It’s late by the time we make it back to the boat. All the other guests are there, drinking Champagne and eating nibbles.
We take our seats on the open deck, enjoying the last of the day’s sunshine.
“Thank you for today,” she whispers, her fingers touching mine on the seat. She closes her eyes and drops her head back. “This has been perfect.”
“You’re welcome,” I say quietly. “Thank you for agreeing to spend the day with me.”
The boat heads out into open water, and we watch as the sun begins its descent over the horizon. The sky dims from bright yellow to a deeper gold, then shifts to deeper pinks, purples, and oranges as it finally disappears from view.
When she turns her head, her eyes lock on mine, and I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and kiss her, until we’re both breathless with need. But I refrain. Instead, I survive on the flashbacks of last night, her body pressed against mine, our lips fused together.
Kat offers me a slow smile, as if she knows what I’m thinking. I choke down my groan and shift uncomfortably. My body is not getting the memo of time and place.
The boat docks, and I climb onto the jetty and hold out a hand. Kat places hers in mine, the hairs on my arms and nape rising, as she grips it and steps onto the wooden platform.
When she lets go, my fingers ache with the need to reconnect.
We walk in silence past the brightly lit bar, making our way towards the main restaurant.
“Dinner?” I ask.
“I was thinking of ordering room service,” she says, her eyes darting towards the bustling space.
My heart drops.
This is it.
Kat stops suddenly, turning to face me. “Would you care to join me?”
I’m slightly ahead, so I turn to face her.
“Join you?”
“With room service. I’m not sure I can face the restaurant.”
I get it. She was approached on more than one occasion today by couples who told her what an amazing time they’re having. Every time it happened, she neither huffed nor cut anyone off. Instead, she stopped and smiled, asking each of them a question about their trip, where they were from, and how long they were staying. She showed the same amount of interest in the first person as she did the last.
“I’d like that,” I say, finding I don’t want today to end.
“Excellent,” she says, her lips tilting up.
We turn to leave.
“Ms Frazer.”
Don Baskin takes that moment to approach, and I stifle a groan.
Her muscles lock, her eyes close briefly.
I want to shout “Leave her alone,” but I hold my counsel.
“Ms Frazer,” he says again.
Kat opens her eyes, forcing her shoulders to relax as she plasters on a smile, turning to face the man wanting her attention.
“Mr Baskin, Don. What can I help you with?”
CEO Kat is back in place.
