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

‘Millie, we are going to sleep together, right? See each other naked? Touch each other in all those intimate places? Bring each other screaming to ecstasy?’

She was blushing. Like fire. Way too many details. ‘That doesn’t mean I want you to see me in my underwear in broad daylight,’ she managed.

‘Maybe I’ve decided to make love to you in broad daylight.’ He pointed to the slender strip of sand. ‘Maybe right there on that beach.’

Millie followed the direction of his pointing finger and could already see the two of them there on the beach, bodies naked, sandy and entwined. She could imagine it all too easily, no matter that she still felt shy about taking off her clothes. ‘Even so,’ she muttered. ‘It’s different.’

Chase let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘So you want to swim in your clothes?’

‘No.’ She recrossed her arms, shifted her weight. She didn’t know what she wanted. She’d agreed to this, she’d known it would be uncomfortable, and yet some bizarre and perverse part of herself still wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted the intimacy with him, even if she felt sick with nerves.

But if she really did want it why was she still resisting? Why was she fighting Chase on every little point? They’d already established he wasn’t going to ask her about her past. They wouldn’t see each other after this week.

They were going to have sex.

‘Fine.’ In one abrupt movement she slid her wet top over her head and kicked her way out of her capris. The clothes bobbed and floated on the surface of the sea, and belatedly she realised they were the only clothes she had here. She didn’t relish the prospect of walking down the resort beach in her undies. Lifting her chin, she glared at him. ‘Satisfied?’

‘I wouldn’t say I’m satisfied,’ Chase said slowly, his gaze wandering over her in leisurely perusal. ‘But pleased, yes.’

Millie shivered even though the air was sultry. She felt ridiculous standing there in her bra and panties, both a sensible, boring beige, even though Chase was only wearing a pair of shorts. They were both near-naked and yet...

When had someone last seen her this close to bare? A man? Rob, of course. Rob was the only man who had seen her in her underwear, besides her obstetrician. The thought was both absurd and excruciating.

Standing there under Chase’s scrutiny, she was agonisingly conscious of all her faults. She was too skinny, due to the black-coffee breakfasts and skipped lunches. Her appetite had fallen off a cliff since the accident. And, while supermodels looked good stick-thin, Millie knew she didn’t. Her hip bones were sharp and she’d dwindled down to an A-cup. And then of course there were the stretch marks, just two silver lines below her belly button—would he notice those? Would he ask?

No questions about her past. She’d remind him if necessary, and often.

Chase smiled and reached into the boat, bringing out two dive-masks. Millie eyed them dubiously.

‘Why are we diving, anyway? I thought we were eating lunch.’

‘We have to catch it first.’

Her jaw dropped. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’

He arched an eyebrow. ‘Do I look like a kidder?’

‘Well, since you asked...’

‘Seriously, it’s easy. We’re looking for conch—you know the big, pink shells? The pretty ones?’ She nodded. ‘We’ll find a couple of those, I’ll pry out the meat and we’ll have conch salad. Delicious.’

‘Raw?’

‘Haven’t you ever eaten sushi?’

‘Only in a Michelin-starred restaurant in Soho.’

‘Live a little, Millie.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t want to get food poisoning.’

‘The lime juice in the dressing has enough acid to kill any nasties,’ he assured her. ‘I’ve eaten this loads of times.’

And just like that she could imagine him here, looking so easy and relaxed, with the kind of curvy blonde he usually dated. She’d have a string bikini. Or maybe she’d go bare. Either way Millie felt ridiculous standing there in her underwear, having no idea what to do. And, worse, she felt jealous.

Chase tossed her a mask. ‘Look for the shells. We only need one or two.’

Dubiously she put the mask on. This was so out of her comfort zone, which was precisely why Chase had chosen to do it. When he’d said lunch she’d envisioned a picnic on the boat, gourmet finger-food and linen napkins. As if.

Still, she wouldn’t give Chase the satisfaction of seeing just how uncomfortable she was. Squaring her shoulders, she adjusted her mask and followed Chase into the water. He was already cutting easily through the placid sea and with a deep breath Millie put her face in the water and gazed down into another world.

Rainbow-coloured fish darted in the shoals and amidst the rocks, prettier than any she’d seen in an aquarium. The sea water was incredibly clear, so the whole ocean floor seemed to open up in front of her, stretching on endlessly. Her lungs started to burn and she lifted her head to take a breath.

‘You OK?’ Chase had lifted his head too, and was glancing at her in concern.

‘I’m fine.’ She felt a strange stirring inside that he’d asked, something between gratitude and affection, that he was worried. He might be pushing her, but he wasn’t going to let her fall.

And she wouldn’t let herself either.

Chase kicked forward. ‘Let’s swim a little farther out.’

She followed him out into deeper water, and they swam and dove in silent synchronicity, the whole exercise surprisingly relaxing, until she finally saw a conch, pearly pink and luminescent, nestled against a rock. Taking a deep breath, she dove down and reached for it, her hand curving around its smooth shell as she kicked upwards to the surface.

Chase was waiting for her as she broke through. ‘I got one!’ Her voice rang out like an excited child’s, and she gave him an all-too-sloppy grin.

‘It’s always a thrill. I got one too. That should be enough.’

They headed back to shore and Millie sat on the beach and watched while Chase retrieved a knife, cutting board and a few limes and shallots from the boat.

‘You come prepared.’

‘It’s a quick, easy meal. But delicious.’

The sun dried her off, leaving salt on her skin as she sat with her elbows on her knees and watched him at work. She should have known he wouldn’t let her sit back and do nothing for very long. Giving her a sideway glance, he beckoned her over.

‘You can help.’

‘You want me to slice some limes?’ she asked hopefully, and he grinned.

‘I thought you’d like a challenge. You can clean the conch.’

Bleh. Still, she wasn’t going to argue. She eyed her wet tee-shirt drying on the boat, conscious that she was still only in her bra and pants. At least they were both sturdy and definitely not see-through. Chase caught her glance and shook his head.

‘Your unmentionables are more modest than some of the bikinis I’ve seen, you know.’

‘I’ll bet.’

‘Come on, Scary. You can do this.’ He handed her a knife and instructed her on how to insert, twist and bring out the entire conch. Grimacing, Millie tried, and finally succeeded on her third try.