Freshwater Kisses (The Kisses 3)

I traced my fingers along his chest, traveling the ravines and rises of his muscles. It was a landscape I wanted to live in forever. He wiggled out from underneath me, standing to dress so he could take care of the boat. He always was the one for the rules.

"I don't think I want you to get dressed," I said, looking pointedly at the boxers in his hand. His mouth curved up in a sly grin as he set them back on the floor.

"It's a good thing the house has a private beach, since I can't seem to find your clothes either." He kicked my swim suit away from the bed.

I laughed, jumping from the bed and dancing past him up to the deck. I had always wanted to sail naked in the moonlight, and we had to get home somehow...

Chapter 13

I took a deep breath and smiled. Robbie's chest rose and fell with a relaxing rhythm, his heartbeat pulsing gently in my ear. I felt like I could stay like this forever, wrapped up in Robbie's arms and perfectly happy. The sun peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a glorious golden warmth.

We had enjoyed the rest of the evening, sailing naked and just acting like kids again. When w

e had arrived at Owen's place, we had been so tired that we barely got the boat tied down before falling into bed together. Now it was morning, and I was ready to get up. Robbie, however, shifted under me, turning his head from the light. I sat up on my elbow and lightly kissed his temple, making him smile in his sleep. With careful movements, I slid out of the soft bed and padded gently across the floor to the open balcony. The salt air caressed my skin; the ocean was calling my name.

I closed the curtains, darkening the room to a soft gray. Robbie snored softly as I tiptoed to the closet and found a long terry-cloth robe. I wrapped myself up in it and headed quietly downstairs to the kitchen to find some coffee.

The white marble kitchen was filled with the morning sun and a pot of coffee was already warm on the counter. I frowned at it for a moment before remembering that one of the perks of dating a billionaire was the house staff. A quick glance in the fridge showed me a pre-made plate of bagels and lox with all the fixings. A girl could get used to having breakfast made for her.

I found some creamer in the fridge and poured a big cup of coffee. Whoever had made up the breakfast platter had also left the day's weather and sailing report on the kitchen counter. Glancing over it, I knew it was going to be a wonderful day for sailing. The hurricane warnings were far away, and our little island was promised blue skies and a fair wind. Outside the sky was already clear and the waves glistened with opportunity.

I stepped out onto the porch, my fingers wrapped around the coffee mug, and leaned up against the railing. My boat bobbed gently at the end of the dock, and I had to fight the urge to go wake Robbie up so we could take it out. The morning was still young, and we would have plenty of time yet for practice.

"Oh, you must be Mrs. Owen Parker," a voice said. I stood up straight, nearly spilling my coffee over my hands. A handsome man with spiky bleach blonde hair smiled up at me. The collar on his shirt was popped with a pair of oversized aviator sunglasses hanging from the collar. I frowned slightly; this house was supposed to be on a private beach.

"Um, no, actually. I'm not Mrs. Parker," I replied, feeling a bit flustered and annoyed. I set my cup on the railing and made sure the robe was securely tied around my waist.

The man's face twisted into what should have passed for a smile, but his eyes lingered just a little too long at my robe. I resisted the urge to tighten it further.

"Well, in that case, forget I said anything about a wife," he said. His blue eyes leered up at me and I fought the urge to just go inside. This was my porch, and I was allowed to be out drinking coffee in a robe and not be ogled.

"Can I help you with something?" I finally asked as he continued to look at me as though I were something he could buy. My peaceful cup of coffee out on the deck was turning into a blood-pressure raising experience.

"I'm Thomas Grant, a friend of Owen's. Is he around by chance?" He glanced around as though Owen might appear at any moment.

"No, I'm afraid he's not." I was trying very hard to remember my manners. If this man really did know Owen, then he was most likely very wealthy and would have connections. I didn't want to endanger any of Owen's business dealings by being rude while staying at his house. "We're friends of his and he's letting us use the house for the week."

The man nodded and unclasped the aviator glasses from his shirt and slid them over his eyes. "That explains the boat, then. Owen is a decent sailor, but he prefers something a little more classy than that."

I nearly flung my coffee at his head. "That is my boat."

Grant tipped his head forward, and he peered over his sunglasses at me. "My apologies." He flashed me a very fake smile full of perfect teeth. "Be careful on her. She looks like more boat than you're ready for."

My hand balled into a fist, and my nails bit into the flesh. I wanted to punch him and that smug look off his face; instead, I put on my sweetest smile. "I'm sorry. I don't think I introduced myself. I'm Samantha Conners, winner of the 2012 Spring Sailing Championship. I don't remember asking your opinion on the boat, but I think I'll be okay. Thanks."

Grant crossed his arms, glancing back over his shoulder at my boat, and then shrugged. "Again, I apologize." There was no sincerity to his voice though. "I suppose from here you just don't look like much of a sailor."

Gee, was it my pajamas that gave you that impression? I wondered if the local authorities would arrest me for murder or give me a public service medal if I murdered him right there. I couldn't be the only person on the island that he managed to insult. My fist clenched just a little more tightly as I forced out a polite smile. "It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Grant, but I'm afraid I am out of coffee. Have a wonderful day."

I turned on my heel, seething inwardly and nearly sloshing my half-full coffee cup all over the porch. I slammed the glass door, glad to see him already half way down the beach. I kept watching him until he was past my boat, hoping that he would trip and eat a mouthful of sand.

"What's with the scowl?" Robbie asked, kissing my cheek gently. I had been so intent on watching the annoying man leave that I didn't hear him come up behind me.

"You ever hear of someone called Thomas Grant?" I picked up my coffee cup and went to refill it. Hopefully, the second cup would end up smoother than the first.

Robbie's face twisted with dislike as he glanced out the window. "Yeah, I've heard of him." He shook his head as though something bitter was in his mouth. "Meeting him would explain the scowl. How'd you manage to run into him in your bathrobe?"

"I stepped outside to enjoy the sun when he decided to insult my boat." I set my coffee cup down hard on the kitchen counter.