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She touched the soft hair of his forearm. ‘What are you so upset about?’
The sinews in his arm tensed, and the muscle in his jaw bunched. But that was his only reaction to the question.
He grasped a lever on the dashboard, which looked like a throttle. ‘You wanted to ride,’ he said, yanking the lever down. ‘So let’s see what this baby can do.’
The engine roared, lifting them up and throwing Eva back against the seat. Then the boat powered across the water as if catapulted out of a sling, skimming over the choppy surface as they shot towards the sun. Eva’s bottom bounced on the bench, the wind and spray refreshing as she screwed up her eyes and held on tight, the punch of adrenaline making her heart pound.
Nick stood, his hands gripped on the steering wheel as he negotiated the leisure traffic with practised ease.
He looked fierce, indomitable. And yet she’d seen the moment of vulnerability when his gaze had met hers in the dining salon. Meeting Don Vincenzo, learning about his biological father had been hard for him. Probably much harder than he had imagined or would ever admit. And her heart went out to him, even if he didn’t want it to.
Minutes passed as they drove to the far end of the lake, leaving the crowds of smaller craft and the heavily developed shoreline behind. Heading back into the shallows, the boat rounded a rocky outcropping and entered a quiet cove. The engine slowed as they approached a ramshackle dock that listed to one side. A stone shrine topped with a crucifix nestled among the plants and bushes edging the water.
She had no idea where they were as Nick eased the throttle down and the boat kicked and settled in the water. But wherever they were, they were alone. The gentle lap of the water on the powerboat’s hull the only sound above the rasp of her own breathing. She could feel the prickle of heat and anticipation shimmering over her skin, the mist from their ride dampening her cotton blouse but doing nothing to cool the heat pulsing through her veins. His hooded gaze locked on her face, the fine spray of water on his hair sending it into unruly furrows as he whisked it back from his forehead.
He looked wild and untamed, the anger when she’d jumped on board replaced by fierce arousal. But the harsh desire on his face didn’t frighten her, because she’d had time to think about what she was letting herself in for.
Nick wasn’t looking for love or commitment. But then neither was she. He was a complex man, who guarded his feelings and his vulnerabilities and, she suspected, found it next to impossible to trust anyone because of the circumstances of his birth. She’d really have to be a romantic fool to think that she, with her limited knowledge of relationships, could have any hope of changing that.
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t share something worthwhile together for the short time they had. He’d warned her that this could only ever be a purely sexual adventure. But she already knew it was more than that. Because whatever Nick wanted to believe, she already cared about him, and he cared about her.
Propping his butt on the control panel, he crossed his legs at the ankle and beckoned her with his forefinger. ‘Come here,’ he said, his voice husky with hunger.
She stood still, the desire burning.
Leaning forward, he hooked his forefinger in the waistband of her skirt and yanked. ‘I said, come here.’
She stumbled towards him, flattened her palms on his chest. Rough, urgent hands lifted her skirt, caressed her thighs and moulded her buttocks, his lips fastening on her throat, his teeth nipping at the place where her pulse hammered.
She dropped her head back to give him better access, ground her backside into his palms, whispering: ‘I thought you wanted to be alone?’
‘Not any more,’ he growled, the demand urgent in his voice. Rough hands snuck under the waistband of her panties, then ruthless fingers found the zip on her skirt and dragged it down.
She looped her arms round his neck, hoping he couldn’t feel the quiver of trepidation as he sat on the bench seat and yanked her down to straddle his lap.
She grasped his shoulders as he captured her mouth. Moist heat flooded between her thighs, his erection confined by soft denim rubbing against the damp cotton of her panties as she let the hunger that had built in the last two days consume her.
She rode his length, revelled in his staggered breathing and threaded her fingers into the hair at his nape. Then urgent seduction turned to violent need. He ripped at her blouse, buttons popping. She dragged his T-shirt over his head, exploring the ridged steel of his abdomen, the velvet steel of his chest.
The brown of his irises darkened before his mouth covered her breast through the delicate lace of her bra. She cried out, the keening sound of pleasure echoing away on the breeze as he tasted and teased with his teeth, then suckled strongly. Eva bowed back, arching into his mouth to feel more, to take more. Clever fingers released the bra’s hook, peeled away the wet lace. She shivered, the nipple tightening, swelling. His lips feasted on naked flesh: hot, hard, perfect.
She lost focus, delirious with longing and exhilaration. He needed this, needed her as much as she needed him.
He swore softly, banded his arms round her waist. ‘Hold on,’ he croaked, lifting them off the bench together. ‘We’re taking this below deck.’
She wrapped her legs round his waist, clung on, as her dazed brain registered the rumbling hum of a passing speedboat. He staggered down the steps into the boat’s cabin, then strode through the galley to the bedroom.
She landed on the wide double bed that took up most of the compact space. Rising on her elbows, she watched him kicking off his deck shoes, struggling out of his jeans and boxer shorts, then grabbing a small foil packet from the back pocket.
Her breath expelled in a rush. He looked magnificent. But she wasn’t worried any more. Rising on her knees, she touched the powerful erection. Marvelling at the hardness, she cupped the generous weight of him in her palm.
Gazing up, she met eyes ablaze with arousal. ‘Can I kiss you there?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he groaned.
He threaded her fingers through his, pulling them away from his flesh before he rolled on the condom.
He climbed on the bed, forcing her back. Cradling her cheek, his fingers trailed down her neck to stroke the curve of her collarbone. ‘Later,’ he murmured. ‘Or this is going to be over way too soon.’
