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She hadn’t expected his apology. She hadn’t expected him to be reasonable. Tears clawed at the back of her throat; she spun away, inhaling deeply.
“Come on. I’ll show you the library.”
It was hard not to like someone, even a little, who had a floating library on the sea, and that’s exactly what she saw when he led her deeper into the bowels of the boat.
“Staff living quarters,” he indicated a double wide door, then turned left. “And the books.” He pushed into a huge room with shelves lining every wall, filled with books upon books upon books. Gentle light was offered by overhead LEDs, set to dim.
“How many staff are on board?”
“I don’t know, exactly. During winter, it’s a skeleton crew. Now, it’s at least three times that number. There are cooks, cleaners, maintenance workers, two captains. It’s a substantial operation. I entertain on here, from time to time—corporate dinners, parties—,”
“Sex?” She interrupted, unable to help the rush of heat that flooded her cheeks.
“I thought we’d called a ceasefire?” He asked, dangerously close, so there was no ceasefire in sight, only the pounding of a drum, the strafing of bullets so close to her skin she shuddered.
“You’re enabling one of my hobbies,” she pointed out, gesturing to the books.
“Are you offering to enable one of mine?”
Her lips parted at the double entendre and she shook her head quickly. “I was just making conversation.”
His laugh was unnerving. “To answer your question, then, no, generally. This is not somewhere I bring women.”
“Why not? It’s very romantic.”
“You answered your own question.”
“Did I?”
“Romance is not a part of what I offer.”
“Of course not. You’re more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kinda guy?”
“That’s putting it crudely.”
“But accurate?”
He lifted his shoulders. “I don’t generally hear complaints.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
Her cheeks heated as she heard the words tumble from her lips and lifted a hand, covering her mouth. “I didn’t mean—that wasn’t—,”
“Acknowledgement of my prowess?” He teased, so she felt as though he was laughing at her.
“Right.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I meant…Oh, I don’t know.”
His grin showed he knew exactly what she’d meant, and she honestly wished the floor would open up and swallow her, deep into the bowels of the ocean.
“I date,” he said after a pause, moving deeper into the library, so his face was cast in shadow. He scanned a finger across one shelf, then removed a book. “But brief affairs are more my style. A few dates, perhaps a week or two. Nothing serious.”
“Why not?”
He angled his face to hers. “What do you mean?”
“Why avoid serious relationships?”
His eyes narrowed, as if the idea had never occurred to him. “Why not?” He turned her question back on her. “What’s to gain?”
