The Frenchman's Bride

by Imani King

  It wasn’t long before everything pulled away from sight, and Blaine’s strong hand clasped around my shoulder.

  “I think it is time that we went back downstairs,” he whispered in my ear. With the closeness of his lips, his breath lightly rolling over my ear, I felt a spark of something inside…

  “Y, yes, I think so,” I stammered quietly.

  Blaine pulled back, but not before I spotted a small smirk on his lips. He extended his arm; I took it, and the stewardess followed us down from the first deck.

  “So, what would you like to do first on our merry little adventure? We’ve got plenty of options…”

  “Got anything in mind?” I asked, trying to ignore that we were now on the open sea, with only these walls defending us from the impartiality of the ocean.

  Blaine gave me a sly look. “As much of a dynamic go-getter as you seem to be, I’m surprised that you don’t already have some ideas…but sure, let me think…you’re not hungry, are you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, in that case…why don’t we take ourselves a dip in the pool? Barely a cloud in the sky here, and I’ve been itching to swim for a few days…”

  “That sounds great, actually,” I nodded.

  While we wandered across the deck and descended down the atrium stairs, I took the opportunity to glance over his astounding art collection again. For such a public playboy, I was impressed that he had the taste for such impressive work. If anything, I would have expected scantily clad women to adorn the canvases…

  As we arrived at the guest quarters, Blaine turned to his stewardess. I’d almost forgotten that she was even there, as quietly as she followed up.

  “Olivia, that will be all for the moment.”

  “Yes, Mister Winguard.”

  She nodded, gave me a polite bow, and then departed off for another section of the ship.

  “Is she just here to take care of your every needs?” I asked, tilting my head as I watched her disappear.

  “Most of them,” he agreed. “She is a fascinating little minx, and highly attentive. Olivia is an utmost professional, and I couldn’t ask for a better caretaker. She does an extraordinary job.”

  “You sound like you quite like her,” I objectively observed. “Do her methods of caring for you take…a different role?”

  Blaine blinked a few times, and then laughed. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

  “No, not at all,” I told him defiantly, although a small part of me had to acknowledge that there was a tiny sliver of truth to his otherwise preposterous claim.

  “Well, I’ll let you know now that Olivia does not tend to any physical needs of mine, no,” he answered with a peering smile. “Our relationship is not only strictly business, but strictly moral as well. I wouldn’t ask that of her, and she’d never accept that position anyway…pun intended.”

  “Gotcha,” I answered, feigning aloofness. But I knew that he could see right through that. I pulled out my phone for a moment, hoping to check for any texts…when I realized I didn’t have any signal.

  “Wait a minute. Blaine. Where’s your Wi-Fi?”

  “My wireless?” He looked amused for a second. “There’s no wireless on this ship…we’re cut off from the world.”

  “Wait. That can’t be. I’ve got to check in with my mother from time to time…tell me that there’s a way for me to reach her.”

  “I’m afraid not,” he shrugged. “It’s just us. But if that’s a problem, and you want to cancel, I can talk to the bridge and have them swing back around and drop you off…but I’d have to reclaim the money I dropped into your account…”

  “No, wait a second,” I told him. “It’s not the money. I just – I don’t think I can turn this down.” I indicated the ship around us. “I’m going to be so much in trouble…”

  “Worry about it when you arrive in Cannes,” Blaine whispered into my ear.

  I felt a little jolt in my spine, and I swallowed.

  “Right,” Blaine continued, pulling back with a little smirk on his face. “Well, why don’t you get changed? Grab a beach towel, you’ll have some lined out in your attached bathroom, and meet me on the third deck through the back. We have a recreational area there.”

  “Alright,” I answered. “See you there in a few.”

  He smiled again and wandered away, walking down the corridor. I slid the door shut between us and questioned why I was suddenly heated just being near him.

  Half an hour later, I was strolling back out into the sun. With my flip-flops flapping away at the floor, I wandered out under the open ceiling towards the large, luxurious pool. As I left the shade, I could see that the swimming pool was huge – a large, corner-shaped design that was surrounded by an array of sunbathing chairs, end tables boasting large and colorful umbrellas, and a few smaller Jacuzzis in the corners.

  As I walked along the edge in my swimming outfit – a cute, red two-piece that I’d always loved, which accentuated my curves – I noted the depth marking tiles that were set into the edges, just below the lip of the floor above the water. It appeared that this pool was a standard design, just larger – and it stretched from three feet in the distance, wrapping around the elbow and down to twelve at the opposite end.

  Where the missing chunk of pool would go was a small stage, raised up with a covered outdoor kitchen area. I spotted a number of expensive-looking chrome grills, built into the stone counters.

  This place was built to entertain way more than it could comfortably house – which meant that the mega yacht probably saw more activity hosting lavish dockside parties than actually sailing across the seas.

  Blaine had beaten me out here, and was swimming a few laps across the pool. With a pair of dark blue goggles on, and a matching pair of swim trunks, his arms were carving across the water as he paced backwards and forwards at a steady, swift pace.

