They looked like they belonged together, this powerful vessel and the man so at ease here. His stance, with his hands planted on his hips, seemed to emphasise the width of his straight shoulders and the power in that tall form.
She shook her head. ‘It’s not for me to approve. If you want to buy a yacht, you can. What’s the point of having money if all you do with it is make more money?’
His response was a bark of laughter. ‘Obviously, you don’t know my father. Making money and thereby accruing more and more influence and power can be an end in itself.’
‘But not for you.’
Conall had the skills and determination to succeed and he used them to great effect. His reputation for nosing out solid investments was well-deserved, and then there were the riskier opportunities, less certain but with great rewards when they succeeded. He had an instinct for those and a reputation for success.
It struck her that from everything she’d seen, influence and power weren’t what drove him.
What did? She wished she knew. But his motivation was none of her business. No matter how much he intrigued her. She brushed aside that dangerous thought. She worked for him, that was all. She needed to remember that.
But it was hard to do when he stood there looking like some sexy, modern-day pirate, his eyes glowing with a hint of laughter and his powerful body exuding competence and charisma.
Deliberately Greer surveyed the boat. ‘What would you do with it if you buy it?’
‘Sail her, of course. I always liked yachting but haven’t done much lately.’ His gaze touched hers and held it. ‘I’ve been thinking about how unpredictable life is and decided it was time to get out and do some of the things I enjoy. There’s no point waiting.’
Despite her best efforts, Greer’s eyebrows rose. This was the man who worked seven days a week. Who rarely took a holiday.
But looking into his eyes, she knew he meant it.
He’d realised life was unpredictable. Because of her accident?
It seemed likely. One moment she’d been walking on the footpath and the next she’d been on her way to hospital, unconscious. When she’d woken the last several months had been a black hole.
The idea that her situation had impacted him felt troublingly personal. She’d been grateful for his kindness since the accident but it hadn’t occurred to her that her disaster might change him too.
‘Would you like a tour before we go?’
‘Go?’
He nodded. ‘I’m thinking of buying her, so we’re going out on the harbour to try her out.’
Greer stiffened. ‘But I don’t know anything about sailing. I’ve never been on a boat, just a canoe.’
There’d been no sailing boats in her childhood. That was for rich people. She’d been a netball girl, member of the local team in whichever town she and her mum found themselves.
Conall moved nearer and her pulse ramped up.
‘You’ll be safe. I know what I’m doing and you’ll have a life jacket.’ He paused, watching her closely. ‘I thought it would make a nice change from being cooped up indoors. To do something fun. I can only guess how difficult the last weeks have been for you, Greer. But if you’d rather not…’
Stunned, she shook her head. He was doing this forher? Not buying the boat, of course, but planning today’s outing. To give her something to take her mind off the amnesia?
Alarms rang. She’d always been careful to keep some distance from Conall, hiding how he dazzled her. Since her amnesia she’d had to work at that even harder. Her defences were low and she felt vulnerable, as if every emotion sat too close to the surface. She couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing that.
But how could she pretend to aloofness now? The idea her well-being was so much on his mind stifled any objection.
Reluctantly she felt her lips curve into a smile. ‘It sounds tempting, lolling on a billionaire’s yacht.’
A long dimple scored one tanned cheek and it was as if he’d dragged tight a cord that stretched from her throat to her womb. She felt that smile in every needy part of her body.
Silently Greer cursed her weakness for this man. The attraction nothing seemed to budge. Despite all her caution and her determination, it was getting worse, not better.
‘It’s not mine yet, Greer.’ He paused and she fought not to react to the sound of her name on his lips. ‘But Iwouldlike your impressions. There’s a gourmet lunch in the galley and I know a secluded cove perfect for a picnic. What do you think?’
It was the worst idea she’d heard in forever.
