Page 6 of Below Deck Billionaire
Kelly departed out the same door they’d arrived, and Tiffany took a moment to glance around the space dominated by polished wood and dark leather. Her attention was drawn to a bank of screens that sat at right angles to what she presumed was the instrument panel, which was tucked just below the expansive windows that followed the curve of the bridge and afforded the captain a 180-degree view of wherever he was heading.
Hanging off the panel dead centre was an old-fashioned wheel. It wasn’t pirate-ship huge but it fit the nautical ambience, its rounded wooden contours gleaming with polish.
As she lifted her eyes, Tiffany’s gaze was drawn to the view through the spotlessly clean glass and the beckoning blue beyond, and her breath caught. It didn’t matter how many times she saw the water in this part of the world, it always entranced her, even as she struggled to define the exact shade of blue.
The door on the other side of the wheelhouse opened abruptly, interrupting her musings. A strange prickle brushed her nape as Tiffany turned to find the owner striding in her direction. And that was when her stomach went into freefall.
Oh God. It was him. Theo Callisthenes – in the flesh. Wearing a hell of a lot more clothes than the last time she’d seen him.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…
Tiffany saw the exact moment realisation dawned for him, his powerful stride breaking as he came to a complete stop. Two brows pulled down and froze into a dark slash above those piercingly blue eyes she hadn’t been able to forget.
‘Tiffany?’
Momentarily speechless, all she could do was stare. At the toss of his dark hair, the harsh cut of his cheekbones, the stubble darkening his square jawline, the jut of his chin. The fullness of a mouth that he’d known exactly how to wield for maximum effect. Not to mention those broad shoulders she’d clung to as he’d pounded into her, and those quads so perfectly delineated they could have been chiselled from marble.
Quads that had supported and cushioned her as he’d pinned her against the back of a hotel door and driven her to the most exquisite orgasm of her life.
If Tiffany had been superstitious she’d have wondered why the universe was conspiring to thrust them togetheragain,but she was far too pragmatic for that. As ever, she preferred to get on with it.
‘Theo.’ She’d been going for nonchalant but missed the mark by a mile, her voice disappointingly high. ‘Surprise.’
3
For a couple of charged beats, the heated slumberous glow in his eyes told Tiffany he was picturing the same images as she, from that night neither of them had slept until the sun had stretched golden fingers over the horizon. And for a crazy second, Tiffany thought he was going to break through his inertia, take a step forward, slide his hands on her hips and hitch her close.
But then his brows pulled down again. ‘Oxi.’ He shook his head. ‘No.’ Then, ‘Nomezo.’ Which she assumed meant double-no as he gave another shake of his head, tousling hair she could still feel silky smooth against her breasts and belly as he had kissed down her body. ‘Apokliete.’
Theo had whispered Greek to her in the throes of passion that had curled her toes. Low and gravelly, straight into her ear. Tiffany hadn’t known what he was saying – she hadn’t needed to; his tone had made it obvious they were hot and dirty, dredged from the deep cauldron of lust in which they’d been immersed.
She didn’t need a translation for these words either. He didn’t want her on the boat.
Tiffany couldn’t decide if she was insulted or angry. But she was definitely blindsided. This was not the way she’d thought today would go down. Still, if he thought she was going to be a pushover, then he didn’t know her at all.
It had been a month since a regular pay cheque and she needed the job. Sure, she could probably get another soon-ish but it was peak cruising-the-Isles-in-a-superyacht season and crews had already been set, which made it more difficult.
Money might grow on trees in his world, but it didn’t in hers.
Also, she’d never been dismissed from a job before she’d even started, and that rankled. Coming from him it felt like a very specific rejection that had nothing to do with her abilities or her work ethic, and that really stuck in her craw. Tiffany drew herself up to her full five feet nine inches and injected steel into her spine.
‘Yes.’ No way was she going to be pushed out of a job because the guy in charge couldn’t compartmentalise his life.
She crossed her arms to emphasise she meant business, but that just drew his gaze to her chest where the movement had plumped up a cleavage already generously displayed in her V-necked T-shirt. Her nipples ached beneath his lingering assessment as if remembering how perfectly he’d worshipped them.
Stupid nipples.
But then his mouth flattened into a grim line, and he finally found his feet. Giving her a wide berth, he crossed to the panel of instruments and Tiffany turned to see him consulting the screens and fiddling with a mouse.
‘I’ll call the agency and get you placed somewhere else and cover your expenses to get there,’ he tossed over his shoulder.
Tiffany stared at his broad shoulders. So, she was… dismissed? Without even the courtesy of looking her in the eye? Yeah. Nah. As they said back home.
‘No.’
His shoulders straightened, his head came up and Tiffany’s pulse spiked as he slowly turned. His face was a formidable mask of prime alpha male, his eyes blazing blue heat, his clenched jaw brick hard. Not the face of the man who had smiled and flirted and charmed. This was the face of a man who was clearly not used to hearing no parroted back at him.
She supposed she was meant to feel intimidated. But Tiffany had grown up around men just like Theo. Okay, sure, they didn’t wear suits or run companies, but they could out-alpha most men. They could rope a cow, ride a pissed-off bucking bull, fell a tree, string a fence, find water in a desert, make a roaring fire and build a shelter. All in one day. Men who’d be handy to have around in the apocalypse and didn’t suffer fools gladly.
