The vulnerability in his admission touches something deep inside me.
"Maybe that's something we have in common," I say quietly."Keeping the hardest parts hidden."
He nods, his expression thoughtful."Despite Duncan's uselessness and Richard's texts...tonight was the best evening I've had in a very long time."
"Better than sleeping on a yacht?"I can't help asking.
His smile is warm as he swipes a hand through his dark copper hair."Infinitely."
With that, he's gone, leaving me leaning against the doorframe with swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the dawning realization that I might be falling for another Abernathy man.
Only this time, it feels like something worth the risk.
14
A TIME TO KILT
CALLUM
The midsummer Seattle evening stretches long and lazy as I pace the deck of my yacht, the Fidelity.
It's only been four days since Karina fled my hotel suite after our unexpected...encounter.
Four days of catching her eyes across the office before she quickly looks away.
Four days of watching her bite her lower lip when she thinks I'm not looking.
Four days of pretending I haven't been reliving the taste of her mouth, the sound she made when I?—
"Mr.Abernathy?"My captain interrupts my decidedly unprofessional thoughts."Car's approaching the marina now."
"Thank you, Craig."I straighten my tie, adjusting the MacTavish tartan pin Fiona had insisted I wear tonight."Enemy colors," she'd called it with a wink."Keep your enemies close and your tartan closer."
July's warm breeze carries the scent of saltwater as I watch the black town car pull to a stop at the dock.
I've spent the past hour rehearsing what I'll say to Karina.Professional.Reasonable.
Absolutely focused on our mission to infiltrate Duncan MacTavish's annual "Shipmates and Shellfish" gathering at his waterfront estate in Tacoma.
Not at all focused on the fact that kissing her felt like finding something I'd been missing.
The car door opens, and there she is.
My carefully rehearsed speech evaporates.
Karina emerges in a sleek emerald dress that hugs curves I've been desperately trying to forget.
Her dark hair is swept up, exposing the elegant line of her neck.
She spots me and hesitates, uncertainty crossing her face before she squares her shoulders and begins walking toward the yacht.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain Broody?"she calls, one hand clutching a small handbag, the other steadying herself on the dock railing.
"Granted.”I extend a hand to help her onto the deck."You look..."
"Professional.Appropriate.Suitable for infiltrating the lair of our primary suspect."
"That's one way to put it."
