Summer Escape with the Tycoon
Page 12
She stifled a snort. “I guess you’re okay. For an uptight businessman.”
He laughed. “I know I’m uptight. It comes from being super focused. Believe it or not, you’ve seen me at my most relaxed.”
“Me too. Pretty sad, isn’t it?”
He was going to make a comment about how they’d both needed the trip, but they were interrupted by final instructions and then getting into the water. Molly stepped in beside him and they began to wade out. She stumbled on one of the round stones on the river bottom and reached out to grab his arm. Once she was steady she laughed and rolled her eyes.
“That wasn’t intentional.”
“I know you can’t keep your hands off me.”
She snorted then, and he laughed. Why was he bantering, flirting, if he wasn’t interested in starting anything?
Maybe it was because this was a limited-time thing. When they’d first met they’d both been cranky and annoyed. But now...a vacation fling didn’t seem like a half-bad idea. It would never go anywhere. He was used to weighing risks. This was fairly low-risk from where he was standing. Eight more days, then back to their own lives. No harm, no foul.
“Whatever keeps me from breaking my neck,” she answered, letting go of his arm. “Priorities.”
Self-preservation was a darn good priority. And one he wasn’t exactly following at the moment. It wasn’t just being thrown together because they were the odd ones out. There was something about her tha
t drew him in.
“You ready?” He adjusted a setting on his wrist camera, and she tilted her head with curiosity.
“What’s that?”
“An underwater wrist cam. I’m hoping to get some neat video.”
“Boys and their toys,” she muttered, but grinned up at him. He thought about maybe sharing some clips after the trip, but they probably wouldn’t even speak again once it was over.
He was ready but she still hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ve just never snorkeled before. I’m gearing myself up.”
“If you can swim, you can snorkel. Just put your face in the water. Easy.”
“Easy,” she repeated, as if she didn’t quite believe him. When he looked down, he saw her hands were shaking. But then she lowered her mask, put the snorkel in her mouth and slid into the water, putting her face in. Her personal flotation device kept her buoyant, and before he put his mask on he saw the tempting curve of her bottom break the surface. Lord, that wet suit was going to be the death of him today. He pulled down the mask and followed her into the water.
He put his face in and took a moment for his vision to adjust, and then he was entranced. The river bottom was alive. He turned his head and looked over at Molly, who was pointing ahead of him. When he tilted his head, he saw a school of salmon rushing past, darts of silver flashing in the sun-dappled water. They both stood and broke the surface at the same time.
“That’s incredible!”
“Oh, my God, that’s so cool!”
Then they both started laughing.
“This is really your first time?” he asked.
“I’ve always been too chicken on our family vacations. Instead I’ve done the glass-bottomed boat thing.”
He wondered why a woman like her would choose to be on the outside rather than right in the middle of the action. “Well, we’ve got lots of day left. Let’s go.”
They spent the next thirty minutes in the water, the current carrying them forward as they explored the river. Occasionally they’d pop up and check their surroundings and the group; at one point they got back in the inflatable boats and headed downriver to a pool away from the rushing water. He could sense when Molly gained confidence and comfort; she moved through the water with greater ease and was quick to point out new schools of fish. They didn’t see any of the famed Chinook salmon, but that was okay. Eric had had a blast, and by the smile on Molly’s face when she peeled off her mask and snorkel, she had, too.
Her hair was wet and plastered awkwardly to her head, but her eyes were alight with excitement and her smile was wide and utterly genuine. He wasn’t just entranced by the fish; there was something about her that made his stress and misgivings melt away. When was the last time he’d felt so free? He couldn’t honestly remember.
They made their way back to the boats and he was tempted to climb in and sit beside her, just to remain close. Instead he chose the wiser course and moved to the second boat, making small talk with others. Despite his risk assessment, there was no way in hell he was going to trust his instincts when it came to romance right now. Heck, this wasn’t even romance. It was elemental attraction. He was smart enough to realize it. And smart enough to recognize that he’d fallen into the same trap with Murielle. He’d got carried away and fallen too fast. By the time he’d realized it, it had been too late. There’d been a ring on his finger, and the weight of responsibility had fallen squarely on his shoulders. A man looked after his family, didn’t he?
The boats started up the river and he stared over at Molly, her wet hair blowing back off her face and an ever-present smile on her lips. God. Maybe that was what really bothered him about the divorce. It wasn’t that Murielle had called him a workaholic; he owned that. It was that she’d accused him of loving work more than he loved her, and she’d been wrong. Maybe he’d handled things the wrong way, but she’d made it sound as if there had never been any affection between them.