AllFreeNovel
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I cock my head. “Go on.”
“My dad took me on a jet boat along Lake Geneva when I was eight. We travelled fast, and it was exhilarating. We tore through the water as Dad showed off his moves. Then he put me on his lap, fastened his seatbelt over me, and let me drive—that crazy old man,” he chuckles.
The way he speaks of his father warms my heart. I see happiness in his eyes, a far cry from the last time he told me about Graeme Hartley.
He continues, “He got an earful from Mom when she found out. Dad taught me to trust the water. I did, I could feel it, but then he said, ‘And this too,’ putting his hand on my heart. I thought he meant that I had to be brave.” Rob looks into my eyes, and then completes his story. “Only now I fully understand what that means—to trust my heart.”
I trail my fingers along the side of his face. “So you’ve made peace with him?”
“I’m getting there. I can smile thinking about him now,” he says. “But the moral of the story is, please trust me on this. I got dressed up just for you.”
Rob is sinfully hot when he’s naked, and when he rescued me,mamma mia, he looked every bit the handsome badass hero in that wetsuit. His hair dripping wet, his face battle-weary, and his hard body forming a fortress around me. I might’ve survived Aidan, but I died in Rob’s arms that night—willingly, beautifully. Right now though, wearing a tuxedo, he’s become the ultimate sex symbol who puts James Bond to shame.
My teeth find the outline of my lower lip. Recalling how rich men used to make me feel, I say, “If you were dressed like this when we first met, I would’ve turned away.”
He retracts, a frown forming on his forehead. “Why?”
“Tuxedo equals trouble,” I say, one hand on his shoulder, the other playing with his lapel.
“I’m a nice guy, whatever I wear.”
“I know.” I let him go and take a deep breath. “I’m actually feeling fine. You’re going to drive this thing?”
“Of course.” He takes my hand and guides me aboard. “Welcome to Lady Freedom. She’s a compact twenty-foot beauty designed for shorter, intimate sails.”
I take a seat behind him while he drives west across the Pacific Ocean. Past the Catalina Island, he slows down. “We’re almost there.”
I rise from my seat, gazing ahead. “Is that the Pentela?”
“You’ve got a good eye. Not the one that has a basketball court, but the one you were inspecting that night.”
My real-life Captain Robson berths Lady Freedom right next to the Pentela, while his crew helps with the ropework on the other side. Then the crew secures a ramp for our transfer.
“Rob! Now is the time to hold the mother of your child.” I extend my hand, making the most of my status as his protectee.
“I haven’t forgotten, my lady.” He catches my hand, and then puts his arm around me, leaving no room for doubt—you’re safe with me.
“Amber.” Rocky gives me a salute.
Why is Rocky here? Something is going on. “Hello, fancy meeting you here.” Then I look around. “Why are the windows blacked out?”
“Ignore that, just follow me,” Rob says, leading me to the stern.
I freeze in place when I see a mini-garden spread in front of me. “This is so beautiful.” I feel like I’ve been transported to his rose garden in Beverly Hills. A variety of roses in pots are laid out to form a path to—a submarine. “Are we getting onthat?”
“If you think I’m taking you to enjoy the sunset… well, you’re wrong,” Rob says, smirking.
I press a knuckle against my lips, thinking. Then I ask, “Is that the one that’s still a prototype and might not be safe?”
Rocky and Rob laugh.
“Don’t worry, Amber-Rose.” Rob takes me closer to the sub. “This is Hartley Sub-1, the Blue Scout’s big sister, andnota prototype. I’ve dived with this beauty over a dozen times, only it doesn’t have the capacity to dive below four thousand feet—unlike her younger sister, who’s designed to go as deep as thirteen thousand feet.”
I flash him a grin, telling him I’m impressed with both the roses and the submersible. I’m a water girl. With the condition of my left lung, the doctors have advised me not to dive, ever again—so I welcome the journey. It turns out, when Rob said it was a special date, hereallymeant it.
“By the way,” he adds, “Hartley Sub-1 will soon have her official name—Angel Shark.”
I flick up an eyebrow, saying, “Who came up with the name?”
