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I check his face, for any signs of regret. Nothing.
“I didn’t realise what the time was,” I stutter. “I’m not usually so?—”
Gabriel stops me, dropping a kiss on my open mouth. My body relaxes against his.
“The purpose of this weekend is rest and relaxation. You had a late night,” he says, pulling me into his arms.
Is that a smirk I see gracing his lips? Did he just wink at me?
If I didn’t know better, I’d think this mischievous person in front of me was Caleb.
As if summoned, Caleb bounds up the stairs, looking as fresh as a daisy. No sign of his marathon sex session the night before.
“Morning, Gabriel, Leah,” he says, snagging a fresh croissant from the table and taking an enormous bite.
“Morning, brother dearest. I take it you had a good night? At least, from the sound of it, you did,” Gabriel says drily, still holding me against him.
Caleb shoots me an awkward side glance. “Sorry if we were loud.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from laughing.
“Where are your lady friends?” Gabriel asks.
“Er, they headed back to their hotel. I’m going to leave you two alone and join them there. Give you love birds some privacy.”
A contrite Caleb is cute and makes him look much younger than he is.
“Have fun,” I say, grinning.
Caleb groans. “Were we really that loud?”
Gabriel growls. “You probably kept the entire marina awake.”
As twins, they couldn’t be more different, or so I thought. Then I think back to Gabriel in bed. When Caleb covers his face, it’s not the action I expect from the playboy, but then I doubt he expected family members and friends to overhear his sexploits.
Caleb steps forward and kisses me on the cheek. “You look good on him,” he says, winking at me, making my eyes widen. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he adds, slapping Gabriel on the back.
“Get out of here,” Gabriel growls.
Caleb leans past us and steals another croissant before leaving down the stairs and off the yacht.
Gabriel picks up two plates and moves to the table. The sun is shining, and the Marina is a hive of activity. Gabriel’s yacht is enormous, and from the upper deck, we have a perfect view of our surroundings.
“Juice?” I ask Gabriel as he sets the plates down.
“Please,” he replies.
His eyes sear into me as I turn and pour us both cold, freshly squeezed juice from the chilled jug.
Wandering over to the table, I take a seat.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Gabriel asks, sitting back in his chair, his fingers steepled.
His eyes are dark, his face a mask. This is calculating Gabriel.
“Amazing,” I say, watching as a twinkle sparks in the dark depths. I stretch before I can stop myself, the movement pushing my chest towards him.
His eyes darken, and he runs his tongue over his lips. “Good,” he says before breaking our gaze. “I intend to rinse and repeat several times this weekend.”
