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She shrugs. “I’ve known you for a long time, and it’s not the same anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve just given me a lovely compliment, but I know you’d never be interested in me.”
“What makes you say that?”
She laughs. “I’m hardly your type. I’m not a D cup, for a start.” Her eyes dance.
“Aw. I’m not that shallow.”
“I’ve seen photos online of you with some of the women you’ve dated. They’re all tall and blonde with big boobs. You’re telling me you really chose them for their conversation?”
My lips twist. “Sometimes.”
“Oh, come on. And look at me.” She brushes a hand down herself. “You have to accept I’m not model material.”
She speaks quite frankly, without self-pity. She really doesn’t think she’s attractive.
Pushing aside the warning voice in my head, I say, “You might not be tall, and you’re not blonde, but you’re stunning, Belle, and you’resexy as.”
She pushes me. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You think I can’t see the longing in your eyes when you look at me, but I can. You’d be a firecracker in bed, given half the chance.”
Her jaw drops again, but this time she laughs. “Damon!”
“Ah, come on. You think I’ve never noticed what you looked like in your bikini whenever we had beach parties? You’ve got a fantastic figure. You’re smart. Funny. Interesting. Beautiful. Why’d you think I called you ma belle? I’d date you in seconds, if you weren’t Alex’s kid sister.”
She stares at me. Her eyes are filled with wonder. Enjoying that, I hold her gaze.
“You’re kidding me,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “But youareAlex’s little sis. And I’m older than you. You need someone your own age, so you can discover things together, a step at a time.”
Her gaze drops to my mouth. “What if I don’t want someone my own age?”
I should stop this now. We’re getting far too intimate. But the sun is setting, and the lounge is almost deserted. The movement of the boat is enough to make my stomach flip with each dip and swell of the waves, adding to the unsettled feeling she’s giving me.
“You don’t want me,” I tell her firmly.
“Don’t tell me what I want,” she says, a little sharply. “Cole did that all the time.”
“I’m sorry,” I say gently. “But I’m not suitable for you.”
“I thought you were single.”
“I am. But like I said, you’re too young.”
She snorts. “You’re only six years older than me.”
“At this age, that’s a vast gulf.” I shift to the edge of my seat, waiting for the boat to pitch down before I get up, and give a short laugh at the look on her face. “Don’t pout.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“Yes, you are. Don’t tell me, you have a brat kink?”
Her eyes widen. “What’s that?”
