The Boss and Her Billionaire (16 page)

“Should I say thank you now or wait for your full compliment?” Michaela surprised herself with the

flirtatious remark.

Go, girl. Time to show him you really are the boss.

“Pardon me,” Dylan said. “What I meant to say was that you look extraordinarily beautiful today.” He

smiled again, and any sardonic reply that Michaela might have hoped to make faded from her lips.

“Dylan,” she began. “We should probably talk.”

He held up a hand. “You’re right, of course, but can it wait for just a minute or two? We have all day, don’t we?”

All day. The things they could get up to with a whole day. He was right, talking could wait. Better to live a little and enjoy whatever was on offer. There was something about him, though, something deeper.

She felt a current of elemental pleasure in his company that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She would ignore it. This was about fun, remember? Fun would be enough. It would have to be.

Michaela reached out a hand toward his face but quickly redirected it to the fruit platter. She didn’t know if she was quite ready for the spark of contact just yet.

They chatted about nothing for a short time, eating the fruit, admiring the view and the quiet. It was easy being with him.

“May I show you to your suite?” The porter had returned, soundlessly arriving to whisk the empty plate away.

Dylan stood and held out a hand for Michaela, a heated look on his face. She nodded, ignoring the hand, and stood to follow the porter along a beautifully manicured path to a suite that rose out of the ocean itself. She felt Dylan’s eyes on her back and found her swaying provocatively as she walked.

Let him have something to look forward to.

But all thoughts stopped when they arrived at the sheltered entrance to the bungalow. “Oh, it’s

beautiful,” she gasped and turned to give Dylan a huge grin.

“Enjoy.” The porter handed her the key, and she glanced down at it. When she looked up again, he’d

disappeared.

“How do they do that?” Dylan asked. Michaela could only shrug.

Placing the key on a table, she walked around the room. Her beach bag had already been laid out, and a huge set of French doors stood open, making it feel as if the ocean had access to the room. The interior was all wood, which gave everything a warm and inviting feel. Clever hidden recesses held vases, water jugs, and fruit. The small veranda featured a tailor-made swing seat.

But the dominant feature by far was an enormous four-poster bed covered in hazy white fabric that

blew tantalizingly in the warm Pacific breeze. As she stared at the bed, Michaela felt Dylan’s hot gaze on her neck, and she quickly headed for her bag. “The island is a marine reserve. I thought we could go

snorkeling before lunch,” she said.

Dylan came up behind her and gently turned her by the elbow. “Sounds great,” he said. “Perhaps we

should have that talk first, though. Come, sit with me a while.” He led her to an overstuffed white couch, placed to take in the spectacular views.

Michaela sat. “I’m sorry,” she said, wanting to apologize first. “I was so quick to ume it was you who had bragged about being with me, and I didn’t even give you a chance to deny it. But rather than giving up on me, you went and found out the real story and saved my entire career. I wanted to say thank you—

thank you so very much for doing that for me.” She risked a look up at him from under her eyelashes,

but he was gazing out at the ocean. Her confidence rose. “I guess I was a little scared.” There. She’d said it. “I was scared of losing control like that again. And I was scared of what getting involved with you could mean for everything I thought I valued.”

Dylan looked her full in the eyes. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not going to lie to you a

second time. I’ve never talked to anyone about my family before, and I appreciate that you listen—that you care. I hope you know that. We’re fully consenting adults, and what we do is no one’s business but our own.”

That wasn’t really what she’d meant, and she had to push aside the disappointment. She hadn’t

expected a proposal, but after he’d shared everything with her about his brother she’d thought maybe

there was something more between them.It didn’t mean he wasn’t great to be with, though. “I haven’t

told anyone about my background, either,” she said. “I mean, some people know about where I worked

before, but not about my plans. My dreams.”

“I’m glad you trust me with them. Tell me where you’re going to be in ten years.”

They sat for another hour, simply talking, and at the end of it all Michaela realized she’d told him all about her dreams, her five-year promise, her desire to somehow mix an international career and family.

