It’s peaceful out here, just the two of us . . . and the various sea life I prefer not to imagine. A couple of miles away, off the port side of the Icarus, Islamorada is a long strip of lush green. Behind us in the distance are clumps of smaller green islands that bristle out of the water.
Although we woke to a handful of neighboring boats moored in the large bay with us, all but a couple had moved on soon after sunrise. Nick and I took our time having breakfast on deck, followed by a lazy few hours of lovemaking in the main cabin. When we crawled out for a breather and refreshments afterward, I quickly found myself being talked into some morning skinny-dipping off the side of the boat.
I loop my arms around his shoulders, reveling in the simple intimacy of the moment as we float almost weightlessly in the warm, crystal blue salt water of the bay.
“This is absolute paradise,” I murmur, tipping my head back to look up at the pristine blue sky and a pair of white gulls riding the breeze overhead. “How do you ever find the will to return to New York after spending time out here?”
“My life is in New York. Not here. Hasn’t been for a long time.”
I lower my head and meet his gaze. “How long?”
He shrugs, nonchalant. “I moved away for good when I was twenty.”
“And made your first two million in real estate investments by the time you were twenty-two?” I can’t help but gape as I put together the pieces of what he’s told me. “That’s amazing. I realize you’re brilliant, but you must’ve been a business tycoon prodigy too.”
He smiles dismissively. “I got lucky, that’s all. When I came to New York, the Iraq War was just beginning. I had some money saved up, and I figured the one thing every war needs is equipment, supplies. So I invested in a few defense contractor companies.”
“A smart move.”
“And lucrative as it turned out. After about a year, I’d more than doubled my money. Around that same time, real estate in Florida was starting to go crazy. So, I bought up a few properties, flipped them, then reinvested in bigger and bigger developments and put some money into the market as well. I knew it couldn’t last, and just before the housing market bubble started to burst, I got out. I dumped everything, sold it all at the peak. By the end of 2008, I was worth half a billion. Since then, I diversified. Stocks, corporate finance. Anything that catches my eye and looks to be a solid investment. Anything I can either turn into something bigger or disassemble and sell off at a profit.”
I reach out to trace a dampened wave of black hair that’s sticking to his brow. “And now, here you are,” I say, utterly impressed by all that he’s accomplished.
“Yes. Here I am.”
His gaze doesn’t leave mine, and in the heat of his penetrating blue eyes, I try to understand how it is that we’ve ended up together like this. How is it that of all the women he could choose to spend his time with, he is with me?
“Why me, Nick?”
“What do you mean?”
He studies me so intently, I’m sure I must be overstepping. I shake my head, uncertain how to begin now that I’ve broached the subject. “I’m not asking you to tell me how many other women have been here with you like this—”
“You can ask,” he says, though his voice is clipped. “The answer is none.”
“None.” I repeat the word dully. I hadn’t expected him to answer, let alone say this.
He shakes his head. “Not on board my boat. Not to my place in Miami. Not here, like this. No one.”
This revelation is more than unexpected. It’s bewildering, and much too gratifying, to think I am the first. The only. But still . . . “Then why now? Why me?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. I hadn’t planned for this.” There is an edge to his gaze as he looks at me, a hardness that makes me worry that I’ve ruined our moment. With his silence, the only sound around us is the soft lapping of the water against the boat, and the high-pitched cry of a sea bird. Then Nick shakes his head and utters a curse under his breath. “I’ve done a lot with you that I haven’t with anyone else. You’ve obsessed me, Ms. Ross. Now that I’ve opened the door, I don’t think it’s going to be easy to close it.”
“Is that what you want?” I swallow hard. “To close the door on me?”
“No. That’s not what I want. I want to throw them all open. I want to be the one to lead you through them.”
“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “You can have anyone, Nick. That night at the gallery, you could’ve gone home with any woman there. Yet you chose me.”