Trust Me (7 page)

“So
the sights are different from a boat than they are on shore?” she asked him.

“Indeed.
Not only are the hotel lights and those from the city delightful and romantic from the water, but the lights from the ships have an effect on the fish, and they begin to jump, thinking they’re fireflies.”

“So
Italian for supper and fish for dessert?” she teased as his arm slid along the back of the sofa behind her head and he leaned back against the plush folds of leather.

“There
are many things I can suggest for dessert,” his eyes suddenly grew darker as he smiled at her. “But fish is not one of them.”

“I thought you were staying at the hotel?” She glanced around the room as she spoke, trying to distract the racing of her heart as his stare intensified, her eyes looking anywhere except at him.

“I was, but my yacht was brought up this evening so I checked out and came back here.” Sandra sipped her wine wondering what sort of person stayed in hotels and drove around in luxurious limousines until their private yacht was brought to them. “Are you hungry, or would you like a tour?”

“I’m
not really hungry yet,” she admitted, unable to relax her racing nerves enough to eat. Creighton took their glasses and set them on the coffee table before standing and reaching down, holding his hand out for her again.

“Then
a tour it is. We can eat at sea if you’d rather. It’s very romantic and the salt air increases one’s appetite.” She placed her hand in his and was gently pulled to her feet, finding herself standing so close to him, she could smell his soap, musky cologne and an aroma she was certain was all him. He was even more handsome up close as she stood in front of him; his eyes dark in the dim light, his breath even, the breadth and strength of his arms and chest were intimidating and intoxicating at the same time. She couldn’t help staring at his full soft lips, wondering what they would feel like against hers.

Sandra’s
pulse began to race and she felt very light headed as his free hand reached up and smoothed a strand of hair back behind her ear, before gently coming to rest on her shoulder, lingering slightly longer than socially acceptable. His long finger moved up and traced her jaw line, tipping her chin upward so their eyes locked; the intensity of his gaze seem to steal her breath away and replace in the next moment, bringing with it a tingle of desire.

“Do
you have any idea how breathtaking you are?” he asked her in a tone barely above a whisper, his lips within a breath’s distance of hers. Sandra’s heart skipped a beat and then began a steady race as his mouth brushed hers in a soft gentle touch, like that of a feather caressing her skin. She had to blink to make certain she really felt it; her breath catching in her throat when she saw the look in his dark eyes; so wanting and so seductive and without a second thought, he leaned into her, his mouth pressing against hers making her heart begin to thrum within her ears.

She
closed her eyes as the soft caress of his lips continued, the hand holding her chin moved slowly to the back of her head, his fingers twisting gently within her hair. The hand still holding hers wrapped around her back, pulling her hand behind her, easing her closer to him. As he pulled her against his chest, his lips became more urgent, more demanding. Sandra wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but she briefly registered her free hand move around the back of his neck, her fingers twining in his dark hair. He moaned against her lips and she gasped, but the sound was lost under his gentle assault.

Sandra
couldn’t think, but then she really didn’t want to as his tongue slowly began to trace the outline of her bottom lip before he gently tugged it between his teeth, sucking on the tender flesh. She moaned into his kiss, her back arched toward him while his very skillful tongue slipped effortlessly into her wine sweetened mouth, caressing, teasing and tasting her at once. She could feel the result their kiss had on him when his hand holding hers pulled her tightly against his hips, holding her securely in his embrace. His tongue played and teased with hers until she found the courage to imitate his actions, her heart pounding wildly within her chest; a warmth she had never experienced before, began to spread through her lower regions making her feel dizzy and wanton. Creighton increased the pressure against her lips, deepening his assault on her mouth, his tongue eagerly battling with her. Her head was swimming; the smoldering fire of need began to turn her blood into molted lava, warming her in ways she had never known possible.

When
at last he removed his mouth from hers, she felt slightly chilled, the disappointment of losing the close contact filtered through her libido, but before she could utter a word, his mouth moved down her neck, his tongue tracing a path of warmth along the base of her collarbone. She was certain she was going to combust, her head fell backward in his hand, giving him full access to her throat, her ear and her shoulders. A soft, primal growl echoed around the room and she realized with a sudden shock; it came from her. Her eyes opened wide suddenly aware of what was happening and she stiffened slightly, the feel of him pressing against her, his hot mouth branding her tender flesh caused a twinge of resistance to filter through her mind.

He
must have registered the change in her attitude and slowly pulled away from her shoulder where he had been licking a searing trail down from her ear. He looked down into her eyes and frowned. She wanted to apologize; she wanted to run and hide and yet she wanted to beg for more. The tingling of her nerves, the awareness of sensations she had never known she possessed, began to burn into her conscious and she was suddenly embarrassed.

“I’m
so sorry,” he apologized in a very husky tone. “I wanted our first kiss to be under the stars, something romantic and perfect. I didn’t intend for this to happen, not yet, or to go as far as it did, but looking into those beautiful green eyes, I just lost control.” What could she say to something like that? All she could do was smile…and blush.

“Let
me show you around,” he said after clearing his throat and easing her out of his embrace. Taking her by the hand, he led her slowly out of the glass door they had entered through a short time before and back out into the warm evening air. She tried to focus on where they were walking, but she could barely breathe. She could still feel his lips on her, his arms around her and sadly, she felt cold and empty. No man ever made her feel like that with just his lips.

“Are
you alright?” he asked in a soft tone, his brows pulling into a deep frown over his dark-blue eyes. She had to blink several times to bring herself back to the present then blushed again and nodded.

“I’m
sorry; I was distracted,” she whispered. Creighton sighed deeply and ran a hand through his dark hair, before leading them to a bench seat near the back of the ship. They sat down under the stars, his hands folding over hers.

