The Wrong Gentleman

“Of course I’m a killjoy. I’m chief stew. It’s my job.” I grinned.

As we got to the top of the stairs, a door marked “Galley” caught my attention. “Perfect,” I said and pushed my way through the two-way door.

“Captain!” I said, seeing the avuncular Desmond Brookes at the table, reading USA Today.

“Skylar. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” I swore if he swapped out his captain’s uniform for a red and white suit, he’d look exactly like Santa.

He greeted me with a hug.

“How is Mrs. Brookes?”

“Perfection, as always.”

I grinned. Captain and Mrs. Brookes were the ultimate love match, and I hung on every word when he talked about his wife. “It’s good to know the perfect couple does exist.”

August cleared her throat behind me. I’d almost forgotten she was there. “This is my good friend, August. Second stew. August, this is the best captain ever.”

“Well,” he said, extending his hand to August, “until you piss me off, that is.”

I slid into the banquette seating, opposite the captain. “So tell me everything. What’s the owner like? A party animal or bookworm? How are the crew? Do you know them all?”

August had disappeared around the side and it sounded like she was wrestling with the coffee machine before a crash outside the galley and the squeak of the door suggested crew were arriving early.

“Erm, Skylar,” August called.

“Black Americano for me, please,” I replied. “Double espresso for Captain Brookes.”

“Sure. But before I do that . . .” She appeared in front of us both and glanced behind her. “You know that thing you were saying about that thing we’re not talking about?”

Why was she bringing up Landon in front of the captain? It was so unlike August—she was always so protective of me. “We can talk about that later. I just have a few things to talk to the captain about.”

August jumped from foot to foot. “I understand. I just thought you’d want to know the crew has started to arrive.”

My stomach began to roil. What was the matter with her?

“Captain Brookes?” a husky, male, British voice asked.

I took a couple of seconds to focus on the figure walking around August, who looked as if she was trying to block his path.

Captain Brookes stood and held out his hand just as Landon came into view.

My breathing stopped and my heart clattered against my ribcage as I stared at that familiar face.

“Landon James, I’m your new junior deckhand,” he said as he clasped Captain Brookes’ hand.

This couldn’t be happening. My detour, my one-night stand, the man who’d given me three orgasms last night and stared into my soul couldn’t be working on this boat. It just wasn’t possible.

Seven

Skylar

Landon James.

Landon freaking James.

How had I not figured out we were on the same boat last night?

One hundred percent pure temptation, the man who’d acted like he knew me or at least wanted to, who seemed to be able to make me feel desired and protected in just a few hours of knowing him, had followed me onto the yacht. Hopefully he wouldn’t be looking for a replay of last night any more than I would be.