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In fact, at thirty-five, I don’t need more than a few minutes of conversation with someone to read them, and Captain Bentley Williams is nothing but a vain asshole. What I really want to do is walk around and talk to some of the staff members randomly.
I’m about to get up when I notice a delicious pair of legs in a miniskirt at the entrance of the room.
Yes, apair of legsbecause she carries a tray twice her size. Unable to see her face, I follow her with my eyes.
She’s tall, but she has delicate feet inside terrible pumps. Her hips are slim but mesmerizing, swaying sensually when she walks.
For a moment, I forget who’s around me, too eager to see more of her.
Christos
CHAPTER THREE
I’m vaguelyaware that someone is talking to me, but I’m too interested in finding out all about the goddess to pay any attention whatsoever.
Long legs and blonde hair are my weaknesses, and that’s all I can see at the moment; I’m itching to find out to whom they belong. Thin, almost platinum hair and endless legs are enough to completely bewitch me.
The tray she’s holding looks impossibly heavy for such a delicate frame, and my suspicions are confirmed when the glasses swing dangerously on it.
Another waitress shows up to help, and then, finally, I’m able to admire the whole picture—of her back. Like it’s a game of hide-and-seek, she turns around before I can see her face.
And yet, the little I see is enough to make my pulse quicken.
I’m not the poetic type, but I swear to God, I feel like I’m seeing an angel.
My main business is fashion, so I have a keen eye for bodies, and the girl whose name I don’t know would make an excellent runway model. With a body like that, she could show up dressed in garbage bags and would still be the only one seen by the audience.
I could imagine her hair being longer, flowing down in a delicate wavy waterfall, down her narrow shoulders.
I assume that without the high heels, she’s about six inches shorter than my six-foot-four, but her body is all female.
I’m totally focused on her, and that’s not normal for me. I love sex and women, but nothing takes my attention away from what’s going on around me.
Even before she turns around, I grab my cell and send a text canceling my date. I don’t sleep with more than one woman at a time, and there’s no chance I’ll spend the night with that actress when the mystery blonde awakens my body.
I type fast.
“Have fun in the suite. Order whatever you want. An unforeseen event arose. You will be compensated for it.”
I make a mental note to ask my assistant to send her a piece of jewelry. I turn off my phone right away because I don’t deal well with complaints or demands, and from my vast experience with women, I know that’s what’s to come.
“Christos, do you want a tour of the ship?” Frank asks beside me.
“What?” I’m finally aware that there are other people with me, but at that exact moment, the blonde turns, almost in slow motion.
Her beauty makes me dizzy.
She is stunning.
Her delicate nose, full-lipped mouth, and blue eyes with a hint of Asian descent, make an exotic contrast to the ensemble.
I see beauty every day, and to be honest, it gets tiring, even boring, after a while.
But the woman in front of me is perfect and unique. I have never seen a face with such striking features. She has translucent skin and the eyes of a Japanese woman.
Her breasts are small—as far as I can tell with the ugly front of her uniform obscuring them—but she’s very sensual, as if her body was built for pleasure.
Look at me, I command, as if my thoughts have the strength to make her obey me.
