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‘What the hell are you doing here?’
She ignored the shout and kept her attention on the pilot boat’s captain. ‘I’ll be in touch in approximately twenty minutes. And I’ll double your fee if you leave us now.’
Dane didn’t want her on board, which meant he would have to listen to reason. It wasn’t much of a bargaining chip, but it was the only one she had.
‘Okay, ma’am.’ The pilot boat captain tipped his hat as his nervous gaze flicked to Dane and back. ‘If you say so.’
The boat’s engine roared to life. The captain had peeled the nimble vessel away from the yacht, obviously keen to avoid unnecessary confrontation, and was headed towards the marina when Dane reached her.
‘Where is he going?’
She turned to face him. ‘He’s returning to the harbour and will come to pick me up once I give him the signal.’
Her rioting heartbeat slammed into her throat.
He looked furious, his face rigid with temper.
‘Is this some kind of joke? Get off my boat.’
‘No.’ She locked her knees, forcing her chin up. ‘Not until you sign the divorce papers.’ She dumped the briefcase at his feet. ‘I have a new set in there to replace the ones which fell victim to your temper tantrum at the hotel.’
His scowl darkened at the patronising comment, and the punch of adrenaline she’d felt after he’d stormed out on her returned full force. Bolstering her courage.
That’s right, you don’t have the tiniest notion who you’re dealing with now.
The slap of the sea against the hull and the cry of a nearby seabird pierced the silence as the seconds ticked by—seeming to morph into hours—and the rigid fury rippling through him threatened to ignite. With his tall, muscular body towering over her, and the dark stubble covering his rigid jaw he looked more disreputable than a pirate and a lot more volatile.
She forced herself to resist flinching under the contemptuous appraisal as his gaze scoured her skin. Okay, maybe she’d underestimated the extent of his anger. But showing him any weakness would be the height of folly, because Dane would exploit it. The way he had exploited it once before. When she’d been young and naive and completely besotted with him.
His T-shirt was moulded to the wall of pecs in the breeze, the pushed-up sleeves revealing his tattoo, which bulged as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared her down. The sweet spot between Xanthe’s thighs hummed, the unwanted arousal tangling with the punch of adrenaline to make anxiety scream under her breastbone like a crouching tiger waiting to pounce.
‘What makes you think I won’t haul you overboard?’
The ice-blue of his eyes made her brutally aware that this was no idle threat.
‘Go ahead and try it.’ She braced herself, prepared for the worse, bunching her hands into fists by her side. After the last twenty-four hours spent chasing him across the Atlantic she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
And, if the worst came to the worst, she could survive the two-mile swim back to the marina...
If she absolutely had to.
* * *
What the ever-loving—?
Dane cut off the profanity in his head, desire already pooling in his groin like liquid nitrogen.
To say he was shocked to see Xanthe was a
n understatement of epic proportions. Maybe not as stunned as when she’d shown up in Manhattan to inform him they were still married. But close.
She was the only woman, apart from his mother, who had ever managed to hurt him. And while he knew she couldn’t hurt him any more, because he was wise to her, he hadn’t planned to test the theory. Especially on the vacation he had been looking forward to for months. Hell, years.
This was supposed to be a chance for him to get some much needed R & R. To enjoy the simplicity of being out on the water with nothing to worry about but keeping his course steady and the wind in his sails.
But as she stood in front of him, her lush hair dancing around her head in a mass of fire and those feline eyes glittering with defiance, he couldn’t deny the leap of adrenaline.
When was the last time a woman had challenged him or excited him this much? Xanthe was the only one who had ever come close. But the girl he’d married was a shadow of the woman she was now.
