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That boy was long gone. He didn’t have anything to prove any more. Not to Xanthe, not to himself, not to anyone. He’d made a staggering success of his life. Had worked like a dog to get to college and ace his qualification as a maritime architect, then developed an award-winning patent that with a clever investment strategy had turned a viable business into a multimillion-dollar marine empire—not to mention acing the America’s Cup twice with his designs.
He had more than enough money now to waste on bottles of pricey fizz that he rarely drank. Getting hung up on the past now was redundant.
She’d thought she loved him once and, like the sad little bastard he’d been then, he’d sucked up every ounce of her affection—all those tender touches, the adoring looks, all her sweet, stupid talk about love and feelings.
But he wasn’t that sad little bastard any more. He knew exactly what he wanted and needed now. And love didn’t even hit the top ten.
He sat on deck, wolfing down the food she’d made for him and watching the phosphorescent glow of the algae shine off the water in the boat’s wake while a very different kind of hunger gnawed at his gut.
He didn’t need Xanthe’s love any more, but her body was another matter—because, whether she liked it or not, they both knew that had always and would always belong to him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
XANTHE STEADIED HERSELF by slapping a hand on the table the following morning and glared at the hatch as the boat’s hull rocked to one side. How fast was he driving this thing? It felt as if they were flying.
Luckily she’d already found her sea legs which, to her surprise and no small amount of dismay, were just where she’d left them the last time she’d been sailing—ten years ago. With Dane.
The boat lurched again, but her stomach stayed firmly in place.
Don’t get mad. That had been her mistake yesterday. She needed to save herself for the big battles—like getting him to sign the divorce papers. Provoking him was counterproductive.
After a night of interrupted sleep, her body humming with awareness while she listened to him moving about in the salon on his short trips below deck, she knew just how counterproductive.
Given the meteoric rise in the temperature during their argument yesterday, she needed to be careful. Knowing Dane, and his pragmatic attitude to sex, he wouldn’t exert too much effort to keep the temperature down, even if it threatened to blaze out of control. So it would be up to her to do that for both of them.
Xanthe poured herself a mug of the strong coffee she’d found brewing on the stove and added cream and sugar, adjusting to the sway of the boat like a pro.
&n
bsp; While she wasn’t keen to see Dane, she couldn’t stay down here indefinitely. Early-morning sunlight glowed through the windows that ran down the side of the boat. Each time the hull heeled to starboard she could see the horizon stretching out before them.
Her pulse jumped and skittered, reminding her of the days they’d spent on the water before, and how much she’d enjoyed that sense of freedom and exhilaration. Of course back then she’d believed Dane would keep her safe. That he cared about her even if he couldn’t articulate it.
She knew better now.
Good thing she didn’t need a man to keep her safe any longer.
She dumped the last of the coffee into the sink and tied her hair back in a knot.
She wasn’t scared of Dane, or her reaction to him, so it was way past time she stopped hiding below deck.
Even so, her heart gave a definite lurch—to match the heel of the boat—when she climbed out of the cabin and spotted Dane standing at the wheel. On the water, with his long legs braced against the swell, his big capable hands steering the boat with relaxed confidence and his gaze focused on the horizon, he looked even more dominant and, yes—damn it—sexy. Her pulse jumped, then sank into her abdomen, heading back to exactly where she did not need it to be.
She shut the door to the cabin with a frustrated snap. His gaze dropped to hers. Her face heated at the thorough inspection.
‘You finished sulking yet, Princess?’ His deep voice carried over the flap of canvas and the rush of wind.
Her temper spiked at the sardonic tone. ‘I wasn’t sulking,’ she said. ‘I was having some coffee and now I plan to do some sunbathing.’
After a night lying awake in her cabin and listening to him crewing the boat alone, she had planned to offer to help out this morning. She needed to get him to sign those papers, and she’d never been averse to good honest work, but his surly attitude and that ‘princess’ comment had fired up her indignation again.
She’d be damned if she’d let his snarky comments and his low opinion of her and her motives get to her.
Ignoring him, she faced into the wind, letting it whip at her hair and sting her cheeks. The sea was empty as far as the eye could see, the bright, cloudless blue of the sky reflecting off the brilliant turquoise water. She licked her lips, tasted salt and sun...and contemplated making herself a mimosa later.
Gosh, she’d missed this. Despite having the fellow traveller from hell on board, maybe this trip wouldn’t be a complete nightmare. But as she reached to swing herself up onto the main deck, a bulky life jacket smacked onto the floor of the cockpit in front of her.
‘No sunbathing, princess, until you put that on and clip yourself to the safety line.’
