At Any Price(52)

I was not convinced, wholly, of Adam’s cluelessness. He was far too perceptive a person not to have noticed Lindsay’s flirtatious behavior. And beyond that I was a little shaken by how strongly I felt about it. Why did I even care who Adam had slept with in his past?

He knew my sexual history—well, most of it, anyway. Shouldn’t I have a right to know his?

A grin flickered on his lush mouth. “So why all the questions? You’re not jealous, are you?”

I widened my eyes, “Oh, no. No, no. God no.” I blathered, flustered. Now who was overdoing it? “What’s there to be jealous of? You and I have a business deal, nothing more.”

But when I talked, my voice was a little too shaky and his handsome face was completely devoid of any emotion. He turned and moved to an inner doorway. “There’s the bathroom if you want to change into your swimsuit. I’m going for a swim once we stop.”

“Out—in the middle of the ocean?”

He shot me a puzzled stare, as if I’d just spoken Mandarin. “Yeah.”

“But aren’t you going to freeze your ass off? That water is cold.”

He shrugged. “We have a Jacuzzi on board. We get too cold, we get out and hop in the hot water.”

I bit my lip. “Maybe I’ll just watch from the edge.”

He picked up my bag from where it sat on the table and tossed it to me. “Get in your suit.”

I grabbed it and went into the bathroom and shimmied into my trusty one-piece. It wasn’t the fancy bikini that I’d posed in for the auction, but it was still a nice suit. And it was his favorite color, too. Blue.

When I went to open the door, I heard him moving around out in the bedroom and realized he must be changing out there. Not wanting another awkward repeat of that first afternoon in Amsterdam, I tapped on the door and he told me to come in.

He was shirtless with his trunks—long board shorts—hanging off his hips. I smiled and walked into the room and he ran an appreciative eye down my form, giving a mock wolf whistle. I couldn’t help but devour the sight of his body again. He had a narrow waist and solid shoulders, every muscle clearly defined from firm pecs to rock-hard abs. He wasn’t as tan as I’d expect of an inhabitant of Newport Beach, but of course he spent most of his life under fluorescent lighting in an office in Irvine, so that was understandable. His finely chiseled chest was covered with the slightest dusting of dark hair, with a narrow trail leading down to his navel and beyond.

I looked at the tattoo again. He wasn’t attempting to hide it but he didn’t say anything when I studied it, either.

“Are you ready to go?” he said.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He led us on deck to the ladder that took us down to the waterline. He shot me a boyish grin and then dove in headfirst. I hung my feet off the side and dipped my toes in, the shock of cold shooting up my legs. I squealed when he splashed me.

“Come in. Just jump in fast. Get it over with. It feels great after a minute.”

“I’m not diving. How do you know there are no sharks out here?”

He laughed, watching me as he treaded water. “I don’t. Come on.”

And we swam for the next hour or so and it was wonderful fun. Adam pointed out the distant spouts of humpback whales. I saw a pod of dolphins jumping out of the water in the distance. When it grew too cold to stay in the water, my entire body shivering uncontrollably, Adam shot up the ladder first and, still dripping himself, reached into a cabinet where a stack of towels were warming and extracted one, holding it for me to walk into when I climbed the ladder.

It felt wonderful and I thanked him while he stooped to grab one for himself. “Let’s go warm up in the Jacuzzi.”

On the back of the middle deck, open to the sky, we soaked in the warmth of massaging bubbles while the chef brought us champagne and appetizers. The captain turned the boat around so that we could watch the sunset over the ocean.

We talked and stuffed ourselves on Chef’s amazing appetizers: bacon-wrapped scallops, baked brie, and all kinds of great munchies. So much so that our appetites were ruined for dinner. Graciously, Chef told us she would pack a cold picnic for us to take up to the top deck when we were hungry.

And then we were alone watching the sunset paint the sky in deep reds and oranges reflecting out onto the ocean. “So this is what you do in your copious amounts of spare time?”

He smiled. “I’d like to take the boat out at least once a month. Maybe over to Catalina, down to Mexico or just out on the water.”

“Taking your work with you, of course.”

He kept his gaze on the horizon “Perhaps.”