Maid for a Magnate(22)

Shrugging, Catalina forced herself to meet his angry gaze. "You brought  me here to seduce me. Wasn't that the whole plan for getting me alone?  Well, mission accomplished. The storm has passed and it'll start getting  dark in a couple hours. Why wait to head back?"

"Maybe because I want to spend more time with you," he shouted. "Maybe because I want more here than something cheap and easy."

As the misty rain continued to hit her face, Catalina wanted to let  that sliver of hope into her heart, but she couldn't allow it...not just  yet. "And what do you want, Will? An encore performance? Maybe in your  bed on the yacht so you can have a more pampered experience?"

His lips thinned, the muscle in his jaw tightened. "What made you so harsh, Cat? You weren't like this before."

Before when she'd been naïve, before when she'd actually thought he may  love her and choose her over his career. And before she discovered a  secret that he still knew nothing about.

Beyond all of that, she was angry with herself for allowing her  emotions to get so caught up in this moment. She should've known better.  She'd never been someone to sleep around, but she thought for sure she  could let herself go with Will and then walk away. She'd been wrong and  now because of her roller coaster of emotions, she was taking her anger  out on him.

Shaking her head, Catalina turned. Before she could take a step, she  tripped over a piece of driftwood she hadn't seen earlier. Landing hard  in the sand, she hated how the instant humiliation took over.

Before she could become too mortified, a spearing pain shot through her  ankle. She gasped just as Will crouched down by her side.

"Where are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes raking over her body.

"My ankle," she muttered, sitting up so she could look at her injury.

"Anywhere else?" Will asked.

Catalina shook her head as she tried to wiggle her ankle back and  forth. Bad idea. She was positive it wasn't broken-she'd broken her arm  as a little girl and that pain had been much worse-but she was also sure  she wouldn't be able to apply any pressure on it and walk. The piercing  pain shot up her leg and had her wincing. She hoped she didn't burst  into tears and look even more pathetic.

So much for her storming off in her dramatic fit of anger.

Will laid his shirt on her stomach.

"What-?"

Before she could finish her question, he'd scooped her up in his arms  and set off across the sand. Catalina hated how she instantly melted  against his warm, bare chest. Hated how the image of them in her mind  seemed way more romantic than what it was, with Will's muscles straining  as he carried her in his arms-yeah, they no doubt looked like something  straight out of a movie.

"You can't carry me all the way to the yacht," she argued. "This sand is hard enough to walk in without my added weight."

"Your weight is perfect." He threw her a glance, silently leaving her  no room for argument. "Relax and we'll see what we're dealing with once I  can get you on the bed in the cabin."

Those words sent a shiver of arousal through her that she seriously did  not want. Hadn't she learned from the last set of shivers? Hadn't she  told herself that after they slept together she'd cut ties? She had no  other choice, not if she wanted to maintain any dignity and sanity on  her way out of his life for good.

As they neared the dock, Will was breathing hard, but he didn't say a  word as he trudged forward. Her ankle throbbed, which should have helped  shift her focus, but being wrapped in Will's strong arms pretty much  overrode any other emotion.

Catalina had a sinking feeling that in all her pep talks to herself,  she'd overlooked the silent power Will had over her. She may have wanted  to have this sexcapade with him and then move on, but she'd seriously  underestimated how involved her heart would become.                       
       
           



       

And this hero routine he was pulling was flat-out sexy...as if she needed another reason to pull her toward him.

Will quickly crossed toward the dock, picking up his pace now that he  was on even ground. When he muttered a curse, Catalina lifted her head  to see what the problem was. Quickly she noted the damage to the yacht  and the dock. Apparently the two had not played nice during the freak  storm.

"Oh, Will," she whispered.

He slowed his pace as he carefully tested the weight of the dock. Once  his footing was secure, and it was clear that the planks would hold  them, he cautiously stepped forward.

"I need to set you down for a second to climb on board, but just keep pressure off that ankle and hold onto my shoulders."

She did as he asked and tried not to consider just what this damage  meant for their return trip home. When Will was on deck, he reached out,  proceeded to scoop her up again and lifted her onto the yacht.

"I can get down the steps," she told him, really having no clue if she  could or not. But there was no way they could both fit through that  narrow doorway to get below deck. "Go figure out what happened."

He kept his hold firm. "I'm going to get you settled, assess your ankle and then go see what damage was done to the yacht."

Somehow he managed to get her down the steps and onto the bed without  bumping her sore, now swollen ankle along the way. As he adjusted the  pillows behind her, she slid back to lean against the fluffy backdrop.  Will took a spare pillow and carefully lifted her leg to elevate her  injury.

"It's pretty swollen," he muttered as he stalked toward the galley  kitchen and returned with a baggie full of ice wrapped in a towel. "Keep  this on it and I'll go see if I can find some pain reliever."

"Really, it'll be fine," she lied. The pain was bad, but she wanted him  to check on the damage so they could get back to Alma... She prayed  they could safely get back. "Go see how bad the destruction is. I'm not  going anywhere."

Will's brows drew in. With his hands on his hips, that sexy black ink  scrolling over his bare chest and the taut muscles, he personified sex  appeal.

"Staring at my ankle won't make it any better," she told him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

His unique blue eyes shifted and held her gaze. "I hate that I hurt you," he muttered.

So much could be read from such a simple statement. Was he referring to  four years ago? Did he mean the sexual encounter they'd just had or was  he referencing her fall?

No matter what he was talking about, Catalina didn't want to get into  another discussion that would only take them in circles again. They were  truly getting nowhere...well, they'd ended up naked, but other than  that, they'd gotten nowhere.

"Go on," she insisted. "Don't worry about me."

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but ended up nodding. "I'll be  right back. If you need something, just yell for me. I'll hear you."

Catalina watched as he ascended the steps back up to the deck. Closing  her eyes, she dropped her head against the pillows and pulled in a deep  breath. If the storm had done too much damage to the yacht, she was  stuck. Stuck on a glamorous yacht with an injured ankle with the last  person she should be locked down with.

The groan escaped before she could stop it. Then laughter followed.  Uncontrollable laughter, because could they be anymore clichéd? The maid  and the millionaire, stranded on a desert island. Yeah, they had the  makings for a really ridiculous story or some skewed reality show.

Once upon a time she would've loved to have been stranded with Will. To  know that nothing would interrupt them. They could be who they wanted  to be without pretenses. Just Will and Catalina, two people who l-

No. They didn't love each other. That was absurd to even think. Years  ago she had thought they were in love, but they couldn't have been. If  they'd truly been in love, wouldn't he have fought for everything they'd  discussed and dreamed of?

Maybe he'd been playing her the entire time. A twenty-year-old boy  moving up the ladder of success really didn't have much use for a poor  staff member. She was a virgin and an easy target. Maybe that's all he'd  been after.

But she really didn't think so. She'd grown up around Will and James.  James was the player, not Will. Will had always been more on the  straight and narrow, the rule follower.

And he'd followed those rules right to the point of breaking her heart.  She should have seen it coming, really. After their mother passed away,  Will did every single thing he could to please his father, as if  overcompensating for the loss of a parent.                       
       
           



       

Yet there was that little girl fantasy in her that had held out hope  that Will would see her as more, that he would fall in love with her and  they could live happily ever after.