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“You should have come out on the jet ski instead of yelling at me,” I say, annoyed. Looking around, there’s no sign of anybody other than Alonso and me. “And where is this yacht?”
“It’s moved on now. Come, let’s get you to shore.”
Alonso hasn’t noticed my predicament and is dragging me to the jet ski. He hoists himself onto it and offers me his hand to pull me up.
“I can’t,” I tell him, and he looks at me, puzzled. “I lost my top,” I explain.
“Oh,” Alonso says, looking anywhere but me.
I laugh to myself. That’s so cute. The big burly man is flustered by my semi-nudity.
I’m sure if he could, he’d offer me his shirt, but he’s not wearing one. Wearing only board shorts, his naked, wet chest glistens in the sun.
Hmm, he’s really well built. While I have no desire for the man, I appreciate a good chest.
Looking straight ahead, he holds out his arm for me. “Let me help you up. I won’t look.”
I hesitate. “Can you see my top anywhere?”
He scans the water around us but shakes his head. “Sorry, I think it’s gone.”
Reaching out his hand again, I take it this time. What other choice do I have? I certainly don’t want to swim back to shore.
With a sigh, I let him pull me up. Trying not to sit too close to him, I debate what to hold on to. Alonso starts the engine, and the jet ski launches forward before I decide, and I’m promptly flung backward and hit the water again.
Laughing this time, I come up for air, hearing Alonso swear.
“Shall we try again?” I call to him, still giggling, and we go through the same procedure again.
“Hold on to me,” he instructs, and reluctantly, I place my hands on his hips. I’m not sure why, but it feels inappropriate, and I’m certain Tiero wouldn’t like my hands on another man... even under these circumstances.
When we get back to shore, we sit for a moment, contemplating how best to proceed.
“My towel is over at the daybed. How about I’ll fetch it, and you just don’t look?”
“Okay,” Alonso agrees curtly, struggling for composure. I wonder if he’s picturing Tiero’s reaction to seeing his woman half-naked. Ah well, at most, he’ll get a glimpse of my naked back. I can live with that.
Once my towel is wrapped securely around me, I give Alonso the all clear. His jump off the jet ski is followed by a loud, pained curse.
Blood colors the water. Will this attract sharks? Better not go swimming again today.
“What happened?” I ask, rushing to his side as he hobbles out onto the sand.
“I cut my foot.”
Come on, what else can go wrong today? No, scratch that. That’s an awful question to ask, and I don’t need the universe to show me.
“Let’s get you to the house. There has to be a first aid kit there.” I wrap my arm around him for support, praying the towel will not come undone. Together, we stagger up the path until we reach the house. I sit him down on a lounger and rush inside to locate what I need to clean and bandage his wound.
Alonso hisses as I clean the cut. Blood is still streaming from it, and I try hard not to show how queasy it makes me feel.
“Can we not mention any of this to the boss?” Alonso asks carefully, making me smile.
“Works for me. I don’t think Tiero needs to know you saw my boobs,” I tease.
“I didn’t see anything,” he replies too quickly, making me laugh out loud.
“You need to rest your foot for a while,” I tell him. “Do you want to play cards?”
