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Three hands stuck out of the shrubs and waved.
“I told them to stay hidden and to stay away from you. These shots have to appear authentic—if there’s any appearance of staging, it’ll come back to bite us. So you don’t talk to the guys, and the guys don’t talk to you.”
“And the guys don’t look at my wife,” Bryce growled. He turned toward the shrubs. “And if my wife and I are gettingpersonal, the guys will leave immediately. Is that understood?”
There were three thumbs up from the bushes.
“Excellent.” Bryce took my hand. “Then it appears we’re going to dinner, and the paparazzi are following us.”
The fact that my husband seemed all right with the photographers, the staging, Olivia Jensen, all of it was evidence of something… Perhaps hell was freezing over?
I followed him to the boat, intent on finding out.
SIXTEEN
date night
We sat outsideon the yacht’s built-in couch. The camera crew had taken a skiff and were following us, as were two other boats filled with paparazzi.Hmm.There would be pictures of us, all right. We needed to keep our game faces on.
Bryce pulled me onto his lap and kept his arms around me the entire ride. It reminded me of when I’d first come up to MDI, and he’d made a big show of being all over me in public. Back then, I’d been petrified of him. I remembered how strange it had felt, how foreign, to be in his embrace. So much had changed. He’d taken me since then, made mehis. And after being together all afternoon, our embrace seemed natural, familiar…necessary.
Dangerously necessary.
Still, I was being paid to do a job, and I was going to do it, dammit. I was kidding myself, of course. Kidding myself that the money was the reason, I ran my hands over his shoulders, smiling down at him from my perch atop his lap. Kidding myself that the butterflies in my stomach were somehow related to cold hard cash, not in response to the fact that his hands were possessively holding my hips.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Yes.” He kissed me, lips firm against mine. “But not for lobster.”
“Ha ha.” I squirmed as he tightened his grip on my waist. “I think you’ve had enough for one day!”
“You’re kidding, right?” He pulled me closer, and I felt yetanothercolossal erection.
“You’vegotto be kidding.” I raised my eyebrows. “You’re a machine.”
He looked smug. “Apparently.”
“Ha!” I threw my arms around his neck. “None of that right now. These pictures need to be internet-friendly.”
“Fine. But I reserve the right to take you below-deck on the way home.”
“Fine,” I said, blushing with pleasure. Bryce wanted meagain. It had to be a world record!
We reached Spruce Island, and Johnny, our captain, navigated expertly into the one free parking spot on the dock. He quickly tied the boat up. Captain Johnny was older, tall and trim, with thick white hair beneath his cap. Bryce had lured him out of retirement after Joren, the previous captain, had dared to talk to me one-on-one while Bryce wasn’t onboard. He’d been fired immediately. I still felt guilty about that. I also felt guilty about the waiter I’d gotten fired, the one from the benefit dinner Daphne and I had organized…Ugh.Per the terms of the new contract, I wasn’t allowed to speak to any males unless Bryce was there. Maybe it was for the best, I mused. The young men of MDI would be safer that way!
Bryce helped me from the boat while Captain Johnny watched the harbor. “I can’t believe you’ve got boats following you. I’ve never seen that in all my years.”
Bryce scowled out at the water. “Our” photographers were in a small skiff, their zoom lenses trained on us. The three other boats were filled to the brim with paparazzi eagerly taking pictures of us, the restaurant, and the dock.
A maritime police boat appeared from the channel and cruised over. Bryce and Johnny watched with interest. “Those boys are going to get in trouble up here,” the captain noted. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders messing with our locals.”
Bryce sighed. “I’m sorry to be causing such a circus.”
Johnny straightened his shoulders. “Absolutely not, Mr. Windsor. You’ve done nothing wrong. Our society’s the thing that’s gone all haywire—everybody lookin’ at their cell phones instead of each other’s faces. People want to read about your story instead of living their own lives. It’s a shame you’re being bothered if you ask me.”
“Thank you, Johnny.” Bryce seemed touched. “I am sure am glad your wife let you out of retirement.”
“Just don’t tell her I’m sticking around!” The captain grinned. “Like I said, that woman had me canning tomatoes. This is much more dignified.” With a nod—and a glare in the direction of the photographers—he hopped back on the boat.
