and getting into extra detail would just muddy the waters. But something had changed. He no longer wanted her to merely sell her share of the Cora Mae, he wanted her to understand that this really was the best thing for the ship. To agree with him. To want the transformation of her home.
He cared about Della. When this was all over, he didn’t want her to look back on their time together with bad feelings, or to think she’d somehow lost. He’d like to think she’d remember him fondly. This situation with the ship needed to be resolved in a win-win. Della had to be convinced his plan was for the best.
She chewed on her bottom lip. “When?”
He did a few mental calculations about flight times and their next ports of call. “How much notice do you need to give the medical department to get another doctor to cover you?”
“Depends on how quickly we find one.” A frown line appeared between her brows. “But I’m not sure what this would achieve—I already understand the concept.”
He placed his upturned palms on the table. “I’ve given you the commitment of three weeks and an open mind while you tried to convince me that your plans for the Cora Mae are best. It’s a reasonable expectation that you would do the same. I don’t even need the three weeks. Just a couple of days.”
She blew out a breath and nodded. “I’ll make some inquiries with the doctors who cover for Cal and my holidays, and see when they’re available.”
“I appreciate that.” His shoulders relaxed. He was surer than ever that this was the best plan for everyone. Convince her the Cora Mae would be better as a floating hotel, and do it quickly, before either of them formed an emotional attachment to the other.
* * *
That night, Della went back to Luke’s cabin after dinner. They’d been invited to dine at the captain’s table, and had agreed that their intimate relationship should stay private while so much rested on their negotiations about the Cora Mae. So she’d sat through the torture of not being able to touch him through an entire meal.
Well, more precisely, they hadn’t touched where anyone else could see. But those long white tablecloths were excellent cover for questing hands.
“Coffee?” he asked, his eyes betraying a lack of interest in the drink.
“No, thanks.” She bit down on a smile, but it escaped, anyway.
He loosened his tie. “Tea? Wine?”
“Nope.” She took two steps closer, until she was within touching distance.
“So, there’s nothing you want?” he asked mildly.
Her hands rested on his chest, reveling in the solidness beneath the crisp white shirt. “Oh, there’s something I want. Something I’ve been desperate for all night.”
“They’ll serve anything you ask for at the captain’s table,” he said, one hand cupping her cheek. “What could you have possibly wanted that they couldn’t provide?”
“This.” And she kissed him, slowly, thoroughly, the way she’d been dreaming of since they’d sat down at dinner. Her conversations with passengers and other crew had probably been muddled, given that most of her focus had remained on the man who sat beside her, no matter who she was talking to. All she’d wanted to do was this. Just this.
Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom, letting her slide down his body just inside the door.
She leaned into his neck, inhaling the scent of him as she caught her breath. “Nice move, Luke.”
“Here’s another one.” He walked her back a step until her shoulders bumped against the wall. “Now kiss me again.”
She lifted her face and met his mouth with hers, showing him all the passion that welled up inside her when he was near.
“Della,” he said, his voice ragged. “I want to see you when I make love to you.”
Her blood turned to ice. Didn’t he realize how impossible that was for her? Tension flowed into her limbs, the rigidness almost painful after the lovely lassitude of only moments ago.
Slowly, she withdrew her arms and wrapped them around her waist. “Isn’t what we have enough?”
“What we’ve shared has been amazing.” He leaned in, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “But I want to see your face when you slide over the edge. I want you to see me when I’m inside you.”
Her eyes drifted closed, imagining the scene he described. She’d do almost anything to be able to see his face in those moments, too. Almost anything. But certainly not what he asked.
She turned her head and focused on the night sky through the window. “I’m sorry, Luke, I just can’t.”
With a finger, he turned her face until his eyes filled her vision again. “You don’t think I can handle the way your body looks,” he said softly, but with an undercurrent of accusation. Perhaps even hurt.
“If I’m...”
“Exposed,” he supplied.
She nodded, accepting his word choice. It was important he understood that this was no whim, that what he asked was simply not possible. “I won’t be able to relax. I’d be too self-conscious to enjoy what we were doing.”
She saw understanding dawn in his eyes and began to relax.
“Okay, new plan,” he said and gently touched his lips to the tip of her nose. “Leave the dress on.”
He kissed her again, tenderly, and while she was distracted, he slid his hands up under her skirt, lingering over the satiny skin of her inner thighs, then hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her lacy panties, peeling them down.
“You’ll leave my dress on?” she asked warily, watching his progress with removing her underwear.
“I swear.” He lifted one of her feet, then the other, so she could step out of her panties. “It’s not my preferred option, but at least I’ll be able to see your face.”
The possibility unfolded before her like a shining jewel. If she could trust him to keep his word, she’d be able to see him during those intimate moments, to connect with him on a deeper level, to watch his release. Her pulse began to race.
As Luke stood, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “If I’m consenting to the lights on, do I get a reward?”
“What do you want?” he asked with a lazy smile.
She undid the knot in his tie and slid it out from his collar, then threw it across the room. “All your clothes come off.”
“That’s hardly fair,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll keep one item, like you are. And technically you have two, since there’s a bra under that dress.”
“Nope, they all come off.” She touched her tongue to her top lip, and watched him watch the action. “In exchange for the lights.”
He blinked slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“And they come off now. Before we start.”
A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “I need to watch you closer next time we discuss the Cora Mae. You have hidden negotiating talents.” But he stepped back and quickly dispensed with his shoes, socks, trousers and shirt.
She reached out, letting her fingers dance across his skin. With the lights out the past few nights, she’d been blocked from seeing his body. Such a shame considering the shape of him. She’d seen his bare chest the day they’d swum at the Bay of Islands, but seeing it up close, being able to touch it... A hot shiver ran down her spine.
