“Really? So you just give up? I can’t imagine you made the kinda money you need to make to rent a yacht like this for eight weeks by just surrendering.”
I laughed. “You pretend you’re all sweetness and what-can-I-get-for-you but in fact, you’re actually kinda pushy. A fighter.”
She shrugged, trying to hold back a smile. “I have both sides to me. Most people don’t get to see beyond the sweet.”
For a long second we held each other’s eye, on the edge of acknowledging that she’d confessed I knew her better than most. I liked that I did. I liked her and both her sides.
She looked away first and backed toward the door. I stood and shoved my hands in my pockets.
“I think you might be on to something. I need to figure out how to get this guy comfortable with selling to me, and it’s not going to be about what’s in the legal documents.”
“Sounds like your brain rearranged. I hate to say I told you so but . . .” Her voice was higher, less conversational than before. Sweet Avery was back. “I should get back to it. Can I get you anything else?”
I shook my head, smiling at her, keeping my gaze fixed on her as she slipped out of the office. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was the only woman I’d been physically close to in weeks, but my cock was twitching, and I’d been seconds away from reaching for her. Sweet, funny, sexy and smart—Avery Walker had it all. And as much as I might not want to fuck her quickly, bent over my desk. I definitely wanted something more from her.
Twelve
Avery
“I owe you, Avery Walker,” Hayden said, turning from where he was leaning against the balustrade facing the sea. He grinned as the sliding doors of the main salon closed behind me.
“You do?” I set down his coffee on the side table near his usual lounger. I wasn’t quite sure what he meant but his British accent, softened a little by the sun and that wide grin, felt overfamiliar.
“You were right. He was getting jittery about letting go,” he said, striding toward me.
As he leaned to pick up his coffee, I caught his scent—a combination of ocean breeze and forest floor, clean and masculine.
“That’s so great,” I said, moving away from him, trying to keep my distance, trying not to notice how his face had bronzed in the sun and his hair was smattered with licks of gold. “It was just a suggestion.”
“It was a good one. Really good,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. My heart began to pound. Was he making a pass at me? No, this man was all business. He was clearly just grateful for me talking to him. Yes, that was definitely it.
“What did he say?” I asked.
He blinked, his long eyelashes sweeping up his face. “I left him a voicemail talking about his people and suggesting he continue to have a role on an employee committee. He called me back. He’d wanted to know that the business was more than a balance sheet for me.”
“I’m glad. People are my business. It’s my job to spot what could make them unhappy and head it off before it happens,” I replied, trying to stay matter-of-fact.
“I see that. I can’t imagine anyone being unhappy with you around.” He narrowed his eyes and my heart began to flutter against my ribs.
I didn’t know how to respond. I’d never known a guest so focused on business on a yacht. But this lighter, and definitely flirtatious, side of Hayden that snuck out here and there had me in a spin. And I knew I shouldn’t encourage it, but I enjoyed this side of him and wanted to see it more.
A beat of silence passed between us and I went to walk away before he spoke. “I bet you’ve seen a lot. People with money can be . . . colorful.” It was as if he were trying to prolong our interaction, just to talk about nothing in particular.
“It’s amazing what money can buy,” I replied, also wanting the conversation to continue. Most of the time I just saw people’s behavior as indulgent but every now and then I found the excess too much.
“Drugs?” he asked.
I flipped my tray under my arm. “No way. That’s a pretty hard line. I mean, I know it happens on boats used by the owners, but not on charters. There’s too much to lose for the captains, though the alcohol tends to more than make up for it.”
“I bet. I’ve never really been much of a drinker.”
Of course I knew that about him already. “Too much of a control freak?” I asked, then inwardly cringed.
He smirked. “You noticed?” He sipped his coffee as if we were two colleagues or friends having a chat. “I think I’ve always been too ambitious, too focused. Even at university I was scouring the financial pages at 5am when everyone else was passed out with a hangover.”