Powerful and Proud: Beneath the Veil of Paradise / In the Heat of the Spotlight / His Brand of Passion

‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep you informed as we go along.’

Too late Millie realised they were moving. They’d gone about twenty feet from the shore and Chase was doing something with the sails or rigging or whatever was on this wretched boat. She didn’t know the first thing about sailing.

‘What—what are you doing?’ she demanded.

‘Sailing.’

‘But I don’t—’

‘I told you I wanted to see you on my boat,’ Chase said with an easy smile. ‘With your hair blowing away from your face.’

‘But—’

‘My terms, Millie.’ His smile widened. Millie suppressed a short and violent curse. Just what had she got herself into? ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘You could even enjoy yourself.’

‘That was kind of the point,’ she muttered, and he laughed.

‘Glad to hear it.’

She watched Chase let out the sail, the white cloth snapping in the brisk breeze. They were quite far out from the shore now, far enough for Millie to feel a sudden pulse of alarm. She was alone on a boat in the middle—well, sort of the middle—of the Caribbean with a man. With Chase.

She didn’t feel frightened, or even nervous. She felt...alert. Aware. Alive.

‘OK,’ she said, taking a step towards him. ‘So where are we going?’

‘Do we need a destination?’

‘I’m kind of goal-oriented.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’

Her hair was blowing in the breeze, but not away from her face. In it. Strands stuck to her lips and with an impatient sigh she brushed it away. Chase grinned in approval.

‘There.’

‘What?’ she asked irritably. ‘Is this some kind of weird fetish you have? Women and hair?’

‘I just like seeing you look a bit more relaxed. More natural.’ He paused, as if weighing his words. ‘Soft.’

‘Don’t.’ The single word came out sharp, a cut. ‘Don’t,’ she said again, and this time it was a warning.

‘What?’

‘Don’t—don’t try to change me. This isn’t about that.’ She couldn’t stand it if he thought he was on some wretched mercy mission, making her relax and enjoy life. He had no idea. No clue whatsoever.

‘What is it about?’ Chase asked calmly. ‘Sex?’

‘Yes. I thought I made that clear.’

‘You did.’ Just as calmly he strode towards the sail and started doing something with it. Millie couldn’t tell what. ‘And I made it clear this would be on my terms. Watch out.’

‘What—?’

She saw something heavy and wooden swing straight towards her face and then Chase’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her out of the way. She collided with his chest, her back coming against that bare, hard muscle. Her heart thudded and his hands felt hot on her shoulders, his thumbs touching the bare skin near her collarbone.

‘What was that?’ she asked shakily.

‘The boom. I had to tack.’

‘Tack?’

‘Change direction. I should have warned you, but all this sex talk was distracting me.’

She had no answer to that. All she could think about was how warm and heavy his hands felt on her shoulders, how he’d only have to move his thumbs an inch or two to brush the tops of her breasts. How she wanted him to.

‘We’re good now,’ he said, dropping his hands. ‘We should have a pretty nice run. Let’s sit down.’

Numbly Millie followed him to a cushioned bench in the back of the boat. Chase reached into a cooler and took out a bottle of sparkling water, offering it to her before he took one himself.

‘Cheers. Sorry I don’t have champagne to toast this momentous occasion.’

‘So why don’t you drink, exactly?’

‘More doctor’s orders. Reduce stress.’ He spoke with that deliberate lightness again. He wasn’t telling her the truth, or at least not the whole truth.

Millie swallowed and took a sip of water. Her thoughts were racing as fast as the boat that skimmed lightly over the aquamarine sea onto an unknown horizon. What was going to happen here?

‘So. Tell me more about these terms of yours.’

‘The first one is I decide when we do the deed. And where. And how.’

She swallowed. ‘That’s asking for a lot of control.’

‘I know. And I’m not asking. I’m telling.’

The bottle felt slippery in her hands. ‘I’m not really comfortable with that.’

‘OK.’ He shrugged, everything so easy.

‘What do you mean, OK?’

‘The deal’s off, then. No sex.’

She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

Another shrug. ‘You want to sleep with me, you agree to my terms.’

‘You make it sound so—cold.’