Page 4 of Sexy as Sin
He hoped the flatmate wasn’t a man.
Willow stuffed her wetsuit into her bag and handed the towel to her new friend. “Here,” she told him. “You’re soaked yourself.” She had a million questions, suddenly, probably because she wanted anyplace to rest her mind besides that cold black eye. She wanted to know what an American who hated the sea was doing on an Australian beach in business attire. What his name was, and who he was besides confident and muscular. Not to mention dark and handsome. Broad shoulders, big hands, big feet, and plenty of strength under the suit when he’d held her. Long toes, and high arches.Reallygood feet.
Was it a fetish if you noticed a man’s hands and feet? Probably not, because she’d noticed his shoulders, too, and his abs. He might have a bit of silver at his temples, but his body was just bloody fine.
There was that bigger question, too. Whether he was married. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t always mean what it ought to.
She didn’t ask any of it. Too much work, and she was knackered. She wanted a cup of tea.
When she headed up the beach, he took her surfboard from her, which was nice. Her muscles, somehow, felt wobbly. He made a detour for his socks and shoes—black and leather, respectively, and looking as expensive as the rest of him—and she walked the track through the dunes ahead of him anddidn’tstop at the outdoor showers. There was a queue there, as you’d expect when everybody left the beach at the same time, and she wasn’t up for questions and congratulations and arguments. About drumlines and nets, bycatch of dolphins and sea turtles, and the sharks’ right to live unmolested in their own sea. They’d already be talking about all of it, their passion needing an outlet, and she didn’t need to be battered by all those words.
The man was quiet, which she appreciated. He’d talked when he’d needed to, when the overexcited dad had been going on about kids bleeding out. He’d shut that down fast, but other than that, he’d held her tight and hadn’t said much of anything. Also, why did American accents always sound so... well, commanding? In a good way.
Her overprotective cousins, Rafe and Jace, would have told her not to get into a strange man’s car, but she didn’t need that argument, either. She needed to get home, she needed to cook, and for whatever reason, she wanted this man with her while she did it. Like a shark would be looking in her kitchen window otherwise. Hopping on its tail, coming after her like Moby Dick. It was an image that made her smile, even though she’d never readMoby Dick. She’d tried. It was boring. She’d seen the movie, though. She’d also seenJaws.Right now, she wished she’d never seen either.
Never mind. It would pass. She’d get back into the sea again. Just not today.
When they reached the bike racks, she unlocked her own, a sturdy cruiser in sunny yellow, and said, “I wasn’t thinking. I can’t leave my surfboard here, and surely you can’t fit it in your car, or my bike, either. I’ll make it home OK, but you can still come to breakfast. Everybody called me the hero out there, but I’d never have seen the shark if you hadn’t warned me, and neither would anybody else. That little girl could be dead right now. Instead, she’s going home. Surely you deserve breakfast.”
“I wasn’t the one hitting it in the nose,” he said. “Or going out again, knowing it was probably still out there. Was it as big as I think it was?”
“Yeah. Great white. About four meters, I’m guessing. Female, I’d say, unless it’s the fear exaggerating. Females are bigger, but none of them are exactly cuddly. And you were the one who hated the sea and waded out in it to drag us in anyway.”
“Right,” he said. “We’re both extremely brave, although I reserve the right to call you braver.”
“Practically superheroes.” She was getting some of her lightness back, although maybe that was him. He was so solid, you could come to rest against him until you’d caught your breath, then bounce off again when you were ready. That was nice. “I’m Ocean Warrior, and you’re, uh... Ready Man.”
“ReadyMan?”
“I was going to say Steady Man,” she said, “but it sounded a bit dull. All right. Batman. No superpowers, just clever, on the spot, and dressed in black. Also rich, but I can’t quite tell about that one. Could just be the suit. Is Batman better?”
He looked too staid to find that funny, except that she knew that wasn’t all of him, like hedidhave an alternate persona. She could tell by the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Much better,” he said gravely. “And I think you’ll find that my car has amazing powers when it comes to fitting things inside. We’ll give it a try.”
He was driving an SUV. And, yes, it was a big black one with tinted windows. She gave it some side-eye and said, “You’re either in the Secret Service, or you learned two colors as a baby and figured it would be more efficient to stop there. Also, you don’t mind paying twelve dollars an hour to park at the beach. Wait. Maybe youareBatman. Or you’re in the Mafia, except that we don’t have it here. Our organized crime is mostly things like outlaw bikie gangs, and you’re not tattooed enough. You could be the advance team, of course.”
“Getting your personality back, I see,” he said. “Along with your rainbows.” He’d already folded down the car’s black leather rear seats with a few quick motions, and now, he was lifting her bike into the car as if it weighed nothing, then setting the surfboard carefully to one side of it.
“You’re wondering why rainbows and unicorns.” She set her bag down with the rest of her gear, but kept out her towel. Whatever he said, she wasn’t sitting on his beautiful leather seats with salt and sand all over her. “You’re wondering whether I’m seventeen, or just a general idiot.”
He smiled, the first time she’d seen him do it, and it was full-on charm. Gray eyes showing heaps of warmth, a firm mouth, and all that calm certainty. Strength practically radiated out of this man. “I know you’re not seventeen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be putting you into my car if you were.” Which he was, opening the door for her, waiting for her to get settled, then closing it after her. A gentleman. Gordy could take lessons, except that she didn’t care if Gordy took lessons.
“When you get to the main road,” she said, “take a left. The rainbows and so forth started as a joke, or as a pushback, maybe. I got tired of people saying the world isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, when I’d try to bring some light into the situation. Like it’s better to be angry and hostile than to make a joke and look for the best. I don’t want to see the world that way.”
“Your affirmation,” he said. No ridicule in his voice.
“Could be. I thought about fluffy bunnies, too, but there’s only so far you can take it. The glitter could have been over the top, except that it makes me laugh. Take a right at the next crossing. You drive decently for an American on the left side of the road. Or are you Canadian? Do you come here often? And no, I’m not picking you up.”
“First time, on the driving,” he said, waiting for the Byron-heavy traffic to clear and then zipping across the intersection. “Though I’ve been here before. It hasn’t been too bad. Just takes focus.” He glanced at her, then back at the road again. “Like most things.”
“Next left,” she said. “Are you ever not calm?”
He lost the smile and got thoughtful. “Not often, no. People tend to think the loudest voice wins. Not true. Generally, the prepared mind wins, and the mind that reads the room, holds onto its strategy, and keeps ego out of the picture.”
“In business.”
“Oh,” he said, “I’d say anywhere. You have to know your goal, what you’ll compromise on, and what you won’t. You have to know what matters most. When to deal, and when to walk away. You can’t do that if your mind is clouded by emotion and ego. You could say I’ve worked on that for a while, but every habit starts with a day when you decide to do things differently.”
