Rowan sailed the boat, handling the lines with ease as the hull chopped through the water toward an empty cove, lush mountains jutting in the distance. They’d followed the coast all morning toward a neighboring island with a private harbor. If only the ache in her heart was as easy to leave behind.
She rolled to her tummy and stretched out along her towel, her well-loved body languid and a bit stiff. Chin on her hands, she gazed out at the rocks jutting from the water along the secluded coastline. She watched the gannets and petrels swoop and dive for fish. Palm trees clustered along the empty shoreline, creating a thick wall of foliage just beyond the white sandy beaches. Peaceful perfection, all familiar and full of childhood memories of vacationing along similar shores with her parents.
A shadow stretched across her, a broad-shouldered shadow. She flipped to her back again, shading her eyes to look up at Rowan. “Shouldn’t you be at the helm?”
“We’ve dropped anchor.” He crouched beside her, too handsome for his own good in swim trunks and an open shirt, ocean breeze pulling at his loose hair. “Come with me and have something to drink?”
She clasped his outstretched hand and stood, walking with him, careful to duck and weave past the boom and riggings. The warm hardwood deck heated her bare feet. “You didn’t have to be so secretive about our destination.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” He jumped down to the deck level, grasping her waist and lowering her to join him. He gestured to where he’d poured them two glasses of mango juice secured in the molded surface between the seat cushions, the pitcher tucked securely in an open cooler at his bare feet.
“That’s your only reason?”
“I wasn’t sure you would agree, and we both needed to get away from the resort.” He passed her a glass, nudging her toward the captain’s chair behind the wheel. “Besides, my gorgeous, uptight scientist, you need to have fun.”
“I have fun.” Sitting, she sipped her drink. The sweet natural sugars sent a jolt of energy through her, his words putting her on the defensive. “My work is fun.”
He cocked an eyebrow, shooting just above his sunglasses.
“Okay, my work is rewarding. And I don’t recall being all that uptight when I was sitting on the bar last night.” She eyed him over the glass.
“Fair enough. I’m taking you out because I want you mellow and softened up so when I try to seduce you later you completely succumb to my charm.” He thudded the heel of his palm to his forehead, clearly doing his best to take her mind off things. “Oh, wait, I already seduced you.”
“Maybe I seduced you.” She tossed aside her sunglasses and pulled off his aviator shades, her bracelets chiming with each movement. She leaned in to kiss him, more than willing to be distracted from the questions piling up in her mind.
Like where they would go from here once the conference was over. Since she didn’t have any suggestions in mind, she sure wasn’t going to ask for his opinion.
“Whose turn is it, then, to take the initiative?” He pulled her drink from her and stepped closer.
“I’ve lost count.” She let her eyes sweep over him seductively, immersing herself in this game they both played, delaying the inevitable.
“Princess, you do pay the nicest compliments.” He stroked her face, along the scarf holding back her hair, tugging it free.
“You say the strangest things.” She traced his mouth, the lips that had brought her such pleasure last night.
“We’re here to play, not psychoanalyze.”
Her own lips twitched with a self-deprecating smile. “Glad to know it, because I stink at reading people.”
“Why do you assume that?” His question mingled with the call of birds in the trees and the plop of fish.
“Call it a geek thing.”
“You make geek sexy.” He nipped her tracing finger, then sucked lightly.
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a…”
“A what?”
“I don’t even have words for you.”
His eyes went serious for the first time this morning. “Glad to know I mystify you as much as you bemuse me.”
“I’ve always thought of myself as a straightforward person. Some call that boring.” She flinched, hating the feeling that word brought, knowing she couldn’t—wouldn’t—change. “For me, there’s comfort in routine.”
Those magnificently blue eyes narrowed and darkened. “Tell me who called you boring and I’ll—”
She clapped a hand over his mouth, bracelets dangling. “It’s okay. But thanks.” She pulled her hand away, a rogue wave bobbing the boat beneath her. “I had trouble making friends in school. I didn’t fit in for so many reasons—everything from my ridiculous IQ to the whole princess thing. I was either much younger than my classmates or they were sucking up because of my family. There was no sisterhood for me. It was tough for people to see the real me behind all that clutter.”
“I wasn’t an instant fit at school, either.” He shifted to stand beside her, looping an arm around her shoulders bared by the sarong.
She leaned against him, looking out over the azure blue waters. The continent of her birth was such a mixture of lush magnificence and stark poverty. “You don’t need to change your history to make me feel better. I’m okay with myself.”
“God’s honest truth here.” He rested his chin on top of her head. “My academy brothers and I were all misfits. The headmaster there did a good job at redirecting us, channeling us, helping us figure out ways to put our lives on the right path again.”
“All of you? That’s quite a track record.”
He went still against her. “Not all of us. Some of us were too far gone to be rehabilitated.” His sigh whispered over her, warmer than the sun. “You may have read in the news about Malcolm Douglas’s business manager—he was a schoolmate of ours. He lost his way, forgot about rules and integrity. He did some shady stuff to try and wrangle publicity for his client.”
“Your friend. Malcolm. Another of your Brotherhood?”
“Malcolm and I aren’t as close as I am to the others. But yes, he’s a friend.” He turned her by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “We’re not perfect, any of us, but the core group of us, we can call on each other for anything, anytime.”
“Like how the casino owner friend provided the start-up money for your clinic…”