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The next day, I was on the deck of the boat, reading while Sebastian was busy videoconferencing the office, when one of the security guards hired by Ben handed me a heavy, manila envelope.
“Mr. Horn is below deck,” I informed him. He shook his head, and said the envelope had been expressed from Geneva for me. My stomach churned nervously as I opened it and gingerly removed the stack of official looking papers. A typed letter from Mr. David Bernard, Esq. was clipped to the front.
Dear Vera,
Hope this letter finds you well. Let me begin by offering my congratulations on your engagement. With a conflicted heart, I write this letter in an appeal for your help. Please don’t take this as a slight on your intentions regarding Sebastian, however, for the sake of the bank and the integrity of Sebastian’s position, it would be best if you would sign the papers I have enclosed. I’ll spare you the legalese. It’s a binding contract stating that, in the event of a divorce, you have no claim on the bank. In the event of his death, you will receive a small portion of his inheritance, the rest will go to The Horn Foundation.
Without it, I’m afraid it will seriously complicate bank business and compromise Sebastian’s standing with the clients. You should know that I have discussed this with Sebastian and have met with complete and utter resistance. I hope you prove more reasonable.
Best Regards,
David Bernard, Esq.
Without hesitation, I slid the pen from the envelope and signed all ten locations on the contract where the highlighted arrow pointed. Placing the papers back in, I handed it to the security guard and told him to send them back to Geneva for overnight delivery.
I hated keeping it from Sebastian. However, I knew that sharing the information would open an argument of epic proportions and my force of will was nothing compared to his. He was in a completely different weight class than me…in other words, I didn’t stand a chance.
Strangely, as I signed my name on the dotted line, a yoke I was unaware of carrying around magically lifted. All the reasons I debated with myself regarding the possible cost to Sebastian’s reputation by becoming his wife seemed to dissolve under the power of the pen. Without any claim to his fortune, we would be back on even ground. At least, we would in my eyes.
“Wake up––” whispered a sexy, gravelly voice. Drifting on a sea of tranquility, a merman appeared in my dreams. His eyes supplicating, his voice calling me home. “Wake up, wake up.”
There was mischief in that voice. I reached out to stroke his face but he caught my wrist and playfully bit my thumb. Then he wrapped his full lips around it and sucked. My body was suddenly burning. The sea of tranquility transformed into a wildfire of lust.
My hands stroked across his smooth, muscular chest and traveled down to his full blown erection. Steel wrapped in velvet. It pressed against my hip begging for my attention. My hips, as if summoned by their master, turned to press into the the merman’s impossibly hard sex. Pushing and pulsing, gentle pleasure coiled into something much more potent.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty. I want to show you something and if we start that, we’ll miss it.”
This merman was very bossy. My eyes blinked open to find Sebastian’s face hanging over me.
Wearing a crooked smile, and wicked intentions, he said, “Can you let go of my dick, babe?”
Barely conscious, I looked down and saw my hand fisted securely around him. Poor man. I peeled one finger off at a time. “Jesus, did I almost rape you in my sleep?” I asked groggily, my eyes falling shut again.
“Trust me, I was willing.”
He grabbed both my wrists and pulled me out of bed. “Noooo,” I whined.
“Yes,” he replied chuckling.
Another fifteen minutes of cajoling and he had me semi-dressed and walking up four flights of stairs to the top level of the boat. As soon as I reached the last step, I got it. I knew what he wanted me to see…and it was worth it.
The image my eyes beheld was so awe inspiring, so absurdly romantic, that it brought a tear to the eye of a cynic like me. Without any pollution, electric or otherwise, nor clouds to speak of, the full moon was so large and perfect hanging low in the night sky that it looked Photoshopped. And on the opposite side, an infinite amount of stars sparkled down on us.
Lacing his fingers through mine, he led me to a lounge chair that fit us both comfortably. We lay down, him on his back, me wrapped around him, my leg pressing against his sex which was growing hard again. He tucked one hand under his head, and all the muscles of his arm and chest popped up. I’d never seen a more innately sexy man––no artifice whatsoever.
