Page 4 of Undercover Billionaire

She blinked. What the hell? Since when hadarmpitsbeen a turn on? Because she was most definitely turned on by this long, lean hunk of a man. It may have been a while but she knew chemistry when it reached out and tweaked her nipples.

‘No, I came to…’ She held up his wallet. ‘You left this behind.’

He frowned again. ‘Oh right, thanks.’

He reached for it but swayed alarmingly and, before she could check the impulse, Kelsey slid her hand onto his forearm. It was warm and hard, the dark hair springy beneath her palm.

‘Whoa. Are you okay? Are you sick?’ She peered into his face as he shut his eyes and leaned heavily into the door. ‘I could call the ship doctor?’

His eyes blinked open and, between their intense focus and the heat of his skin, Kelsey could barely breathe. A lock of his hair had fallen forward onto his forehead into an honest-to-God curl, and her palm itched to push it back.

‘I’m fine,’ he dismissed. ‘I’m just coming out of a migraine. I’m always a bit lightheaded afterwards.’

‘Oh God, I’m sorry. My mother suffers from them. Is there anything I can do? A cold compress, a drink of water, some tea?’

‘Room service is bringing peppermint tea.’

Kelsey would have sworn Mr Whisky would be a coffee man. That strong, bitter shit that caused a jolt to the heart at the first sip. Tea sounded so… English. But then, so did he.

Mostly.

‘I just need to sit.’

Not trusting his ability to stay upright, Kelsey followed Ari into his cabin, lowering herself down beside him on the bed as the door clicked shut. The cabin plunged into a darkness that was the hallmark of inner cabins on cruise ships.

‘How’s that?’ Kelsey asked into a silence exacerbated by the deep, bottomless black hole pressing in from all directions.

She should take her hand off him, but he felt solid and real as her eyes adjusted to the tomb-like gloom. His aftershave seemed more pronounced too.Sweet.Wrapping her in a cloud of maple syrup and a fuck-ton of pheromones.

He grunted. ‘Better.’

‘Is it okay if I turn on the lamp or do you still need it off?’ Kelsey’s mother needed the dark when she was in the grip of a migraine.

‘On is fine.’

The low rumble of his voice went straight to her nipples and Kelsey was momentarily thankful for the lack of light as she inched her way around the bed, his wallet still in her hand. Her feet found what she assumed were his clothes discarded on the floor. She resolutely ignored them – the less she thought about how little he was wearing, the better!

She continued on until her knee bumped the bedside table. Placing the wallet down, she groped for the lamp switch and flicked it on, immediately adjusting the dimmer switch at the base. A low, yellow glow, like a single candle flame, illuminated the cabin.

Kelsey glanced over her shoulder, noting the sheets had been pulled back before her gaze snagged on the golden play of light across the planes and angles of his back and shoulders. His hair was short at the nape, which only seemed to emphasise the riot of dark waves atop his head.

‘That okay?’ she asked quietly.

He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

A knock and a murmured ‘Room service’ startled Kelsey.

He started to rise but she waved him down. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, hurrying to the door, pleased he didn’t try to pull some bullshit macho act about being okay.

Kelsey hadn’t really thought about who might be on the other side and whether she’d know them but, thankfully, she didn’t. On a ship with a thousand-plus staff and a turnover higher than any ship she’d ever worked on, it wasn’t uncommon.

But Kelsey was still in the red shirt and white knee-length shorts worn by the staff manning the pool deck bar, which could be problematic if the room service attendant was a stickler for rules. Thankfully, he didn’t appear to pay Kelsey any attention and was happy to hand the tray over and depart.

Placing the tray on the nearby desk, beside a closed laptop, Kelsey fussed around making his tea, adding the cocktail umbrella on the spur of the moment. It looked even more ridiculous in a cup of tea, but she remembered how he’d smiled at the one she’d put in his whisky, and maybe a little comic relief wouldn’t go astray right now?

Sitting beside him again, she offered him the cup and saucer. He gave a barely-there smile. ‘Do you walk around with a supply of them?’

‘Tools of the trade.’

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