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“You’re good at that.”
His smile was cynical. “It wasn’t rocket science.”
“Easier to take out than put in,” she responded with a hint of pique.
“I don’t doubt it.” He pressed the helmet into place on her head then slid on his own. “We’re not going far.”
A minute later, he wished that weren’t true. She felt impossibly good wrapped around his back, her arms holding him tight as he drove through the balmy summer’s evening towards the yacht club. The lights danced in the distance; he sped towards them, cutting the engine only once he reached the Yacht Club carpark.
“You’re…hiding me at a yacht club?”
“No.” He nodded towards the marina. “I’m hiding you out at sea.”
Her lips parted. “You’re serious?”
He nodded once. A rush of excitement ran the length of her spine. It was wrong but she felt as though she were standi
ng on the brink of adventure and suddenly all she wanted was to step onto the ledge and experience all it had to offer.
“And you’re coming too?”
“Did you think I’d strand you on your own in the middle of the Bay of Biscay?”
She lifted a single shoulder. “I’m learning to expect surprises.”
“No more surprises tonight.” He reached for her hand. “I promise.”
She believed him. They walked in silence along the marina, past boat after boat after boat, until he stopped at a catamaran that was both beautiful and somehow dependable.
“This one?”
He nodded once, gesturing to the stairs at the back. They were pressed neatly against the marina decking.
She slid off her high heels, holding them in one hand and placing her other on the railing, moving up with a speed born of curiosity. She couldn’t say why, but her heart was racing, and she suspected it had a lot to do with the fact she was seeing a part of Noah Storm’s world that he didn’t routinely share.
He followed behind her, immediately turning on a light on the deck, offering her a distracted smile before he began to busy himself with the boat, hauling ropes, flicking switches. She stood by, wishing she could offer help, but with a very limited experience of sailing, figured she’d be more of a hindrance than anything else.
“Feel free to head downstairs and freshen up. Grab yourself a drink, something to eat. I’ll let you know when I’ve dropped anchor.”
She nodded, but didn’t move, couldn’t look away, as he took up position on the windward side, right behind the wheel, and began to expertly navigate the catamaran out of the marina, cruising past the other boats with obvious skill, showing that he did this often.
“This is yours?”
“Yes.”
“You sail?”
“When I can.”
“Not such a workaholic after all.”
He lifted one brow as he turned to face her and Max’s heart skipped a beat. “I can work from the boat. It has state of the art satellite communications. I’m just as effective from the middle of the ocean as I am in any office in the world.”
She could well imagine it.
“Max?”
She nodded once.
