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He’d thought she would open up more, but it turned out that his wife was reticent as he. She talked about books, movies, food and places she’d travelled to; she had wild, gorgeous sex with him, but she offered little detail on anything too personal.
And now he didn’t just need to know more—he wanted to.
‘What do you do for fun?’ He wrapped his arm around her ankles and lifted her legs so he could steal in beside her on the sofa. ‘Or what did you do before I introduced you to the delights of rampant lust?’
‘Very funny.’
‘Well? What?’ Chuckling, he massaged her sleek calves. ‘What did you do when you were on leave? Don’t tell me you just went for runs all the time?’
Beneath his hands her muscles stiffened. ‘I like running.’
Clearly. She’d left him in bed at some awful hour this morning and gone for her laps around the island. Her discipline and determination irritated him. And turned him on.
‘What else do you like?’
‘Working. I like my job.’
‘Okay, let’s do this another way.’ He stopped touching her—it was the only way he could keep thinking. ‘What if for the next twenty-four hours we could go anywhere and do anything? Tell me—where do we go and what do we do?’
She just looked at him.
‘Broadway, New York...?’ he suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows. ‘A shopping spree in Paris and all the rides at Disneyland...? Give me a destination and I can make it happen.’
‘You’re talking hypothetically?’
‘No. If you want to go to LA we can go to LA. The jet is on standby.’
Her eyebrows arched. ‘Just like that?’
‘Yes.’ He shrugged, a little embarrassed by her amazement. ‘So, what do you want to do?’
She glanced out of the window and down the length of the small coast. ‘I like the privacy here.’
He was pleased that she loved the island. ‘So do I.’ He studied her, wishing like hell that he could see into her mind. ‘How about we do something I think is fun?’
She turned back and sent him an arch, ultra-sarcastic look. ‘Haven’t we been doing that day and night?’
Yes, and it still wasn’t enough. But the public’s appetite for information on her was going to be voracious. He had to prepare them both.
‘You think that’s the only kind of fun I know how to have?’
Her chin lifted at the challenge in his voice and her eyes gleamed. ‘Okay, then—show me Prince Eduardo–style fun.’
‘As my Princess wishes...’ He inclined his head, mocking her formal address.
‘I’m not a princess,’ she muttered.
‘To me you are.’ He leaned forward and kissed her, delighting in the shiver that shook her.
‘You’re a silver-tongued pirate,’ she breathed, but she kissed him back.
He broke away before his plans went awry. ‘There was me, thinking you liked what I do with my tongue.’
‘Still so arrogant.’ Her eyes gleamed like stunning, sleepy sapphires.
‘And you like it.’ But he wasn’t letting her derail him with her wiles. Not this time.
Half an hour later he led her down a small boat ramp and handed her a life jacket from the pile of gear his aides had left for them.
Stella had already spotted the yacht.
‘What kind of boat is that?’ She looked at the small, sleek beauty, roped to the moorings.
‘She’s a Tempest. She’s vintage. Even starred in a few regattas a while back. Her name is Miranda.’ He laughed at his own silly pride.
‘Of course it is.’ Stella leaned out and peered onto the deck. ‘But we’re not going to get shipwrecked, right?’
‘Not unless you steer us onto the rocks.’ He fastened his jacket, amused that she’d got the Shakespeare reference.
‘You usually sail it alone?’
‘Yes, but it’s a two-crew vessel. You up for it?’ He didn’t know why he’d bothered asking—she’d already stepped on board. ‘You’ve sailed before?’
She shook her head. ‘Kayaked, rowed, but never sailed.’
‘Then let’s do it.’
She was a natural athlete and a quick learner, and it wasn’t long before she was anticipating his instructions and they were working as a team. Her physicality matched his, and he pushed her more than he’d planned to. The yacht skimmed over the water. Time flew, as it always did for him when he was sailing.
