"Only me."
"And you’ve never brought anyone else to this island?"
"Told you I haven’t." He tilts his head. "This is my personal space, where I go when I need a place to retreat and think."
"And you practice your rope tricks while you are…contemplating, the meaning of life and the universe?" I walk toward the wall, drag my fingers across the edge of a rope—which is strangely soft to the touch. "What is this made of?"
"Hemp." His voice is so close that I stiffen. How had I not heard him approach? "It holds knots well and is pliant against the skin."
"Oh." My stomach clenches. He hadn’t said a word of anything that was faintly erotic and yet my mind had interpreted it as such.
"And this one." He reaches toward another folded pile, and strokes his fingers over it. "This one is stronger. I use it for the uplines."
"Uplines?"
"The ropes that I run through the harness on the person I am tying and then use it to suspend her from the hard point." He jerks his chin toward the ceiling.
"Her?" I turn to him. "Do you have someone you, uh—work with when you practice?"
"A few." He turns to me. "Why?" He scans my features. "You jealous?"
Yes.
Yes.
"Of course, not." I rub my hands down my forearms. "So, if you don’t bring anyone here, how do you practice?"
"I have a space in my apartment in London that I use specifically for this.”
"So why do you have this set-up here?" I jerk my chin toward the ropes.
"Why do you think?"
I scowl, "Because..."
He tilts his head.
"Because, uh, you believe in being prepared?"
His lips curl.
"Of course, you do." I draw myself up to my full height. "Fascinating as this conversation has been, I guess I’d better return to the chalet." I walk toward the door and open it, only for a gust of wind to blow me back. Rain whips over me and my fingers slip on the door handle, which is wrenched out of my grasp. The door slams shut. I stumble back, certain to fall, except warm hands grip my shoulders and righten me.
"You okay?"
I nod, a little too shaken for my own liking. I am not someone who leans on others. I’ve never allowed myself to slow down, not even after I decided to go it alone to have a child. The one constant in my life has been my career, the company I’ve worked so hard at building. Somewhere along the way, my identity had gotten fused with that of my work.
But just a day with this guy, and it’s as if my feminine side has awakened in full force. Something about his strength makes me want to rely on him. He makes me secure in a way no one else ever has, and isn’t that a laugh? This grumpy billionaire, with a penchant for tying up his women, is the one man I can’t stop thinking of.
"I’m fine." I twist my shoulders and he releases me. "Guess the storm finally hit." I walk toward the window and stare outside. Rain whips across the pane and I can barely see through to the sea that I know is not far away.
"Is the yacht safe?"
"It’s shielded from the worst of the winds by the hills that surround us and I went down to check on it earlier."
"Right." I shuffle my feet. Heat sears my back and I know he’s come up to stand behind me now. "Sure is coming down outside." My voice shakes and I fold my fingers together in front of me.Get it together, what’s wrong with you?He’s just a man. So what, if he has a kinky streak a mile wide and I am standing in what is clearly his dungeon of pain… Or pleasure... Or both. "Maybe… Maybe, we should try and make a run for it to the main house?"
"Why? Do I make you nervous?" His voice rumbles from somewhere above me and I shiver.