“You aren’t the only one who needs to stay in shape.”
He grabbed his bottle of water and took a drink, spilling a bit down his neck and chest.
I could watch him all day.
He wiped himself off with the towel again then came toward me, the little shorts low on his hips, a subtle happy trail down the center of his flat stomach. His arms were as big as my head, all the veins popping out of the tight skin. When he came to my room in the evenings to be serviced, it was usually dark and there was too much going on for me just to stare, but now I could see him clearly, bright in the sunshine. He flipped his towel over the back of his neck as he looked down at me. “Want me to spot you?” His chin was tilted down to look at me, his lips close to mine as if he might kiss me—even though I knew that would never happen.
“I’m more of a cardio kind of girl.”
“Really?” His hand reached for me, his big fingers full of one of my cheeks. “Your ass fooled me.” He gave it a smack before he headed to the door, six-foot-something of pure masculine sexiness.
I watched him until he was out of sight, thinking about that tight ass as soon as it was gone.
“I’ve packed most of your essentials, but here’s another suitcase if there’s anything else you’d like to bring.” Hugo rolled the suitcase into my chambers and set it near the couch.
“Bring where?” I asked, dumbfounded by this announcement.
“Mr. Beaufort hasn’t told you?”
“Does it look like I’m in the know?”
He gave a gloating smile. “I should have assumed.” Without answering, he walked out of my bedroom.
“Dick.” I pulled out my phone and texted Cauldron. Where are we going?
The three dots appeared immediately. On the yacht.
On the yacht? Did that mean there would be other women there? Business or pleasure?
For tax purposes, business. But it’s always pleasure.
You don’t seem like the kind of man who pays taxes.
Trust me, I don’t.
I packed the rest of my things in the suitcase Hugo had provided me then made my way downstairs, in jean shorts and a white blouse that tied up above my belly button. A sun hat sat on my head, and I had my shades hooked in the V in my top.
The guys took my luggage and packed it in the back then I sat in the second row.
Cauldron wasn’t there.
Under the shade of one of the large trees, we sat for nearly thirty minutes, waiting for the man of the hour.
He finally emerged, in blue shorts and a black t-shirt, every inch of his body perfectly chiseled with all those hours in the gym. His eyes were hidden behind his shades, and the seriousness of his expression made him look like he was going to the office rather than on a vacation.
We drove off once he was inside, and he immediately worked on his phone for the entire drive. Sometimes he made me feel like the only person in the room, and other times it seemed like he forgot I was there at all.
When we pulled up to the harbor, I asked the question that was on my mind. “Will your girls be joining us?”
He finished typing up his message before he looked at me, sunglasses still on the bridge of his nose.
I waited for an answer.
There wasn’t one.
The doors opened, and we were escorted up the ramp to the enormous yacht that was several floors, far too big for a single bachelor. It was much bigger than the average dream home and required a crew of twelve to undertake a voyage.
It was the first time I’d stepped on to his ship as a guest instead of a stowaway. The luggage was stored in our bedrooms, and the ship was prepared to depart. I half expected others to join us, pretty girls in string bikinis who were getting paid just to have a good time, but no one ever showed up.
It was just the two of us.
I took a seat in the seating area at the front of the boat, and the second I sat down, waiters brought everything I could ever want, from a cheese board with delicate French cheeses to chocolate strawberries and cured prosciutto. There was Cristal champagne and cucumber water in a pitcher. All I had to do was sit there and watch them serve me like I was the one that ordered the feast.
The yacht departed from the dock, and Cauldron emerged thirty minutes later in his black swim trunks, his tanned skin already glowing under the sunshine. He took a seat beside me and skipped the champagne and went straight to the hard stuff.
“It’s noon.”
He added a few ice cubes and ignored what I said. He leaned back, his arm over the back of the couch, his eyes on the bright-blue ocean ahead. Other yachts were in the water, most of them much smaller than his. He ran his fingers through his hair and took another drink.