Slow Hands

she seemed fully in her element, completely caught up in what she was doing. Obviously the woman knew her way around this vessel and she had unerringly led them far from shore. She’d given him orders, and he’d followed, not sure which was sexier—her amazing body, or the way she barked commands, so sure she was in charge.
    Maybe of the boat. Nothing else.
    “I do. How about you? Feeling all right?” she asked. “I know some people get a little seasick.”
    “I’m fine.” Jake wasn’t stupid—he’d grabbed some motion sickness pills on the way to the marina.
    “Good.”
    Eyes on the horizon, Maddy absently lifted her hands and caught her hair between them, twisting it and tucking it into a loose bun at her nape. Every move was smooth and fluid, as elegant and graceful as the Magdalena herself.
    Jake couldn’t help it. He reached out and ran his fingers through the silky strand veil, pulling it back down.
    “Hey!”
    “I like seeing the wind blow through your hair,” he explained simply.
    She licked her lips, but didn’t protest. “Oh.”
    The hair stayed down.
    They continued traveling for another hour, not really talking, not really needing to. Jake suspected they were both still replaying the conversation they’d had back on shore. What they’d agreed to. What it had meant and where it would lead. Not just in thirty days…but now.
    She’d hired him. But that had nothing to do with the fantasies playing in his mind. Fantasies about laying her down on a thick towel, plucking the strings of her bikini and revealing her magnificent body to the wide-open sky. And his hungry gaze.
    Being in bed with her the other night had been fantastic. Plunging into her beneath the brilliant sun, feeling the heat on his back that couldn’t rival the heat in her tight channel, would be absolutely mind-blowing.
    Though he couldn’t exactly see, because of her dark sunglasses, he felt sure Maddy was watching him. She stole several long glances at him, especially when he pulled his own shirt off and let the sun warm his bare skin.
    With her stare affecting him as powerfully as a touch, he suspected her visions—fantasies—mirrored his.
    He didn’t say a thing, didn’t suggest they stop, didn’t tell her how much he wanted her. Instead he let them both think on it awhile. Build it. Anticipate it.
    They’d be dying for it when the time came.
    And that time seemed to be now. Maddy wordlessly adjusted the sails to slow their speed. “Are you hungry?” she asked, not even looking in his direction. “I brought some lunch. We could stop for a while to eat.”
    Stop for a while. ’Bout damn time. “Put it on autopilot and busy ourselves some other way, you mean?”
    Her laugh was thin. Weak and breathy. “Uh…something like that.” She nodded toward the cabin. “There’s a bag on the counter, and another in the fridge. Would you mind getting them?”
    Jake did as she asked, awed once again that the cabin of this boat was bigger than the living room in his small apartment. And more richly furnished. There was a large, comfortable-looking bed, but it didn’t tempt him. Not yet. He wanted to have Maddy on the hard planking of the deck, the only ceiling above them a vivid blue one streaked with golden sunshine.
    “Got it?” she called from above.
    “Coming.” He glanced into the bag on the counter, spying fresh bread, fancy crackers…and a box of condoms. “Oh, I’m definitely coming.”
    Retrieving a bag of cheese and fruit from the fridge, plus an icy bottle of champagne and two glasses, he brought everything up on deck. When he spied the name on the label and the pricy brand of cheese, he whistled. “You do sail prepared.” Putting the food down on a small table between two lounge chairs, he murmured, “You must have been pretty sure I’d say yes to your proposal.”
    “Actually,” she admitted, “I had originally planned to whisk you out here onto the water and ply you with food and alcohol before I asked you.”
    Her amusing, matter-of-fact tone took the sting out of her surprisingly honest confession. “If you’d taken off those shorts, it probably would have worked.”
    Laughing softly, Maddy reached for the button at her waist and unfastened it. A quick flick of her fingers and the cotton fabric fell to puddle at her feet, and was then kicked away.
    “Oh, God,” he whispered, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head with his index finger. Then he could only stare in voracious