Reckless Abandon(13)

He is just staring—hot-molten-lava-of-lust staring—and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His right arm is bent at the elbow and he is massaging his wrist with his left hand.

“Devon said he knew someone at the consulate and could help with the passports.” I hold the paper out to him, again, and try not to make direct eye contact for fear I’ll go into cardiac arrest. “These are our passport numbers. If you could just give them to him I’ll go back downstairs and wait in the room.”

Golden Eyes takes a few steps closer. His hand brushes mine when he takes the paper; I swear I actually gasp when his skin touches mine.

Why am I acting like this? I must have really hit my head hard when I fell into the water earlier.

He takes the paper but doesn’t open it.

He’s just staring.

And I can’t help but stare right back.

Mi sono persa.

I am lost.

Someone walking into the room interrupts the moment. I look over to see Devon enter wearing the clean polo shirt he put on earlier but has changed into a pair of black pants. “Asher, excuse me, I—”

“Ah, Mr. Smith. I’ve been looking for you.” Golden Eyes turns to face Devon.

Devon halts on his way in and looks at the scene in front of him. He must be wondering why I am standing in this room, where apparently I’m not supposed to be, in nothing but a robe, with one of his crew.

Golden Eyes turns to face me, and offers a hand, “I’m Asher,” he says, with a tone of uncertainty. “I work for Mr. Smith.”

It’s an odd time for an introduction, but I’ll take it. I hold out my hand and shake his, feeling the warmth of his smooth, yet manly hand. “Emma.”

Devon looks back and forth between the two of us. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve missed something.”

“Not at all, sir. I was just making the rounds and found this beautiful woman in your music room,” Asher says, leaning into Devon. “Your very private music room where no one is allowed.”

I open my mouth, feeling awful for intruding. “I am sorry about that. I was just looking for you and I got caught up. After everything you did for us today, I can’t believe I was so rude.” My voice is set to a pleading.

Devon waits a long moment before answering. Turning his attention to Asher he says, “May I have a word with you?”

“Yes, sir,” Asher says with a cocky smile. It’s odd for the level of tension that is currently festering. The two men leave me standing in the music room, still behind the piano trying to figure out what to do. I pretty much have only two options. Stay or go.

I feel like an idiot. I have to get out of here. The look on Asher’s face was of dissonance and I do not want to face him again. Once he tells Devon, or Mr. Smith or whatever it is I’m supposed to call him, about how I was sneaking around his yacht, Leah and I will be asked to leave.

Opting for option two, I open the door and exit into the hallway, relieved not to see Devon or Asher anywhere. I walk down the hallway and head through the main areas, down the stairs and walk my way down the hallway to the room where Leah is.

I’m not in the room ten seconds before Leah is on me.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“You don’t want to know. Are our clothes dry?” I ask, making my way around her and over to the phone.

“Not yet. What’s up with you?” Leah’s hair is dry and styled in the perfect way she always has it. From the smell of her she sampled some of the lotions and potions as lavishly as I did.

Sitting down on the bed, I hold up the phone to dial our hotel to see if they can arrange a transport from the boat. “I think I majorly overstepped my boundaries.”

“What did you do?” she asks in a high-pitched voice.

I shrug my shoulders, embarrassed. My voice is sheepish. “Played his piano.”

“Either that’s a euphemism for something I desperately want to hear about, or . . .” She pauses, “Emma, did you really play a piano?”

I shrug again and slowly put down the phone.

Leah moves over to the bed and takes a seat beside me. “That’s really good to hear.”

The look in her eyes is one of relief. It makes me feel terrible to see it there. Relief should be a good thing but it’s a reminder of the worry I’ve seen on her face before—and on everyone in my family, to be exact.

I wave my hands in front of me, wiping the air to change the tone. “Change of subject. This guy walked in on me. He was beyond pissed I was even in there, let alone playing on what had to be the world’s most beautiful Steinway. I mean, it was ebony and had to have been a model D—” The look on Leah’s face lets me know I’ve totally lost her. “Anyway, apparently it’s Devon’s private room that no one is supposed to be in.”

“No shit,” Leah says.

“Yes. And of course the guy was totally intimidating and I was a total mess.”

“Was he hot?” she asks.

I lean back. “Excuse me?”

“He was hot,” she concludes, nodding her head and pointing her finger at me. “You have your I-just-saw-a-hot-guy face on right now. How hot was he?”

I push her away from me and she falls back on the bed. “Shut it. He was not hot.”

“Liar.” She says with a laugh.