Page 59 of Below Deck Billionaire
Tiffany laughed. Okay, maybe not so romantic. ‘That sounds fun,’ she teased, glancing at his profile again.
‘About as fun as a root canal,’ he admitted with a chuckle. ‘But speaking of galleys.’ He caught her gaze. ‘Are you hungry?’
For food? After their late lunch? Not really. For this man, standing beside her, the brush of his arm sending tiny spirals of pleasure to her breasts and belly, looking at her like he hadn’t been talking about food at all – she was freaking starving.
Gah. They really should get back to the boat. But… ohhh, that view. ‘A little,’ she murmured as she returned her attention to the horizon. ‘But I’d like to squeeze in a bit more writing?’ She knew that dusk would linger for a while longer before ceding to evening and she wanted to squeeze every second out of the light if she could.
‘Sounds good.’ He nodded briskly, as if he understood she was trying to temper the chemistry between them, and he was determined to do the same. ‘My housekeeper has dropped off freshly baked spanakopita. Why don’t I bring it out in an hour and we eat out here on the terrace?’
Mmm. Spanakopita. Theo had just said the magic words. ‘Yeah. That sounds good.’
‘Okay.’ He took a sip of his wine. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
* * *
An hour later, true to his word, Theo stepped onto the terrace with a loaded tray and Tiffany shut down her document, emailed herself a copy and closed the lid on the laptop. The table was big enough for twelve, but they sat together at the end closest to the house where the kitchen bench that overlooked the terrace and contained the sink extended into the outdoor space. The long window that ran the length of the bench flipped up awning-style to allow things to be easily passed from the kitchen as well as seamlessly connecting the indoors with the out.
He regaled her with stories that made her laugh about the culinary magic of his housekeeper as they devoured her flaky, melt-in-the-mouth spanakopita and the fresh salad bursting with flavours of ripe, red tomatoes, tangy Kalamata olives and creamy burrata. Tiffany couldn’t work out which smelled better – the cheesy layers of pastry, spinach and feta or Theo Callisthenes in all his ouzo and white-linen goodness.
‘Another glass?’ he asked as they finished the bottle of wine he’d opened earlier.
‘No, thanks,’ she murmured, shaking her head.
She wanted to say yes, wanted to enjoy this buzzy feeling with Theo that had little to do with the wine or the views, and pretend this was her life – but it wasn’t. And she should really take off this ring and get back to the boat because the longer she stayed up here with him laughing and trading life stories in this place he loved so much, the easier it was going to be to fall for the guy, and that would be a seriously dumb thing to do.
She knew from Kelsey and Ari that Cinderella stories came true, that they did exist, that super-rich men – Callisthenes men – fell for ordinary/everyday women.
But not this Callisthenes. Not the charming playboy who, this engineered situation aside, wasn’t interested in anything past one night.
She was playing a role here. So was he. For a specific purpose. Which was essentially done. And she wasn’t her mother; she didn’t need money and status for security or validation. She’d already had a life rich with experiences, and now it looked like Mikey would no longer need her financial assistance, she could invest in herself. Find somewhere inexpensive to live for a few months and finish her book without distractions.
Monetary, occupational or human.
‘We should probably get back,’ she said, placing her empty wine glass on the table.
He nodded slowly, his eyes hooded in the night. ‘I’m going to take a swim first. Care to join me?’
Tiffany almost laughed. If she got into the water with him in that luxurious, infinity-edged pool with both of them in next to nothing, she knew without a doubt where that would lead. ‘You know they say you shouldn’t swim within an hour of having a meal.’
He grinned as he stood, his chair legs scraping on the stones still warm beneath their feet. ‘How’d we ever fall for that?’
She did laugh this time; she couldn’t help herself. ‘I don’t know.’
‘C’mon.’ He held out his hand and twinkled his fingers. ‘You know you want to.’
Yeah, she did. God help her, she really did. The water looked cool and inviting and Theo was just too damn tempting for words, but she would not lose her head, or other vital pieces of her anatomy, here tonight.
‘Nope.’ She stood, her chair also scraping as she pushed it back. ‘You swim, I’ll do the dishes.’
A frown knitted his brows together. ‘No way. You’re my guest, leave them.’
‘It’s not much,’ she insisted. ‘And it’s the least I can do for the gift of this day.’ She picked up the plates. ‘Go,’ she said, tipping her chin in the direction of the pool. ‘It won’t take me long and I’ll be straight out again.’
Not giving him a chance to argue, she turned away, taking the three steps to the granite bench top and pushing the dishes through to sit beside the sink. When she turned back for more, Theo was shucking out of his clothes by the pool edge.
All of his clothes.
He was shirtless, and his bare ass was exposed as he pushed his underwear down his legs and kicked it aside, and Tiffany’s throat constricted at his breathtakingly masculine silhouette. There was no moon out as of yet and with few houses nearby lit up, he was cloaked in shadow. But her eyes were already adjusted to the low light, and she could make out every line of his body.