“And the rest,” she said, her voice uneven. “My underwear’s already gone.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” He stepped forward, pushing her back into the wall, and claimed her mouth. The kiss was hot, demanding, and she gave herself completely to its power. His hands roamed down her sides, exploring her curves beneath the fabric but leaving the dress in place as he’d promised.
He wrenched his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling. “I can’t wait to see more of you,” he whispered.
With hands that moved an inch ahead of his mouth, he made his way along the line of her jaw, down her throat. Pausing at the sensitive place where her neck sloped into her shoulders, he gently abraded her skin with his teeth, sending sparks of desire through her system.
Unable to reach much of him as he dipped lower, she moved impatiently, stroking from the strong column of his throat down to his biceps. When his knees touched the ground, he looked up, the whole world in his eyes. Nothing could have prevented her from smiling down at him.
He gripped one of her ankles and slid a shoe off, followed by the other, then his hands slid up her legs, spreading them a little farther apart as he went. Finding the hem of her dress, he bunched it in his fingers and kept on traveling, exposing new flesh inch by inch. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, his hands trapped her hips firmly against the wall, and he placed a delicate kiss there. Then his tongue flicked out and found the core of her. A moan ripped from her throat, just as his lips joined in.
Her breathing choppy, she managed a mangled version of “please,” not sure exactly what she was asking for. Luke continued his work regardless, his tongue circling and sweeping, driving her slowly crazy. She dug her nails into the muscles of his shoulders, needing something to anchor herself as her bones melted into nothingness.
His hands pushed her harder against the wall, his mouth merciless. She writhed, arms flung out to the wall behind her, hands looking for purchase as reality dissolved.
“Luke,” she gasped, then pleasure pulsed sharply through her and she imploded.
He moved up her body until he stood, holding her against him, supporting her as she came back to earth. When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
She coughed out a laugh. “I should be thanking you.”
“Feel free,” he said and grinned. “But I was thanking you for trusting me in the light.”
She ran her hands over his bare shoulders, luxuriating in the polished smoothness. “I’m glad I did.”
“Mmm, I think that should be, I’m glad I am trusting you, Luke,” he said, using a hand under her knee to lift her leg and wrap it around his hips.
A shiver raced across her skin. “Oh, yes. I am, Luke. And I’ll be glad for as long as you want me to.”
He dug his fingers under the waistband of his boxer shorts and came out with a little foil packet that he presented to her with a flourish. “Excellent.”
She looked down at the waistband of his boxers then back to his face. “How long have you had that in there?”
“About a minute and a half.” He pushed the underwear down his legs and kicked it away. “I dug it out of my trousers just before I stood up.”
“I like a man who thinks ahead,” she said as she took it from his fingers. Pushing him back an inch to give herself some room, she ripped the packet open and rolled the protection along his length.
“You also might like this.” He lifted her and wrapped her other leg around his hips so she could lock her ankles behind him. Only the thin cotton of her dress bunched around her hips lay between them.
“Like?” she said on a gasp. “This is fast becoming one of my favorite things.”
His hands supported her, positioned her, and as she felt the tip of him seeking entrance, her eyes drifted closed.
Luke stilled. “Open your eyes,” he said, his voice deep and rough.
She lifted her lids and found his gray eyes locked on her. “Better,” he murmured. “I’m not missing out this time on seeing your eyes when we’re joined.”
He began to move again, small movements, merely nudging her, building anticipation until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She braced her back on the wall behind her and reached down to find him, then guided him into her as she sank down.
Air hissed out from between his teeth, but he didn’t lose eye contact.
The feel of him filling her while watching his face in the fully lit room made something shift in her chest. The times they’d made love in the dark she’d known it was him, of course she had, but perhaps there had been some little corner of her brain that had played dumb, thinking if she didn’t see him she wasn’t breaking the vows she’d once made to her husband.
But here and now there was no denying this was Luke she had her thighs wrapped around. Luke thrusting into her. Luke with his fingers biting into the flesh of her hips as he moved her to his rhythm. And she didn’t want anyone else. Only him. Only ever Luke.
“Della,” he groaned, his body vibrating with tension. He changed the angle of her hips and sparks shot through her entire body. Driving her fingers through his hair, she dragged his mouth down to hers.
He kissed her hungrily, then pulled his mouth back a couple of inches, and she took the chance to fill her screaming lungs. His chest heaved in and out, but his gaze didn’t waver. Taking her higher, higher, to a place just out of reach, higher. Luke was whispering, eyes still on her, telling her she was beautiful, that she drove him crazy with want, saying her name. Then she burst free. Free of everything but this man. Within moments, Luke convulsed in her arms, his eyes only closing in the final moments of his pleasure.
Minutes—hours?—later, he released her legs and they stumbled to the bed. Despite her exhaustion, a joy deep down bubbled away and she snuggled against his side, completely relaxed. Supremely content.
Yet, as she lay in Luke’s embrace, a dark cloud moved over her heart. Was she falling in love? Her skin grew cold. For everyone’s sakes, she hoped not—despite being a good man, Luke had told her today in Nouméa that he didn’t want a true relationship. He wouldn’t want to be loved. And after experiencing the utter devastation that could come from loving someone, she would never open herself to the possibility again. If she let herself love Luke and she lost him, if he left her, it would kill her.
Glancing up at Luke’s strong profile as he dozed, she mercilessly squashed down the joy that had been building. She simply wouldn’t let herself love him. She’d enjoy all he had to offer, then leave with her heart intact when they parted. Simple.
The dark cloud continued to hover, making a mockery of her naïveté, but she determinedly ignored it and nuzzled in closer to her lover’s side.