Summer Surrender: Capelli's Captive Virgin / Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim / The Italian's One-Night Love-Child. Susan Stephens
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‘I’ll handle the boat.’ He nodded to one of the waiters who instantly produced more coffee. ‘Your duties will involve something else entirely.’
Her stomach lurched. ‘What exactly will you want me to do?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘But when I’ve decided, you’ll be the first to know.’
Despite her reservations, the sail was exhilarating—two hours of glorious sunshine while the boat skimmed joyously across the water, the sails arching against the kiss of the wind.
By the time Alessio finally sailed the boat into a curved, sheltered bay, Lindsay’s face was pink from the sun and stinging with the spray of the sea.
And she felt fantastic. Unable to hide her elation, she kneeled on the seat and peered over the side of the catamaran, down into the clear depths of the blue Caribbean sea. It was like looking into an aquarium. The sun sparkled on the water and tropical fish in a rainbow of colours darted beneath her. And ahead of her was a perfect curve of white sand, fringed by palm trees and surprisingly lush vegetation.
She glanced back at him. ‘Are we the only people here?’
‘You wanted a party?’ His movements sure and confident, he secured a rope and lowered the anchor.
‘It’s like being shipwrecked,’ Lindsay murmured, turning her head and staring at the stretch of deserted beach.
‘Five-star shipwreck.’ Alessio produced a bottle of chilled champagne and deftly removed the cork. Pouring the bubbling liquid into two thin-stemmed flutes, he held one out to her. ‘To a productive afternoon.’
Lindsay rose slowly to her feet and took the glass hesitantly. ‘I don’t drink in the middle of the day.’
‘Take a sip.’ Alessio raised his own glass in her direction. ‘I think you might be about to discover a whole new vice.’
Because of the way he was looking at her, because of the way he was making her feel, Lindsay took a tentative sip and the surprisingly light and delicious drink seemed to sparkle in her mouth. She swallowed and smiled. ‘It’s delicious,’ she admitted and took another sip. ‘Really refreshing. It doesn’t taste alcoholic.’
‘Well, believe me, it is.’ Putting down his own glass, he leaned behind her and carefully coiled a rope. ‘Don’t drink too much, especially if you’re not used to it. Boats and alcohol don’t mix and I don’t want to be fishing you out of the water.’
‘Then why did you want me to drink it?’
‘Because this particular champagne is an experience that everyone should try at least once in their lives.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘A bit like no-strings sex.’
She took another sip of the delicious champagne, watching as the sun glinted on his glossy hair. ‘For me, sex has to be an expression of love.’
‘That’s because you haven’t tried the other sort.’
‘I wouldn’t want to.’
He turned to face her, a smile softening the hard lines of his mouth. ‘Oh, you do want to, tesoro.’ His voice soft, he stepped forward so that his body was virtually touching hers. ‘You do want to. But you’re afraid.’
Suddenly dizzy, she put her glass down on the seat next to her. ‘Of course I’m afraid. I’m afraid of being hurt.’
‘No, that isn’t it.’ He leaned closer to her and she felt the roughness of his jaw graze the softness of her cheek as he whispered in her ear. ‘I think you’re afraid that you might actually enjoy it. And then where would you be? A relationship counsellor who has made her name dismissing casual sex, suddenly embroiled in a no-strings affair. You’d have to rethink your career.’
Her eyes closed. He smelt fantastic and her senses swirled dangerously, sucking her down. Telling herself that it was just the champagne, she stepped backwards and would have fallen over the coiled rope if he hadn’t reached out and steadied her.
Instinctively she put a hand on his shoulder, feeling rock-hard muscle under her fingers. He’s strong, she thought dizzily—really strong.
For a moment she just stood there, her body sending out signals that she was desperate to ignore.
Then, without warning, he released her. ‘Are you wearing a swimming costume under that outfit?’
‘Yes.’ Her mouth was dry, her heart thumping and her mind—her mind was in a mess.
‘Then I suggest that a dip in cold water might do us both good.’ Without waiting for her response, he stripped off his shirt and shorts, poised for a moment on the edge of the boat before executing a perfect dive into the sun-dappled water.
Suddenly dizzy, Lindsay realised that it had actually been quite a while since she’d taken a breath. To be precise, since the moment he’d stripped off his shirt exposing powerful shoulders and bronzed skin.
No wonder women chased him, she thought weakly, watching as he emerged from the depths of the water, the water streaming from his dark hair as he wiped a hand over his face to clear his vision.
‘Come on, Lindsay.’
She looked at him with something close to desperation. Joining him in the water somehow seemed symbolic. If she jumped—if she made that leap—’The boat might drift.’
‘The boat is fine. If you don’t come in, I’ll come and get you.’
Slowly, she wriggled out of her shorts and tee shirt. It was hot, she told herself, and her costume was perfectly decent. It didn’t enter her head to follow him into the water head-first. Instead she walked to the end of the boat and gingerly picked her way down the ladder, holding tightly, pausing slightly as she registered the depth of the water beneath her.
‘Typical Lindsay,’ Alessio drawled, ‘never one to jump if she can hold on to a ladder.’
Ignoring the amusement in his tone, she forced herself to let go of the ladder.
The cool, smooth water closed over her heated body and for a moment she felt small and insignificant, with nothing but ocean beneath and around her.
‘This feels a bit weird.’ Disconcerted, she glanced down and gasped as a shoal of blue fish darted beneath them. ‘Oh, my goodness—’
‘Blue Tang. The diving in this area is spectacular.’
Feeling a bit foolish, she swam a little closer to him. ‘Are there sharks?’
His eyes focused on something over her shoulder and the laughter faded from his face. ‘Ah—it seems that there are,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t move, Lindsay, he’s probably just being nosy—’
With a horrified gasp, she clutched at his shoulders and, too late, saw the wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘Oh—I hate you. I hate you! That was an awful thing to do.’
‘There are no sharks.’ His hand curved around her waist. ‘The reef stops them swimming this close to the land.’
‘It does feel slightly menacing, having all that water beneath you,’ she confessed, not brushing his hand away quite so quickly as she would have done had they been on dry land. ‘It’s beautiful. And—weird,’ she admitted, ‘not being able to touch the bottom.’
‘You haven’t swum off a boat before?’
‘I don’t generally find the opportunity during my working day.’
He gave a slow smile. ‘You need to rethink your working day, tesoro. Life is to be lived, not just survived.’ His hand was still on her back—large, warm, strong.
‘I like my life.’
‘That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing. Stay there, I’ll fetch you