  I laid my towel out over a beach chair and reclined it backwards, lying down to observe him. His movements accentuated his cut, sculpted arms as they dove, one after another, through the rippling water. His legs kicked out from behind in a regulated, powerful flurry, and his face was constantly turning from side to side.

  I knew how to swim, but I hadn’t had many opportunities to do it while growing up. It was fun to watch him show me how someone in peak physical condition did it.

  And what condition that peak was. When he paused for a while, stepping out of the water atop the nearby staircase, his rippling abs were on full display – sharp enough to slice Thanksgiving dinner. His shoulders were broad and muscular, and his skin was taut across his defined, sculpted form.

  There wasn’t an ounce of visible fat across his entire body.

  But what drew my attention was the way that he trunks clutched onto his rock-hard thighs…and blatantly put his large cock on display. Even flaccid, it looked like he was packing a serious weapon in those shorts, and I could barely keep my eyes off of it…

  Good thing that I was wearing sunglasses.

  “Come on in!” Blaine chuckled, snatching his own towel off a table and wiping the dripping water off of his body. “The water’s great!”

  “Nah, I’m good right here for now,” I answered.

  “You sure? I tell you, nothing quite refreshing like a strong swim! Gets the blood pumping!”

  “I’ll think about it,” I replied coolly, crossing my arms.

  “Oh well. Suit yourself!”

  He strutted back over to the table and seized a bottle of water, gulping down two-thirds of it right there and then. After wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he set it back down and hopped back into the pool, ready for a few fresh laps.

  I couldn’t help but notice my heavy breathing as he cleanly cut across the water, his limbs powerfully but gracefully propelling him across the pool. I’d never seen him with most of his clothes off, not even in any tabloid pictures, and I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander back to that dream…

  He climbed back out a short while
later, and I was only partially aware that I had been rubbing myself between my thighs with a few fingers. Quickly and discreetly moving my hand away and casually straightening out, I noticed him look over my way with what looked like brief amusement.

  “I’m telling you, way more fun in the water,” he chuckled.

  “Maybe in a few minutes.”

  He shrugged, finished off the water, then ducked back in again. Soon, he was pushing another lap across the water, although he must have been tiring out, because his pace was visibly slower – although still faster than I could ever do.

  That was a close one, I thought to myself. I was being far too careless there, letting my thoughts drift away…

  I stepped up from the beach chair, pulling my glasses free. Wading slowly into the water, I noticed that he hadn’t been wrong – the water wasn’t crazy hot, but it was still warmer than it should have been, even in direct sunlight.

  As I waded further in, I felt an underwater burst of hot water brush against my shin. Heat jets. Probably all over this thing…yeah, that makes sense, I thought to myself.

  Pushing forward, I felt the water resistance press against my thighs and shins. I always loved the sensation of water parting around my limbs when I swam – as a small child, I was mostly able to cling to this sensation by shifting around in the bathtub.

  It was interesting to be reminded of that. I hadn’t thought about it in years…and then, Blaine paused during a lap, standing up near me, and he flicked up his goggles and gave me his mischievous grin.

  He looked so utterly handsome.

  When I realized how wet I was – and not from the pool – I discovered, my eyes clearly groping that carved, chiseled body of his, that I was in some serious trouble.

  11

  Blaine

  * * *

  I realized quickly that I had made something of a miscalculation in this entire little fiasco.

  It was incredibly hard to ignore Sierra’s allure.

  Without meaning to, she drew my attention with the slightest gestures. I’d barely been able to keep my eyes off of her when we were up on the roof, although I was coy with it. And when she observed my art, I allowed my eyes to trail over her body, just in brief moments of crippled willpower.

  When she stood there in the pool, dripping with water, I wanted to take her right there and then.

  No, I kept trying to remind myself.

  You can’t force yourself on her.

  And you know you can’t be with her.

  But the innocent look in her eyes, and the simply, invigorating appeal of her curves, inspired such a tremendous response in my mind. I wanted to taste her tongue, to rip her clothes off and explore her body with my lips. My fingertips thrummed with the need to grasp into her supple flesh, to dive deep into that prize between her thighs…

  And I realized too slowly that this had inspired another, very different kind of reaction from me as well.

  “You, uh…” Sierra stammered before turning away.

  I glanced down, and discovered the error. My own prize had hardened into a rod of galvanized steel, ready to claim and penetrate. It was almost painfully swollen against my trunks, and I quickly spun around and moved the erection to less conspicuous placement.

  “I am, um, sorry about that,” I nonchalantly replied.

  “Did I turn you on?” She asked over her shoulder, unwilling to turn around, but the tone of her voice told me that she was hanging onto whatever my response might be.

  The blood flow to my cock was threatening to force me to answer very dangerously…

  “I’m in a near-constant state of arousal,” I answered. “Probably why I wind up in so many scandals. Sorry that you had to see that, but don’t worry…you’re safe with me. I won’t lay a hand on you.”

  With that, I pushed towards the side of the pool, pressing my palms down against the floor. Pulling myself up and out, I grabbed my towel and began to dry myself off.

