Page 18 of Seasons of Sin

“Great, so you know her name and roughly her address,” Rocco murmured, scrawling both down in his notebook. “What else?”

“We have not spent time interviewing one another,” Thad hedged defensively.

“I bet I can guess how you’ve spent your time.” Rocco clicked the lid back on his pen. “Let me guess; she’s a classic Thaddeus super babe? Blonde? Big tits? Legs that go on forever? Skin the color of burnt sugar?”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong,” he shook his head. Actually, except about her breasts, which were perfection personified. “She’s petite, with hair as dark as night, skin that’s the color of clotted cream and lips … God, her lips.” He sighed. “And her eyes … they are bluer than the sky on a crisp summer’s day. She is exquisite, Rocco. Exquisite.”

He pushed the lid of his MacBook down. How could he even think of work when Saphire was there? It was a waste of his time and energy. “And she makes me laugh,” he added as he stood.

Rocco, in all their years as mates, had never heard Thad describe a woman in such a way. And because their friendship scored deep in both men, and because Rocco felt a concern over Thad’s state of mind given the recent bereavement he had suffered, he knew that he had to do something to protect his friend.

Gorgeous, available women didn’t just fall into men’s laps in their hour of need. Something was wrong with this little situation, and Rocco knew, even as he hung up the call, that he would not rest until he’d found out what it was.

* * *

It was seta little further down the shoreline than the jetty his speedboat was moored to. A second boat was anchored just off-shore; bigger and far more prestigious. Saphire wasn’t much of a fan of boats, but her father and husband had both enjoyed their fair share of time on luxurious yachts. She knew from information she’d gleaned from their conversations that the boat in front of her was a top-of-the-line craft.

“What is this?” She murmured.

“You didn’t want to go to Athens,” he said simply, holding her hand as she stepped into the small motor-boat.

Her eyes flew to his.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Relax,” he smiled at her as he crouched beside the engine and pulled it to life. It hummed with power; it took only a minute for it to cut through the shallow waters and pull them alongside the bigger boat.

“You want me to climb up there?” She said uncertainly. Her tummy was in knots; it had nothing to do with this man, for once, and everything to do with the mess that was waiting for her back home.

“You’re not going to claim to be afraid of heights, are you?” He teased.

She sent him a droll look. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“That’s my girl.”

More pain. She wasn’t his girl. She never would be. “I’m not dressed for anything other than this boat,” she warned him, asshe hooked a bare foot onto the lowest rung of the ladder and begun to climb up. Though she’d taken one of his work shirts and wore it like an over-sized dress, cinched at the waist with one of his belts. It was almost a passably fashionable ensemble.

“You are dressed perfectly, from where I sit,” he teased, enjoying the view of her rear as she got to the top of the ladder.

“Perve,” she called over her shoulder. She winced when she saw a man in uniform standing with his hand extended, to help her onto the deck. “Thank you.” Her cheeks glowed fire-engine red. She ran her hands down the front of her dress and kept her eyes trained on the ocean. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of purple and silver.

Thad climbed up with an easy athleticism and then stepped aside, so that the man in the suit could climb down and take the small boat back to shore.

“Oh, he’s not staying?” She asked with a lifted brow.

“No.”

Pleasure purred inside of her despite the distressing phone call she’d made that morning.

“I think I’m glad,” she said, reaching down and weaving her fingers through his.

“I am a selfish man, and I am definitely not willing to share you,agape mou,” he promised darkly. And his words spawned a realization in her soul. Would he feel betrayed by the choices she’d made? Would he resent her for using him to take revenge on her no-good husband?

She looked at him properly and it was then that the candles caught her eye. Dozens of little lights twinkled from the bow of the boat, each encased in a glass jar. An ice bucket and a picnic rug in the middle, with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“You said we were going for a walk along the beach,” she laughed unsteadily, her heart tripping over itself.

“We did,” he grinned.