But she didn’t feel embarrassed anymore. Quite the opposite, the ease she had felt with him during

their time under moonlight had returned.

He reminded her of her earlier confession. “There’s nothing to be scared of here, but I can’t protect you from yourself. You have to decide what it is that you want in life. And if I can be a small part of that for a short time, well, don’t you think that would be fun? I appreciate your overlooking how I got this job. It was a total spur-of-the-moment thing, auditioning, but now you know why I needed something to get

me out of my head. Something completely outside of my normal life. Like I said, I don’t do holidays. If I’d had to sit around and read a book for this long, I already would have gone crazy.”

He smiled at her, a coronary-inducing, thigh-quivering smile. She wanted to throw herself at him, but he stood up. “So, ready for some fun?”

He’d said it again. Fun. Of course. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something different.

That there might be something more between them than a bit of fun. But no, fun was just what she

needed. At least for now.

“Can we start again?” she asked.

Dylan’s smile was delicious—the green of both ocean and forest in his eyes, and the heat in their depths sparkled. “To fun?” he asked and held out his hand.

“Fun,” she said, taking it, her heart racing.

“Now, about that snorkeling,” he said. “Race you to change?”

Michaela wondered at what his definition of fun might be. As she changed into her pale blue bikini in the luxurious bathroom, her skin tingled, and when she emerged she felt Dylan’s gaze as if his eyes had physically stroked her.

In the water, however, she forgot about her desire, reveling in the expanse of brilliant coral and the hundreds of species of tropical fish. “Did you see that tiny one?” she called as she came up after a long bout of snorkeling. “It was so cute and so bright blue. I wonder if it has competitions with its friends to see who can be the brightest. And those yellow-and-black striped fish, one of them came right up to my mask. And another one nibbled on my finger! Oh, I’d forgotten how much fun this is.”

Dylan swam over beside her and lay floating on his back. She couldn’t help herself—she ran a hand

down his smooth chest. The warm ocean water made his skin silky. She glanced at his face and caught

him looking at her, a hot smile on his lips. His hand reached for hers as his feet found the ocean floor, and he pulled her fingers to his mouth.

“Sorry,” she said.

He frowned. “Sorry for the debacle on the ship, or sorry that you’re going to deny me again?”

“No. Yes. Sorry for before, but—” She lowered her eyes. “—could we pretend we really are starting

again? And, you know, take everything a little slow?” At least that way she might be able to retain a modicum of control.

“I don’t recall taking anything slowly to start with,” he teased. “But I can try and be slower this time.

Although don’t blame me if you’re the one begging me to up the tempo.” Slowly, very slowly, he stroked her chin, turning her face up toward his. The kiss was gentle, a mere breath, and she raised her arms to wrap around his shoulders as he pulled his lips away. Dylan’s arms encircled her waist in return, and they stood, gently buffeted by the movement of the water for just a moment.

Oh, man, having fun tasted really good. As one, their heads moved together again. This kiss was

luxurious, a deep, easy hello with a hint of the spice that was to follow. When she surfaced, Michaela looked into Dylan’s eyes and smiled. Hello, indeed. As she unwrapped herself from him and went to dive back under the water, he stopped her, his hands firm on her bare stomach. Kiss me, kiss me again.

“Hello again,” he said, stooping to kiss her neck as if, once again, he knew exactly what she’d been

thinking.

Rather than it being unnerving, this time Michaela found his uncanny clairvoyance reassuring. They were in tune. She smiled as he straightened, and he squeezed her before he released her waist. “Slow, hey?

Well, you certainly know how to toy with a man.” Before she could protest, he took her hand and dived under the water again.

They splashed around in the water a while longer, diving down to peer into the haven of tropical fish, and to Michaela’s delight a large sea turtle even paid them a visit, its mottled shell a rippling

kaleidoscope of ochre and brown as it glided effortlessly past. But with every stroke her arm made

through the water, she remained constantly aware of Dylan’s presence, of his form through the water,

his muscles eating up distance when he put on a burst of speed.

