Page 8 of The Heir Affair

But as they reached the boat, his hand dropped away.

Had he felt it, too? Heat burst in her cheeks—and pulsed disconcertingly between her thighs. What exactlywasthat about?

She thanked God for the darkness.

He stepped into the speedboat, steadying himself with ease when the boat rocked, then turned to offer her his hand. The flash of memory, when he’d offered her his hand once before, to help her onto his jet ski—and later at his pool on the island, when he’d pulled her up off the lounger—made the pulsing between her thighs increase. She squeezed her thigh muscles to try and control it… It didn’t help.

What was wrong with her? Was this some kind of weird biological reaction to her baby’s father? Because she wasn’t stillattracted to him. How could she be? Now she knew all the lies he’d told to lure her into a false sense of intimacy that day.

Unfortunately, though, there was no way she was going to be able to climb aboard the boat without taking his hand, because she wasn’t exactly an accomplished sailor. And she was wearing a pencil skirt.

‘It is a little late to be afraid of my touch, Poppy,’ he said, his gruff voice snapping her out of her frantic thoughts.

That he had noticed her hesitation made the heat in her cheeks surge. ‘I—I’m not,’ she replied. From the sceptical arch of his eyebrow, he knew she was lying.

She grasped his hand, bracing against the telltale shiver when his long strong fingers folded over her palm.

But as she stepped from the safety of the dock, the boat swayed alarmingly. She gasped, as his hands dropped to hold her waist and lift her the rest of the way. Suddenly, she was flush against him, her rounded stomach touching him, her lungs filling with the intoxicating scent she remembered, soap and man, detectable now under the expensive notes of his sandalwood cologne and the fresh salty air.

She tried to step back, aware of the heat rising up her neck and sinking deep into her abdomen, but his hold on her waist remained firm.

‘Stand still until the boat stops rocking, or we will both end up in the water,’ he demanded.

She glanced up—way, way up—to find him gauging her reaction. But instead of the cynicism and disdain she had expected, she saw the flicker of amusement. And the dark awareness she remembered from that day.

‘It’s not funny,’ she managed, her throat as raw as the rest of her, unsettled by the reminder of the brooding beach bum, and the watchfulness that had once aroused her.

‘You think not?’ he asked, clearly amused now, and at her expense.

The boat finally stopped swaying and he slid his hands from her waist, but not before she got another lungful of his addictive scent.

She scrambled into the passenger seat, so aware of him she was shaking. He seemed unmoved by the brief contact though, as he climbed into the driving seat.

She had to grab the handrail as the boat purred to life, then lifted out of the water.

They sped across the bay, bouncing over the slow tug of the tide, towards an enormous boat—its four storeys lit up like a Christmas tree. Her heartbeat accelerated.

That’s a yacht?

From where Poppy was sitting—as the launch circled the enormous hull and Caras cut the speedboat’s engine to drift up to the lowered platform at the back—it looked more like a mini ocean liner.

A man appeared wearing a uniform of black shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt with epaulets that had the Caras Shipping logo embroidered on the breast pocket. Caras threw him a line and the crew member tied it off.

‘Welcome aboard, Mr Caras,’ he said. ‘Miss,’ he added, giving her a nod of greeting.

‘Hi, Jack. This is Poppy,’ he said, surprising her. She hadn’t expected him to introduce her to his crew, especially as she was obviously pregnant. Wouldn’t they ask questions? ‘Tell Meghan to prepare the Sunrise Suite for my guest.’

Sorry? What now?

‘Is Theo aboard?’ he added, while Poppy was still trying to control her shock. Why would she need a suite? She wasn’t going to stay.

The crew member shook his head. ‘Your brother has not yet returned. I’ll send the launch back for him and let Meghan know right away, sir. Do you and your guest require dinner?’

Stepping off the launch, Caras turned to offer her his hand again. She didn’t have much choice but to take it, even though all her alarm bells were going off when he tugged her onto the deck then placed a controlling arm around her waist.

‘Are you hungry?’ His gaze shifted to her belly. ‘Is there anything you would like?’ he asked, as if she really were a guest instead of being here under duress.

She shook her head, not able to speak round the ball of outrage forming in her throat.