The Wrong Gentleman

“Well for tonight, Landon will look after you,” August said, taking a sip of her drink and wincing.

“I don’t need anyone to look after me,” Skylar said.

I believed she meant it, but I suspected that someone to look after her was just what she needed. I was prepared to take the job tonight.

“Is Landon not rich enough for you, Skylar?” Harvey asked.

If only he knew.

“Something like that,” Skylar replied. “Although he has nice shoes. And his watch is decent.”

Decent? My watch was the most expensive thing I owned. I’d only closed the sale on my business two weeks ago, and my watch was the only evidence of the multiple zeros sitting in my bank account. “I’m just a lowly deckhand. I’m sure I wouldn’t meet any of Skylar’s criteria,” I said. “And I’m not wife shopping, that’s for sure.”

Skylar’s eyes lit up. “There you go. He’s a committed commitment-phobe. We’re not going to ride off into the sunset together, August. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

I chuckled. “The sun went down some time ago. Far more interesting things happen after dark.”

Skylar rolled her eyes at me. “And lots of scary things come out. Coyotes. Vampires. Grave robbers.”

If there was anything that I liked more than a beautiful blonde, it was a beautiful blonde who challenged me. “Well, I promise I’m not a coyote or a grave robber. Not sure I can be definitive about not being a vampire. I do sometimes like to bite.”

She tried to hold back a smile, but I saw it tugging at the edges of that delicious mouth. “You’re smooth, British Boy, and everything I don’t need.”

I was pretty sure I could offer her what she needed tonight. “Is that right?” I grinned at her.

She looked right at me as if she were trying to reach in and grab whatever I was thinking and then just shrugged and scanned the bar as if looking for someone more interesting to talk to. Was she faking it or was she really not interested?

“So tell me more about your list of criteria. Does it leave room for . . . attraction? Passion?” I asked as my gaze trailed down her body. When I first saw her, I’d thought of her as pretty, but I could think of a thousand words more appropriate. She was way beyond pretty.

She rolled her eyes. “Love. Passion. Attraction. At best they are temporary feelings and at worst they lead to bad decision-making and horrible consequences.”

I couldn’t think of a response. I was hardly a proponent of emotion and feeling. It wasn’t me at all. But I wanted to dig deeper, understand a little more about why Skylar had come to such a conclusion—I was pretty sure she didn’t have SAS training as an excuse. So, what was it?

“And don’t think you’re going to convince me to change my mind—even with that accent and jawline.”

I was clear that Skylar hadn’t meant to admit that she was attracted to me. But it was all the encouragement I needed. “I don’t need to convince any woman to spend a night in my bed,” I replied, catching her small intake of breath as I spoke.

“Is that right?” she asked, her tone a little less confident than before.

“Believe it or not, women sleep with me even though I’m not a billionaire and don’t offer them a ring as soon as we meet.”

“Well, I guess that’s their lookout.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps they just think I look like a man who knows how to make a woman feel good.”

Beneath the polished beauty that Skylar wore so effortlessly, I could tell there were things she was hiding, scars that she covered with her story about having a checklist for a man. It might be true. But I had a feeling it was just a front, and I wanted to take her back to my hotel, undress her, and have her tell me all her secrets.

“You seem to be pretty sure of yourself,” she said, as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, pushing out her hip toward me, and I had to resist the urge to smooth my palm down her curves.

“I might be the lowest ranking member of the crew,” I said into her ear. “But believe me, I don’t fuck like a deckhand.”

Four

Skylar

Landon was everything to avoid—tall, super good looking, charming, and British.

I’d have to initiate my best defense.