Occasionally, his arm would brush against her bare skin, sending tingles throughout her whole being.

We’re taking it slowly. There was no doubt her body wanted to betray this resolve, and despite the

wonders of the marine universe, she found her thoughts straying to what might be in store for them if they let themselves collide in this warm water paradise.

“Should we stop for lunch?” she asked, attempting to distract herself from wanting to touch him.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He caught hold of her arm, pulling her close. “I’m famished.” He brought his mouth down over hers in a kiss that was anything but slow or gentle. The tingling of her skin became an electrified demand. “You seem to be starving, too,” he said, gesturing to her s, peaked against the

clinging fabric of her bikini top. “I think I’ll have cruise director de jour first, followed closely by a helping of cruise director à la mode.” With that, he picked her up out of the water and strode the short distance back to their room with her and their snorkeling gear in his arms.

“Stop it! We were going to take it slow, remember?” But she was smiling as she spoke, and she could

see him trying not to laugh at her feeble protest.

“It will be slow,” he promised. “So slow that you’ll beg me to speed it up. But don’t worry,” he said, as she started to protest again. “I’ll make sure that this time neither of us arrives too quickly.”

Setting her down in their suite, Dylan let her squeeze the water from her hair, then wrapped a towel

around her to take off most of the ocean’s wetness before whipping it away, leaving her standing only in her bikini.

Looking down, she saw the sheen of dampness made her skin glisten. Not bad, considering how much

time I spend at my desk. Dylan wrapped the towel about himself, then stroked her face gently as he had in the ocean. Delicious.

“I don’t think you want to be completely dry, do you?”

Michaela shuddered as he ran his fingertips over her arms and down to her fingers, finally lifting her hands up to rest on his bare chest. Trailing his fingers back down her arms to trace the undersides of her s, Dylan smiled, and she watched his pupils dilate with desire.

“Take it slow. We agreed, didn’t we?” True to his word, he slowly, ever so slowly undid the knot behind her neck. Then the one at her back. Her bikini top fell uselessly to the floor.

She automatically went to put her hands over her chest, then repressed the urge, letting her arms drop to her sides and his hot gaze burn her flesh. He rewarded her with a smile. One at a time, he undid the bows at the sides of her bikini bottom until she was standing, still damp, entirely in front of him.

“Lovely,” he said, and stooped to kiss first one side of her neck, then the other.

The towel was still slung low around his waist. Michaela longed to tear it off, but she controlled herself, biting her lip and trying not to look below his chest. He must have noticed.

“You were the one who asked to take it slow,” he drawled. “There’s no going back on your request

now.”

As he reached for a bottle of water, his muscles rippled, and she longed to touch them. “Show-off.”

George’s dance routines were certainly doing great things for his body.

“That’s not showing off. Now this—” Dylan put down the water and struck a 1980s Mr. T glamour pose,

which made Michaela laugh.

“Or maybe this?” He extended an arm in a long dance pose so his pectorals rippled and Michaela had to work to hold back her sharp intake of breath.

“Enough of that.”

He dropped the pose and ran his hands from her fingertips to her shoulders, over her sternum and

down, hovering over each . His light touch sent shivers over her skin. When he feathered his fingers

around her aroused s, she strained toward him, hungry for his touch, but he was unrelenting, lightly

cupping both her s, then releasing them before continuing down over her stomach and . “Is this fun

yet?” he asked, grinning.

“No, not fun at all.”

“I better try harder.” Hands at her , he lifted her up and walked the few steps to the bed before laying her down under the dreamy white fabric of the four-poster. She longed to pull him down onto her.No,

you wanted to take it slow. You can do this. If you let him win, you’ll never hear the end of it.

Leaning over, he kissed her neck, her cheeks, her ears, then finally, finally took a in his mouth. Despite herself, she whimpered. She trailed her fingers down his back, the pressure gentle at first, but as he pushed her further into arousal, she dug her nails in. Still, he managed to keep her hands away from his towel.