Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
She stammered, “Ye-yes. I can do that.”
Pushing herself out of the seat, she wanted to run as fast as possible to Captain Sprague and tell him to turn around. To turn tail and run.
But Troy wasn’t finished. “I’d like the sale to go through as soon as possible. Cal and Lyssa have talked about a romantic wedding on a boat. I’d like them to be able to use mine.”
Oh. He wasn’t trying to seduce her with the sale. He had another plan in mind.
Other than bringing the buyer and seller together, she wasn’t part of that plan. She stood stiffly before him. “I’ll contact the seller as soon as we get back.”
Then she dashed off, ostensibly to tell the steward they needed to head in, but maybe she was distancing herself from Troy.
From that kiss.
And from her feelings.
Chapter Twelve
Troy put his fingers to his lips. He could still taste her. So sweet beyond the whipped cream and cheesecake. It was her. Every kiss with her would be sweet. He wanted to hold her in his arms, mold her body to his, let her feel exactly what she did to him.
He wanted to taste her everywhere.
Aching to grab her hand before she got away, he wanted to ask, Are you going to tell me that wasn’t the best kiss of your entire life? Because it certainly was for me.
Even as he watched her walk away, the words reverberated in his head as if he’d said them aloud.
And yet he held back. Michaela Killian was a hard sell. But no, that made her sound like a stubborn supplier giving him a rough time. Michaela simply had a hard shell. But he was also certain she would be so soft on the inside.
The yacht was now coming about in a wide arc.
The truth was obvious. If he pushed Michaela too hard, she’d run away. Just as she had today. Even if they were on a yacht, and he could easily find her.
He could make her admit how perfect that kiss had been. The most amazing of his life.
But his gut told him how badly that would go. The more he pushed, the more roadblocks she’d throw up in his face.
This was only their second date—even if she wouldn’t admit that either the dinner after the book signing or this cruise was a date—and there would be more. More non-dates, if that’s what she wanted to call them.
He would make certain of it.
Troy had followed her to her car, tried to give her the rest of the cheesecakes. “I’m sure your mother would enjoy them.”
That made Michaela want to smack something. Her mother the traitor.
Stuck in commuter traffic because the cruise had lasted longer than she’d intended, she fumed all the way home. Commute time through the city started even earlier than on the Peninsula.
When she got home, her mother was working her needlepoint on the couch, but Michaela was sure that was a gleam in her eye.
“How was the date, dear?”
Michaela answered in clipped tones, “It wasn’t a date. It was a sales trip. Troy Harrington wanted to see the yacht and take a cruise. And,” she snapped, “he bought the boat. It’s a great commission for me.”
She suddenly hated that she’d snapped at her mother. She never did that. Flo was her rock. They’d made their way out of Modesto together. If she thought about it, they’d grown up together, because her mother had been so young when Michaela was born. But she had to be firm. “Please don’t tell Troy anything else about me, even my favorite foods.”
Flo laughed. “But wasn’t a picnic on a boat so romantic?”
Now she understood that gleam in her mother’s eyes. It wasn’t just a twinkle of stars. It was a riot of hearts.
Be firm, Michaela. “My dealings with him are just business. They’re not dates.”
Now all the damned hearts seemed to be flying right out of her mother’s eyes. She didn’t believe Michaela.
Under any other circumstances, with any other man, she would have told Flo about that kiss. How sensual it had been, how spicy-sweet he’d tasted. She couldn’t even say the wine had gone to her head, because it hadn’t.
But with all those hearts and butterflies flying around the room, she couldn’t tell her mother a thing.
And tonight, she would dream about that kiss.
Troy couldn’t be sure if yesterday’s cruise had been a success or not.
There’d been that exquisite kiss, but then Michaela immediately claimed it was a mistake. And she’d had the captain head back to the marina.
That kiss. He’d relived it in his dreams last night—the taste of her, the feel of her skin beneath his palms, the delicious scent of her arousal.
Oh yeah, that kiss had been a total success. But getting her to see they needed to be together? Not so much. Maybe the cruise and picnic had been a complete failure.