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And this hero routine he was pulling was flat-out sexy...as if she needed another reason to pull her toward him.
Will quickly crossed toward the dock, picking up his pace now that he was on even ground. When he muttered a curse, Catalina lifted her head to see what the problem was. Quickly she noted the damage to the yacht and the dock. Apparently the two had not played nice during the freak storm.
“Oh, Will,” she whispered.
He slowed his pace as he carefully tested the weight of the dock. Once his footing was secure, and it was clear that the planks would hold them, he cautiously stepped forward.
“I need to set you down for a second to climb on board, but just keep pressure off that ankle and hold onto my shoulders.”
She did as he asked and tried not to consider just what this damage meant for their return trip home. When Will was on deck, he reached out, proceeded to scoop her up again and lifted her onto the yacht.
“I can get down the steps,” she told him, really having no clue if she could or not. But there was no way they could both fit through that narrow doorway to get below deck. “Go figure out what happened.”
He kept his hold firm. “I’m going to get you settled, assess your ankle and then go see what damage was done to the yacht.”
Somehow he managed to get her down the steps and onto the bed without bumping her sore, now swollen ankle along the way. As he adjusted the pillows behind her, she slid back to lean against the fluffy backdrop. Will took a spare pillow and carefully lifted her leg to elevate her injury.
“It’s pretty swollen,” he muttered as he stalked toward the galley kitchen and returned with a baggie full of ice wrapped in a towel. “Keep this on it and I’ll go see if I can find some pain reliever.”
“Really, it’ll be fine,” she lied. The pain was bad, but she wanted him to check on the damage so they could get back to Alma... She prayed they could safely get back. “Go see how bad the destruction is. I’m not going anywhere.”
Will’s brows drew in. With his hands on his hips, that sexy black ink scrolling over his bare chest and the taut muscles, he personified sex appeal.
“Staring at my ankle won’t make it any better,” she told him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
His unique blue eyes shifted and held her gaze. “I hate that I hurt you,” he muttered.
So much could be read from such a simple statement. Was he referring to four years ago? Did he mean the sexual encounter they’d just had or was he referencing her fall?
No matter what he was talking about, Catalina didn’t want to get into another discussion that would only take them in circles again. They were truly getting nowhere...well, they’d ended up naked, but other than that, they’d gotten nowhere.
“Go on,” she insisted. “Don’t worry about me.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue, but ended up nodding. “I’ll be right back. If you need something, just yell for me. I’ll hear you.”
Catalina watched as he ascended the steps back up to the deck. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head against the pillows and pulled in a deep breath. If the storm had done too much damage to the yacht, she was stuck. Stuck on a glamorous yacht with an injured ankle with the last person she should be locked down with.
The groan escaped before she could stop it. Then laughter followed. Uncontrollable laughter, because could they be anymore clichéd? The maid and the millionaire, stranded on a desert island. Yeah, they had the makings for a really ridiculous story or some skewed reality show.
Once upon a time she would’ve loved to have been stranded with Will. To know that nothing would interrupt them. They could be who they wanted to be without pretenses. Just Will and Catalina, two people who l—
No. They didn’t love each other. That was absurd to even think. Years ago she had thought they were in love, but they couldn’t have been. If they’d truly been in love, wouldn’t he have fought for everything they’d discussed and dreamed of?
Maybe he’d been playing her the entire time. A twenty-year-old boy moving up the ladder of success really didn’t have much use for a poor staff member. She was a virgin and an easy target. Maybe that’s all he’d been after.
But she really didn’t think so. She’d grown up around Will and James. James was the player, not Will. Will had always been more on the straight and narrow, the rule follower.
And he’d followed those rules right to the point of breaking her heart. She should have seen it coming, really. After their mother passed away, Will did every single thing he could to please his father, as if overcompensating for the loss of a parent.