“I’m
the one who should be sorry,” he said softly. “I really should have had more control. I don’t know what came over me; I usually don’t act without thinking. My only excuse is that I am completely blown away by you. There’s just something about you that calls out to me. I can’t explain it more than that.” Oh, she thought, was this a good thing? “What do you say, we start our date over? Let’s try to get past my deplorable behavior and focus on the rest of the evening?” She couldn’t help but smile at the childish grin he offered her and nodded.

“Then
show me your boat, Monsieur Ashford.” Creighton’s smile widened, and the comfortable feeling was back between them.

He
was very proud of his vessel and it showed in every step he took. The main deck led into a salon, a dining room, a large galley-style kitchen and the parlor they had just left. The master suite was forward, including a separate office and a private master bathroom with a marble shower, double sink, toilet and bidet. Down the hall were three bedrooms each with their own bathrooms, smaller than the master but comfortably-sized, an entertainment room with a pool table, a fifty inch flat-screen television, game table and wet bar. The upper deck had an outdoor dining area, a large swimming pool, a glass-enclosed lounge, the captain’s private suite and stairs that led to the bridge. The uppermost deck had a Jacuzzi and a glass-enclosed weight room with a locker type bathroom.

The
lower deck had a swimming platform at the stern, three guest cabins with en-suite bathrooms, the engine room, laundry facilities, and crew’s quarters. There were two storage rooms that opened out onto a platform in the back of the ship with jet skis, water toys and lifeboats.

The
ship was fully staffed with a captain, three deck hands, a chef, a maid and a Steward, which Creighton said was very much like a butler. It was a beautiful vessel, much larger than it looked from the pier and he was extremely proud of it as he explained the reason why.

“When
I bought this yacht about five years ago, she was extremely misused,” he explained with a smile when they walked back toward the parlor. “She had belonged to a group of drug smugglers. The coast guard took control of her and used it for several years before putting her up for auction, that’s when I found her. I spent over three years restoring her from the hull up, with as much refurbished items as I could find. The things I couldn’t find, I had specially made, like the railings and the upper deck planks. The bathrooms are eco-friendly and the kitchen uses natural gas rather than electricity. If you’ll notice those panels,” he said pointing up to the black sheets of what appeared to be large plastic windows, hanging over the upper deck, the main deck and the outdoor dining area. “Those are solar panels, so the ship actually runs off the energy of the sun. The power is stored in cells below deck and she can easily run for ten hours during good weather with nearly every device and appliance operating at once.”

“What
if the sun isn’t out, say it’s raining or cloudy? How do you get back to port then?” she asked, transfixed by the excitement in his eyes.

“She
has a normal backup battery, though I’ve never had to use it. There is always some sunshine to warm up the cells. However, if it means anchoring somewhere off port until a storm blows over then I just hope I have a very beautiful green-eyed girl with incredible legs to keep me company until it does.” She blushed again and watched the expression change from the excited little boy, to a charming man with perfect white teeth.

“Maybe
we should eat now?” she asked and he looked at his watch.

“Why
don’t we pull anchor and head out? We can eat on deck while we’re sightseeing.” It was her turn to smile like an excited child and she followed him back into the parlor, where he picked up a phone and called the captain, instructing him to head out of port. They sat on the L-shaped sofa and sipped on their wine from earlier as the ship’s engines roared to life and began to pull slowly out of dock.

“Why
do you call your boat a
she
?” Sandra asked to break the silence. Creighton looked at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

“It’s
a yacht not a boat and all machines are referred to as female.”

“But
why?”

“Because
they are beautiful, strong and hardworking and when they decide they need attention; they are very temperamental, just like a woman.”

“Not
all women are temperamental,” she argued with another blush while he laughed openly at her comment.

“Yes
they are. Just now, you proved it. You were offended that I call my yacht a female, and earlier you were irritated and thought I had insulted you when I assumed you were a model. All I need to do to make you purr is pay extra attention to you and make you realize I don’t intend to deliberately drive you the wrong way; just like a machine.”

“I
don’t know how to take that.” She frowned while she considered his explanation, causing him to laugh again as he leaned over and kissed her cheek, lingering slightly longer than she assumed he would.

“Don’t
over think it; just accept it as a compliment. I appreciate women and their incredible strength and intelligence far more than their beauty. I just consider myself lucky that you are both brilliant and gorgeous.”

Sandra
blushed again but said nothing as the ship continued to hum through the dark Mediterranean Sea. She had never imagined a day quite like this in all her life, in all her fantasies or daydreams. In less than twenty-four hours, she had met the most handsome man she could have ever dreamed of; she had been shown a wonderful afternoon of diving in the Mediterranean Sea and now having a romantic dinner under the stars on board a private yacht off the shores of the French Riviera. Somebody had better pinch her awfully damned quick; she thought, or she may just want to stay in this dream the rest of her life.

The
alarm on the bedside table began to beep much louder than it had seemed the day before. Sandra reached over and shut it off, her head buried under her pillow as she stretched her arms above her head and groaned. Memories of last night began to filter through her mind and she smiled happily, reliving them for the millionth time since returning to her hotel room. Creighton was a thousand dreams come true; a true gentleman, the magnificent lover she had always read about, fantasized about, always dreamed of meeting. They ate the most delicious supper of
pasta e fagioli
and
linguini with clam sauce
. They lounged in plush cushioned chairs on the upper deck sipping
double caramel cappuccinos
while enjoying a soft piano concerto that echoed through the ship from the expensive stereo system. Creighton returned her to the hotel shortly after three o’clock this morning, kissed her gently on the cheek and made certain she was locked inside her room before leaving with the promise of seeing her today.