Page 42 of The Satin Sash


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When they migrated to the sleek, upholstered chaise longues lined up along the left side of the infinity pool, Grey discreetly plucked the bow at the back of her bikini top and Toni ended up lying the better part of the afternoon topless, nipples pointing up, chilly and pebbled in the refreshing air.

Palm leaves stirred. In the distance, the waves crashed and rolled along the sand. A crescent moon made its way into the darkening sky.

Inside the pool, his arms on the ledge, Heath could not seem to tear his eyes off her. He’d done laps around the pool, his powerful arms slicing the water. Now his hair was slicked back behind his head and glistening rivulets slid down his tanned neck and shoulders.

Grey was sprawled on the lounge chair next to hers, those awesome, muscled, hair-dusted legs of his stretched to full length while he ate a fresh mango slice.

She thought she might doze off when she caught a movement around a corner of the house, past the neatly maintained grounds of the pool enclosure. She frowned. “Grey, I thought Señor Gonzalez had left for the day already.”Three gazes followed the little man as he came around, carrying a large black plastic bag with dry palm fronds sticking out.

“How much do you pay that guy?” Heath asked.

Grey’s lips curled. “Apparently not enough.”

“The last time Grey and I were here, he fell off the ladder and dropped right into those bushes.” Toni pointed, but Heath didn’t drag his eyes away from her; instead he flashed her a smile. A fast, wicked, dazzling smile that might have made her knees buckle if she’d been unfortunate enough to be standing.

“I’ve told him to back off, but he won’t listen.” Grey settled back on his chaise and waved a hand at the house.“He likes looking after her.You forget that’s his lady.”

“A high-maintenance lady,” Heath said with a grimace.

Grey ran a hand through his damp hair. “He’s such a hard-working bastard. He spends days washing her. Then it rains, and he’s at it again.”

“I dig that,” Heath said.

“So do I.”

Toni thoughtfully tapped a finger to the corner of her lips, scrambling to remember the last time Grey had washed her. “See, I remember being someone’s lady, but I don’t remember being washed so diligently.”

“I wash you diligently.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Like, fifteen months ago? Hey, think we would fit in the tub, the three of us? You can both wash me diligently.” The wanton words came out so unexpectedly, she was shocked. Aware of two pairs of eyes on her, she bit the inside of her cheek and glanced down the length of her legs at her bare toes.

“Heath’s allergic to soap,” Grey said.

Very vividly, Toni remembered how clean he smelled, what his skin tasted like. A little of water and salt and maybe . . . grass. But how much did she really know about Heath Solis? “Do you read, Heath?”

“When I’m bored enough.”

“What do you do during all those flights, all that time traveling?”

“I sleep.”

“He hates to fly. Has to be drugged.” Grey stretched his long legs farther out, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. “What would a therapist say about that?”

“I don’t know, Grey. Ask yours.”

Grey chuckled, obviously the last man on earth who’d pay someone to make him talk. With a fading smile, Toni scrutinized Heath’s rugged features while seriously wondering why he didn’t have anyone. He was a little primitive, and the intense look in his eyes might seem frightening, but she had to admit that she found that riveting. Like discovering a mystery, a complicated puzzle, or submerging herself into an ocean where both danger and treasures lurked.

“Do you ever get homesick?” she asked.

He brought an arm up and swiped his forehead with a dripping forearm. “I don’t have a home.” She couldn’t detect any hint of self-pity in his voice, but somehow his words were sad. “What I meant was,” he amended, covering for his curtness, “I like moving around.”

“But if you found someplace you loved more than others . . . would you stay put?”

“I won’t.”

He said it with such certainty, she bit back the only reply that came to mind, a strangely disgruntled, Oh.

“No high-maintenance lady for Heath,” Grey said.

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