‘I need more than that. I need specifics.’
‘Not now,’ he stated firmly.
She was a grown woman with a phone and the ability to call for help if she needed to. She told herself to calm down and look at this sensibly. Having got herself into this situation, she could either see it through, or take a boat back to shore as Luca had already suggested. His crew respected him, and appeared glad to have him back. There were no funny looks, or anything to make her feel nervous. She could get to know him on board, and understand this incredible lifestyle.
‘When?’ she asked, softening the question with a smile.
‘After dinner,’ he suggested. ‘Why are you still trembling?’ he asked, frowning.
Was it that obvious? It was the Luca effect, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. ‘The breeze is kicking up,’ she excused. ‘Time to go below decks to my quarters?’ She couldn’t drop a hint any bigger than that.
‘This is a sailing yacht,’ he reminded her, ‘and not one of those “floating office blocks” you referred to.’
‘And it’s lovely,’ she said.
The quirk of one ebony brow warned her not to play with fire. No danger of that. She doubted she’d be on board long enough to get her fingers burned.
Samia remained uncharacteristically silent, which threw him. Inviting a woman onto his yacht within an hour of meeting her was not normal behaviour. The text from his team had endorsed his belief that a mix of gut instinct and feral lust could occasionally provide a solution to a problem. His next task was to convince Samia to become his bride.
Well, that should be easy, he mused dryly, taking in the stubborn set of her chin. Samia owed Madlena nothing, and him even less, and, while many might jump at the chance of marrying a prince, he doubted Samia would be the least bit impressed by either status or wealth. Independent and feisty, she would determine her own route through life. It was his task to make sure that route led to him.
In pursuit of a seemingly ideal solution, he ran a list of benefits due a royal bride through his mind: the throne of Madlena, priceless crown jewels, front row seats at every prestige event, private jets, superyachts, palaces and homes across the world.Sycophants aplenty. He grimaced at this last thought.Must try harder, he reflected with a tinge of amusement as Samia glanced his way. It was hard not to be captivated by her enthusiasm as he took her on a tour of the yacht. How long was it since he’d witnessed such innocent pleasure, or that one of the many visitors to the yacht had dared to admit that anything excited them? It was cool to be blasé, something that seemed to have passed Samia by. She liked something, or she didn’t, and she wasn’t afraid to tell him, whether her opinion wascoolor not.
‘Teams of stylists must have worked on this for months,’ she said as they crossed the grand salon.
‘Years in the planning,’ he revealed, amused to discover she was padding alongside him barefoot. But of course, she didn’t have anything with her, he remembered, apart from a few oddments in her backpack. All that was about to change.
‘It’s a bit bland for me,’ she admitted as glass doors slid open at their approach.
‘Bland?’ he queried, a little taken aback.
‘All this white and taupe is a bit dated, don’t you think? I like a splash of colour.’
‘On board my black yacht?’ he suggested with amusement.
‘Why not?’ she enthused.
Similar to the modern art in his quarters on board, he was thinking. He’d never noticed the rest of the décor before, but seeing it through Samia’s eyes gave it a new slant. As she took a closer look at a maritime map on the wall, his thoughts grew to encompass her soft skin beneath his hands, and the supple warmth of her body straining beneath his. The enticing scent of wildflowers and heat floated in her wake, and for the first time he could remember, he was stirred on board his yacht to do more than haul sail.
‘First impressions?’ he demanded.
‘You are the master of all you survey,’ Samia declared, ‘and theBlack Diamondis a billionaire’s plaything.’
‘It’s a serious sailing yacht, not some toy.’
‘You asked for my opinion.’
And unfortunately that was what she’d given him, straight up with no frills. ‘Why don’t you write a report?’ he asked cynically.
‘If that’s what you’d like?’
She’d taken him seriously, and he couldn’t bring himself to mock this straightforward woman. ‘I would,’ he said. What harm could it do?
‘I’ve spent too long keeping my mouth shut in the past,’ she explained. ‘I’ve no intention of making that mistake again, so what I see is what I say, and if you’d like me to write it down, I’m happy to do so.’
‘It’s a deal,’ he agreed. This microfact made him hungry to hear more. There was nothing he liked better than a challenge, and Samia would not agree with him simply to garner praise. This made her a refreshing change, and the perfect choice of bride for him. But he wasn’t going to let her off too lightly.
‘No wonder sailing is my passion,’ he said dryly.
