She watched him walk away across the massive room to the en-suite bathroom. The morning sun gilded him, glancing off his muscular back and the taut curve of his buttocks. He didn’t CHAPTER NINE
Àre you sure about this?’ Belle couldn’t prevent the quiver in her voice as she looked down at Rafiq.
`Positive,’ he responded, his smile a flash of pure white in his bronzed face. `You’re not scared, are you?’
`No,’ she said. But she felt clumsy and uncoordinated, as if she was about to make a fool of herself. And when he grinned up at her like that, with the sun dancing in his eyes, she couldn’t breathe properly, much less control a sailboard that seemed to have a mind of its own.
`Would you like me to get up there with you?’ His voice deepened a fraction, enough to send a skitter of excitement through her. But his expression remained bland. Ì could stand behind you and guide it.’
Belle shook her head vehemently. He had to be kidding. If he got up here she’d have no choice but to submit to his touch as his arms curved round her and his body pressed close. Like yesterday, when he’d introduced her to archery.
She shut her eyes at the memory. It had taken all her resolve not to break from his hold when she’d felt his warm breath caress her cheek. And when his hard body had encompassed her, arms wrapped around hers, she’d felt weak, the weakness of desire, as he’d murmured instructions in her ear and helped her fit the arrow to the bow. She’d been trembling by the time she finally got an arrow into the target and he’d stepped away.
On a sailboard they’d be even closer. Moving as one. The idea sent a rush of blood to flood her face.
`Belle. Look out!’
But it was too late. She felt the swell of the wave and lunged forward to keep her balance, then overcompensated. She fell back into the water, laughing despite herself. Fifth time unlucky. She obviously had no natural talent for sail boarding.
But her smile vanished as strong arms closed about her, holding her head up above the wave.
`You can let me go,’ she whispered, her voice strangely hoarse as she opened her eyes to meet his sea-green gaze so close. His eyes burned with an inner fire. His grin disappeared and there was a closed intensity to his expression that caught her breath. Something heavy pulsed between them, a voiceless communication she’d prefer to ignore, even as her hands settled on his wide shoulders.
Òf course.’ He nodded and released her, reaching out instead for the board. She found her feet on the sandy bottom and drew a deep breath.
Nothing had happened. Except for the roiling surge of anticipation deep in her belly when he looked at her like that. As if he saw nothing else but her.
`Perhaps you’ve had enough? Would you like to go in to shore?’
His face was devoid of all emotion. So he’d felt it too the zap of immediate awareness between them when their bodies collided.
Belle had learned a little about her husband in this past week.
Including the fact that he kept that particularly wooden expression for use when he wanted to conceal his thoughts.
For the sake of her own peace of mind, she told herself firmly that she had no interest in the thoughts he concealed.
`No.’ She shook her head and reached out for the board. Ì‘m not ready to be beaten by it just yet.’
Again that grin that transformed his face to breathtaking. `How did I know you’d say that?’
Despite her caution, Belle felt an answering grin tug at her mouth.
Rafiq had come to know her over the past days too enough to know that she hated being beaten.
Àn educated guess?’ she said, as she reached out for the board and hoisted herself up.
He didn’t answer, just held it steady as she found her footing and reached over to lift the sail from the water. A small wave rolled in, but she kept her balance and slowly hauled the sail up. For a long moment, or two, she was poised, her body a counter weight to the dripping sail. Then, just as she felt she might over balance, the wind caught the sail and the board moved.
`Shift your weight back,’ Rafiq called. But she was already doing it, instinctively finding the right angle to balance the sail. As she did the wind picked up a little and the board shot forward.
She was windsurfing! Gingerly she adjusted her hold. Then the wind was rushing by, and she had to concentrate on standing firm as the board skimmed the waves.
Rafiq was right. It was wonderful, this feeling of power and freedom. Just her and the sea. How had she spent so long living by the ocean and never found time to try sail boarding? Probably the same way she hadn’t been on a date in two years-too busy with work.