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The warmth of the morning sun beat down on us as my breathy moan met his tattered groan—fuelling us ever harder into something that should be so tender but was so utterly violent.
I matched his ferocity with my own. My fingers clutched at his hair, tugging for more, more.
I forgot myself. I forgot we were in open view of the staff. I forgot about the past few days and the fear of what was coming. I forgot about everything but him.
But Elder didn’t forget.
He tore himself away, backing up and rubbing his mouth as if desperate for another kiss but determined to only take one. “Pim…”
His voice bordered on a reproach. As if that kiss was my fault.
Was it my fault?
I would take responsibility for some of it, but he was too strong for me to manhandle if he didn’t want it.
Leaping off the lifeboat, I stood with my hands on my hips. “If you say something like that was a mistake, or it won’t happen again or any other stupid cliché, I’m going to…to…”
A slight smirk twisted his lips. “You’re going to what?”
“I don’t know. Throw you overboard.”
“The captain would stop.” He crossed his arms, enjoying my temper.
“Fine, I’d—I’d hit you on the head with an oar.”
His gaze went to the lifeboat oars resting neatly in their brackets. “Those weigh a ton. Even I wouldn’t be able to use it as a weapon.”
“You’re taking all the fun out of my hypothetically harming you.” I hid my smile even as one brewed. “Let a girl have some fantasies.”
He cocked his head. “You have fantasies about me?”
And just like that, we were back to the dilemma of sparking attraction, high-octane lust, and the unbearable need to touch, thrust, and consume.
Goosebumps prickled as said fantasies that included nakedness and no weapons filled my mind.
Elder’s lips parted, picking up on the way my chest rose and my fingers fluttered to touch him again. “Well?”
Stepping toward him, I nodded. “I can’t stop having fantasies about you. If you know of a cure, then please…tell me.”
Any hint of joking and games vanished as his shoulders slouched and he rubbed his face with one hand. “If I knew that cure, I’d take it myself.”
I schooled myself not to be hurt. He hadn’t meant he wanted to be cured of me, just like I hadn’t meant I wanted to be cured of him. We both just wanted to find a way through this minefield of my past and his obsession and learn how to be together without an airport of unclaimed baggage following us around.
“Ah, sir?” A staff member appeared, carrying a small tray with two coffee cups. “As you requested.”
Elder nodded respectfully as he claimed both drinks. “Thank you. Please tell the chef we’re ready for breakfast if that suits.”
“Right away.” The man bowed, gave me a smile, then returned the way he’d come with his now empty tray.
I eyed Elder’s new possessions. “Didn’t sleep last night?”
He spun to face me, suspicion written all over his face. “What makes you say that?”
For some reason, I got the distinct impression he hadn’t slept. That my blasé comment had hit a nerve. What did he get up to yesterday after I overhead his conversation? I hadn’t heard his cello, but that didn’t mean he didn’t play.
After I’d locked my door, I’d slept surprisingly well. I didn’t know what that said about my state of mind, but for the first time, I wasn’t on high alert waiting for someone—friend or foe—to come through the door uninvited.
“Double coffee.” I pointed at the two cups.
He shook his head, dispelling whatever he’d been thinking. “One of them is for you.” Coming toward me, he held out the cup.
I took it gently, careful not to spill the creamy flower design made from the milk on top. “You knew I’d be here?”
“I saw you from the bridge.” He pointed at the highest point of the yacht where the shadows of staff and captain hinted that just because we weren’t looking where we were sailing didn’t mean countless other people weren’t.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he added, “I went to see Jolfer this morning. Wanted to confirm the route to England. I spotted you sitting on the lifeboat and figured I owed you an apology.”
“Back to the apology.”
He nodded. “Back to that.” He took another sip. “I’m sorry for abandoning you the past two days, and I’m sorry if I made you feel anything but welcome. I…I love having you here with me and haven’t done a very good job of showing that.”
I didn’t want to tell him I’d been reading between the lines long enough that I understood more than I should. That he loved me being here but cursed himself for not being able to take advantage. That he loved spending time with me but didn’t trust himself to keep it purely platonic.
