“Pretty much. I’m yet hopeful she’ll see reason and decide to leave the country. The person who accepted the assignment is on the East Coast. He’ll be traveling to Oregon tomorrow. She still has time to change her mind—though she doesn’t know it.”
“What about the men?”
“They’re being watched as well. Word on the criminal grapevine travels faster than the AP. As soon as they got wind of it, they were on the next available flight out of the country—both are smart enough to act first and ask questions later. The problem for them is getting back in: it won’t be all that easy. I’m sure they’ll accomplish it eventually. The other thing, of course, is that they too can pay someone to get at me; accordingly, my staff hired personnel to bug their living quarters and keep an eye on them. They’re too clever to use anything but prepaid cell phones.”
He searches her eyes. “I cannot overstate how sorry I am that you got caught up in this stupidity and had a gun to your chest, Ella. You haven’t mentioned that at all. Do you want to talk about it?”
As she begins to contemplate how to frame her answer, unexpectedly—shockingly even— she starts to sob, almost hysterically. The tears are raining down and she’s weeping uncontrollably, which inevitably brings on the sup-ups. At first Ian just stares at her in shocked surprise, but upon realizing she’s experiencing a delayed reaction, he gathers her in his arms and lets her cry it out. When her tears are spent, she becomes very quiet and stays in his arms, her face on his comforting broad chest. The gently rocking sailboat, the definition of poetry in motion, becomes a peaceful oasis for both of them, washing away the stress of the past few days.
They remain serene for the better part of an hour. Ella is the first to move. Reaching her arms around his neck, she hugs him tightly and trails feathery kisses along the side of his head and face. “It’s not fair that you have to suffer such vicious hatred when you’re an incredibly good and generous man. I’ll fully support whatever you choose to do, Ian, and I’ll do my best to make things easier for you, anything you need or want.” She pulls back to look him in the eye.
Arching his eyebrows, he asks her a question that he’s been meaning to broach for a while. “A bodyguard?”
She smiles and nods. “Yes, that’s fine. Just make sure he’s really hot and he dresses well.”
Now he grins. “No fucking way. He’ll be balding and in polyester.”
Giggling, she nips his neck and he drops down to the deck, pulling her on top of his chest. “I love you, my lovely Ariel. I feel like you took the weight of the world off my shoulders tonight.”
Caressing his face that she adores, every plane and angle so familiar now, she understands her love for him is a gift she’ll never relinquish no matter what comes their way. “As it happens, I love you, too. Isn’t that swell?”
He cradles her face in his large yet elegant hands. “Inordinately swell,” he murmurs just before he kisses her.
They make love under the twilight sky. While she’s lying on top of him, he unzips the back of her dress, pulling the tab down to the small of her back. Swinging her up, he gets behind her, on his knees, and slips the cotton dress over her shoulders and down her elegant arms. Underneath the shift she wears a skimpy bra and panty set, in white lace. Ian turns her around and lifting her, begins to kiss and suck her breasts through the fabric. She moans and he smiles, knowing that she’s complaining that the fabric is preventing a complete connection. He sucks harder, teasing her until she tries to pull the bra down herself. He captures her wrists and holds them behind her back, taking his time to drive her a little crazy.
Slowly, he pushes her on her back and repeats the process with her panties, kissing and gently biting through the lace. Her hips begin to buck somewhat violently, alerting him to her shrinking patience. Ian doesn’t let it rush him. He wants to drive her to the very brink of orgasm before he gives in.
Now his lips move back up, tracing her hipbones, navel, breasts again, and up to her neck. He pushes her chin up and wraps both hands around her throat, ever so slightly tightening them as he kisses and licks her lips until she gives him what he wants.
He could kiss Ella all night: her mouth is warm and delicious, and he hardens past endurance when her tongue begins to tango with his. Pushing himself up to a kneeling position, he removes his shirt and unfastens his belt and jeans, shoving them down low enough to serve their purpose. Ella was on birth control now and he’d been screened at his last check-up. It was sublimely wonderful to forego the condoms and feel her warmth directly on his skin.