Reckless Abandon(17)

“You can sit up here if you’d like,” Asher calls out over the sound of the engine. The boat isn’t going very fast, since we’re close to the marina, but it’s loud enough he has to speak up and out over it.

An uneasy feeling settles over my stomach. I am not ready to be charming and conversational. With my sister, it’s easy. She knows everything about me. But with a stranger, it’s uncomfortable.

The last time I had a conversation with Asher I was a blubbering mess. Not because of his hotness—that sort of thing doesn’t make me all wobbly like it does some girls. No, I hated being caught in my most vulnerable state.

I stand up and carefully move over to the first mate seat on Asher’s left. I am relieved when I make it the short distance without going overboard.

There is a large space between us as the door to the cabin below is in the middle. I slide up the seat and settle in for the ride. There is less wind in this seat, as the black glass surrounding the area blocks the breeze, yet I know when we really start to move I’m going to be very happy I wore my hair up today.

I look over at Asher. His face is set sternly. There is no glimpse of the smile he gave Leah. I bet he’s pissed he has to spend the afternoon with me. I know he’s only here because his boss told him to take us out.

With his eyes on the water and not on me, I get a good look at him. For someone with a masculine face, his profile makes him look kind. Soft skin over a square jaw that could chisel granite. High, wide cheekbones are offset by a tiny bit of stubble that makes them a touch rugged. Sensual lips are slightly pursed, but there’s no denying their volume.

He bites his lip, not in a sexy way. Actually, I’ve never found lip biting to be sexy. I straighten my back and look ahead at the water.

It’s hard to imagine a man as attractive as Asher would have a free afternoon to take me around on a boat. Then again, this is his job. I can only imagine that someone with his looks, traveling around the world on a yacht, would get a lot of tail. He’s probably dreaming about where else he can be right now.

I open my mouth to tell him to take us back.

“You like speed?” he asks, before I’m able to get a word out.

“Excuse me?”

“Speed. Do you like speed?” He repeats, his eyes still focused on the water ahead.

Speed. Going fast. Driving erratically. Hitting things. Bodies flown. Hands crushed. Lives lost. Dreams expired.

No. The answer is no.

I like control. I like slow. I like safe.

“No!” I yell, grabbing onto the handlebar to my left and swallow hard. “The speed you’re going is just fine.”

By the look of Asher’s jowls sticking out from the side of his face that was, clearly, the wrong answer. He raises his chin and turns the wheel of the boat, keeping the same speed as before.

He continues to drive, following the perimeter of the island past the limestone and sandstone rock that make up the island. The water in front of us is a gorgeous turquoise color. It must be the way the sun is reflecting off the sea because it is so much bluer than it was yesterday.

I inhale the smell of salt permeating the air. If I were to play a concerto it would be the Ernest Bloch, so full of heart and triumph. I hear the crescendo with each crashing wave and spray of white foam as my gaze travels up to three dramatic towering rock formations off the coast. Standing erect, the rocks rise out of the sea as if sculpted by wind and sea. I’ve seen the image on brochures. They must have significance to the island.

“What are those?” I ask, pointing at the rock formation.

Asher shrugs his shoulder and turns his wheel to the right, away from the rocks and toward the island. “I don’t know.”

Figures.

Just then, his cell phone rings and he looks at the screen, briefly, before answering it. It’s a rude thing to do—talk on the phone with company—but he hasn’t struck me as the courteous kind yet.

“Yeah.” He answers. “What do you mean she didn’t get on the plane?” His voice rises over the low roaring engine. “Then charter one.”

Hopefully he doesn’t talk to Devon like that, otherwise his ass should be fired. Without saying good-bye, he ends the call and tosses the phone into a compartment near his seat.

I cross my arms and sit back in my seat. This is the most ridiculous boating experience I’ve ever been on, and I’m counting yesterday’s disaster. Devon must have a serious flaw in his judgment of character.

Asher drives the boat closer to the island but there is no shore or docking area in sight. Instead, there is a large opening in the rocks, peeking out from the bottom and half submerged in the ocean. It is similar to the one we saw yesterday at the Blue Grotto, but much larger.

Lowering the speed, he guides the boat inside the cave and then turns off the engine. The boat is too big to go inside the grotto so we are drifting in an alcove of rock that provides shade from the sun. The water here is a transparent aqua, which means it must be pretty shallow.

There is no one else in sight. No other boats or tourists groups. No sightseers on foot either, though I can’t imagine you’d be able to walk here from the island. It looks like this is one of those rare and special places you can only access from the water.

Asher hits a button on the console and there is a rumbling heard from beneath as he lowers an anchor. He raises the sunglasses off his eyes and onto his head as he swings around his chair and walks over to the seating area in the back of the boat. Bending over, he lifts the cushion of one of the bench seats and reaches down. I’m admiring the way his forearm muscles twitch when he raises a cooler out of the compartment and puts the cushion back in place.