Billionaire Wolf. Karen Whiddon
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satin wood finished interior with wooden floors and a buttery leather sectional. Along with the 42-inch flat screen TV, she loved the wet bar with Sub-Zero refrigerated drawers. There were pleated fabric shades and a retractable sunroof.
“This looks brand-new,” she mused. “Did you have it built for you?”
“No.” He grinned. “But I did buy it new, even though it’s last year’s model. I’m the first and only owner. The sole owner.”
His infectious pride made her grin back. “I like it,” she announced.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he said. “Come with me.”
The helm, which shared deck space with the salon, had a plush seat and a glass instrument panel. The side window opened to allow a view down the side deck. Everything had been trimmed in a rich, dark wood.
“It’s got three staterooms and three heads,” he announced. “Or bathrooms, in case you don’t like the word. The galley has all stainless-steel appliances, a huge refrigerator, a four-burner stove, and even a dishwasher. It’s made for some serious vacationing. Cookware, bakeware, utensils and even knives came standard.”
His pride was infectious.
“You sound like a boat salesman,” she teased.
“This was my first yacht,” he replied, somewhat sheepishly. “While I own a couple, one never forgets the first.”
Touched, she gave in to impulse and leaned in and kissed his jaw. His scent rocked her—sea breezes and spice—all masculine and unlike any man she’d been with before.
Lazily, he turned his head so their lips brushed. He teased her with this slow kiss, promising so much more. When he moved away, she found herself breathless.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll show you the rest of the boat later. You can either wait here or go up on deck. There are some loungers and a table with chairs. I’m going to get this baby started and take us out.”
“I’d like to watch,” she told him. “So I’ll go up. Unless...” Feeling bold, she nudged him with her hip. “I can come stand by you while you steer.”
“Not this time.” His smile took the sting from his words. “You were right. You’re too damn distracting.”
Taking care not to show how thrilling she found his words, she sighed. “All right then. I’ll head out.”
“Great. I’ll let you know when you can join me.”
* * *
Ryan couldn’t tear his eyes from Maria as she strolled away. She wore some sort of shapeless cover-up over what he could tell was a red swimsuit. He could only imagine what the sight of her in a bikini would do to him. Even now, from just a little verbal sparring and a quick kiss, she’d aroused him to the point of pain.
Only once she’d disappeared from his view did he release the breath he’d been holding. Around her, he could hardly function, and he needed all his concentration to get his boat out of the slip and then the harbor.
Going through the motions, he soon had his twin Volvo Penta D-13 engines running. He made short work of unhooking his tie-downs, and soon he had backed out and turned to head in the right direction.
Pleased, he almost wished Maria was beside him, for a celebratory high five or, even better, another kiss.
Just thinking of recapturing her soft lush mouth with his heated his blood. He shook his head, aware he needed to get in control of this insane attraction so he could explore it at his leisure. Until then, it’d be prudent to wait until they’d reached open water before even looking at his beautiful guest.
They motored past the last sandbars, the cranes standing on one leg, the pelicans arching their long necks as they decorated the weathered piers. Taking care to stay out of the way of the larger ships, he pointed his boat toward the open water, feeling free, as he always did when out on the sea.
“Permission to enter?” Maria popped her head in the doorway, her husky voice teasing.
“Sure, come on in.” He made a concentrated effort to not watch her, keeping his gaze fixed on the water outside. “The difficult part is over, now I just play Avoid the Tankers until we’re past all the shipping lanes.”
Several huge freighters dotted the horizon, waiting for their turn to enter the shipping channel. He navigated them past these, intent and fierce, his pulse thrumming in his neck as he kept his desire under control.
Behind him, Maria prowled the salon restlessly. Überconscious of her, he refused to glance back, letting the anticipation build in him.
“I had my chef prepare several meals in advance for us,” he said, more to make conversation than anything else.
“Your chef?” She laughed. “Forget I said that. Of course you have a chef.”
“Not full-time. But once you agreed to come out to sea with me I had him prepare a few things. We have to eat, and I don’t cook.”
“Me, either,” she said, surprising him. “Though I confess I’m surprised you didn’t ask.”
“What kind of host would I be, to ask my guest to cook for me?” He shook his head, finally glancing at her. “I would never do anything so rude.”
“Good.” Her wry smile had his heart thumping. “Because heaven help the man who had to eat my cooking.”
Unable to tell if she was joking or not, he turned his attention back to their course, picking up the pace until they were cruising along at thirty knots, which was pretty damn fast for a boat this big.
Finally, they were clear of everything. Nothing but water, as far as the eye could see. He slowed their speed, setting the automatic pilot and fighting the urge to turn and pull Maria up against him, bury himself deep inside her right here and right now.
Inside, his inner wolf began to pace, the edge of constant desire making him savage and restless.
Damn. Ryan had never had a woman affect him this way. He wanted her something fierce, but she merited more than a quick release of driving need. She deserved candles and moonlight and romance and wine. A plush bed in a luxurious stateroom, a silky negligee and tenderness. He had it all planned, the seduction. He would not act like a rutting bull. Even though his body wanted to.
“This thing will drive itself for a while,” he said, managing a casual and hopefully friendly smile. “Let’s go up on deck and take a look around.”
* * *
With desire on a slow simmer, and feeling unaccountably nervous, Maria watched Ryan control the boat, glad he focused on the water rather than her. Every time the man directed that intense gaze on her, she melted inside.
Now that they were completely alone and heading for the open water, she briefly wondered if her decision to indulge her craving for him had been wise. No doubt her father wouldn’t approve. But then, what father would?
Truth be told, she’d grown exceedingly weary of doing the right thing. Sure, she understood her destiny, but the weight of the task she’d been charged with often felt too heavy to bear.
Some time off to recharge her batteries might be just what she needed. A fling, she reminded herself for the twentieth time since she’d decided to do this. Nothing more than a fling. Fast and fun, no strings. Back to her life, to the real world, the next day.
This kind of thinking had nearly gotten her into trouble before. She suspected this time would be no exception. Still, she realized she didn’t care. Something told her it would be worth it.
“Hey.” Ryan’s voice made her blink and come out of her reverie. “Are you all right? You’re not feeling queasy or anything, are you?”
“I’m good.” She managed what she hoped was an easy smile. “And I’ve never been seasick. As far