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Focus. You gave Joel your word that this was all pretend.
But as I adjust my tie in the mirror, I can’t quite banish the image of Caress in my arms, her body fitting against mine like she was made to be there. It’s going to be a long three days.
Taking one last glance in the mirror, I square my shoulders and head for the door. Time to put on the performance of a lifetime.God help me.
Chapter Three
Caress
A soft knock on my cabin door sends my heart racing. I take one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the emerald-green cocktail dress I’ve chosen for the sailaway party. It hugs my curves in all the right places, and I allow myself a small smile. At least I look good, even if I’m a mess of nerves on the inside.
I open the door and nearly swallow my tongue. Dylan stands there, looking like he just stepped out of a GQ photoshoot. His charcoal dress pants hug his legs in a way that should be illegal, and the crisp white button-down shirt stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned, muscular forearms. But it’s his hair that catches me off guard. Somehow, in the short time since I last saw him, he’s managed to style it into a perfectly tousled look that makes me want to run my fingers through it.
Get it together, Caress. This is all pretend.
“You look stunning,” Dylan says, his eyes roaming over me in a way that makes my skin tingle. He takes my hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Shall we, darling?”
The endearment, even spoken in jest, sends a shiver down my spine. I force a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as breathless as I feel. “Such a gentleman. Lead the way, honey.”
As we make our way to the Aqua Aura Pool Bar, I can’t help but steal glances at Dylan. The way his biceps strain against his shirt sleeves with each movement is frankly unfair. And don’t even get me started on how those pants hug his—
No. Stop it. Dylan is off-limits. Joel would murder us if we even thought otherwise.
But it’s not just his physical appearance that’s getting to me. It’s the confident yet considerate way he carries himself. The way he instinctively places his hand on the small of my back as we navigate through crowded areas. It reminds me of all the reasons I had a crush on him growing up. Reasons I’ve spent years trying to forget.
We step into the bar, and I’m momentarily distracted by the sheer extravagance of our surroundings. The Aqua Aura lives up to its name, with sleek blue and turquoise decor accented by cascading water features. Underwater lighting casts a soft, ethereal glow over everything, creating an atmosphere that’s equal parts serene and electric.
Dylan’s hand is still steady on the small of my back as he guides me through the crowd. “Champagne?” he asks, snagging two flutes from a passing waiter, one at a time.
I nod gratefully, taking a sip to calm my nerves. As we scan the room, I spot Joel and a man I assume must be Edward, the Market Sector Director, already seated at a table.
“Ready for this?” Dylan murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.
“As I’ll ever be,” I reply, plastering on my best professional smile as we approach the table.
Dylan steps forward, exuding charm and confidence. “Edward, great to finally meet you in person. I’m Dylan Carter, and this is my girlfriend, Caress Mitchell.”
I extend my hand, expecting a handshake, but Edward surprises me by bringing it to his lips instead. “Enchanted,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
Beside me, Dylan stiffens, his arm snaking around my waist as he clears his throat. “Shall we get down to business?”
We take the offered seats, and Dylan launches into his pitch for potential marketing campaigns for the Infinity Voyager, I find myself torn between admiration for his professional expertise and a growing awareness of his physical presence. The way his voice deepens when he’s making a point, the subtle flex of his jaw when he’s thinking, it’s all suddenly, achingly noticeable.
I can’t help but compare him to the men I’ve dated in the past. Trevor, with his manipulative charm and empty promises. Jake, who couldn’t commit to anything more serious than what to have for dinner. Or Chris, who saw me as arm candy for his social media posts. None of them ever made me feel as safe, respected, or valued as Dylan does.
“What do you think, Caress?” Dylan’s question snaps me back to attention. “You had some great ideas about social media engagement earlier.”
Before I can formulate a response, a familiar, unwelcome voice cuts through the air.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the ice queen herself.”
My blood runs cold as Trevor saunters up to our table with a cruel smirk playing on his lips. Dylan’s hand finds my leg under the table, giving it a calming squeeze, but it does little to quell the panic rising in my chest.
“Not now, Trevor,” I manage through gritted teeth, acutely aware of Edward’s curious gaze.
But Trevor, never one to take a hint, presses on. “Aw, come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I was just telling the boys here about that thing you used to do in bed—”
What happens next seems to unfold in slow motion. Dylan’s hand leaves my leg as he stands, his chair scraping loudly against the deck. Before I can process what’s happening, his fist connects with Trevor’s jaw in a sickening crack. Trevor stumbles backward, landing hard on his ass with a look of stunned disbelief.