  Sierra was still standing in the pool, her gaze off in the distance. She looked pensive for a moment, but I reluctantly ripped my gaze free. Don’t go pretending you can do this, I chastised myself. You can’t hurt her.

  Once I wasn’t dripping wet, I tossed the towel around my neck and dispensed of the bottle with the nearby bin. “Are you going to stay out here, or are you coming in?” I asked my guest, standing near the edge of the pool.

  “I think I’ll stay out here for a little bit.”

  “Very well then. I’ll be inside, grabbing a quick bite. I’ll be in my study after that.”

  “Alright then.”

  Despite wanting to dive back into the water and determine what suddenly had her feeling morose, I turned on my heel and walked back for the entrance.

  You made a promise, I reminded myself.

  And you’re going to have to keep your hands off…

  Sierra was surprisingly scarce for the remainder of the day, and I allowed her to have her space.

  The swimming had given me an appetite, so I instructed one of my kitchen workers to whip up a grilled chicken and Swiss burger for me, with a dollop of honey mustard, sliced bell pepper, and a few jalapenos. I enjoyed it with a side of pepper-encrusted fries in the dining room, while Olivia stood nearby and attentively refilled my glass of sparkling water.

  After my meal, I retired to the study, where I decided to poke open a crime thriller. Lounging in my large, comfortable chair, I breezed through about a hundred pages before I realized that I hadn’t heard anything about my guest.

  Setting the book down, I checked with a few of the local crew. The general consensus was that they hadn’t seen her, although one of the kitchen workers eventually piped up – she had returned to her room.

  I figured that Sierra needed time to unpack, so I left her to it and continued on with my way.

  By now, the afternoon sun was beginning to set. I strolled along the outer deck, taking the scenic way towards the bridge, and I watched the waves as they rolled past. I always had a healthy respect for the ocean, and its endless, surreal landscape of impossible depths – water so deep that light could never touch it.

  As I walked along, running my hand along the rail, I kept my eyes peeled across the expanse – hoping to see some sign of activity out there, among the waves.

  But it was just myself here, alone.

  Just like always.

  I was able to track Jensen down near the bridge, and asked him for an update on our speed and conditions.

  “We’re averagin’ about 12, maybe 14 knots, sir,” the crusty old sailor informed me. “Water’s smooth. Wind’s in our favor, it is. Knock on wood,” he quickly tapped on a nearby panel, “we’ll be crestin’ in France in maybe a day early. When’s this festival of yours?”

  “It starts in a bit over a week,” I replied.

  “What? A bit over a week? You’re cuttin’ it close there, don’t ya think? If the winds change, it could take us easily twice the time I just told ya! Only way to be sure would have been to leave two weeks in advance!”

  “It’s a long festival.” My voice was cold but authoritative.

  “Well…either way, I hope to get the two of you there in time. So far, so good. I’ll push her a little harder and keep you updated as we go on.”

  “See that you do. And thank you, Jensen.”

  “It’s what ya pay me for.”

  I left him to continue his work and strolled back around the outer decks, ambling with the general aim of the guest quarters down below.

  Sierra had kept herself away for more than enough time now, and I wanted the presence of my companion nearby…even if I would have to restrain myself near her. After all, the lowering sun was casting a beautiful glow over the water, and I couldn’t let her miss that beautiful sight.

  I discovered her quickly, finding her looking at my art in the atrium again. It was interesting, how much she enjoyed it. For a moment, I reconsidered bothering her…but that view was too good, and so I descended the staircase towards her.<
br />
  “There’s better artwork outside for you to see,” I whispered into her ear. She all but visibly jumped, and cast a startled glance my way.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I lied.

  “No, it’s just…okay. You said something about better artwork? Better than this?”

  “Join me,” I replied, taking her hand. I half-expected her to wrench it free, but she followed behind, her fingers clasped around mine. We ascended back up the stairs, and I pushed open the door to reveal the beautiful array of twilight shades, painting the endless sky and the open water.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered in hushed breath.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” I replied.

  “Isn’t it just…”

  We walked towards the rail and leaned our forearms over it, bending slightly over the wall. The sun continued to illuminate our small sliver of the world, its beautiful, fiery exhibition of color far more beautiful than any piece of fine art I could ever buy.

  Sierra was more comfortable around me now, and we shared a bottle of champagne in the covered rooftop Jacuzzi after a delicious dinner of fresh seafood.

  “This is incredible,” she murmured softly.

  “I aim to please.”

  “No, but seriously,” she continued, gesturing generally towards the ship. “Even just today, I’ve seen experienced things. Beautiful things. Things that other people can barely dream of. And it’s all thanks to you, Blaine.”

  “I’m happy that you’re pleased,” I replied, taking another swig from my glass. “And I’m delighted that you decided to join me here, after all. This might have been horribly lonely without someone to properly share it with.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” she smiled radiantly, “but I’m still not sure why you chose me, of all people… I’m sure Discreet Encounters had plenty to choose from…”

  “Consider it a hunch,” I answered. “I just had a good feeling that we’d enjoy each other’s company together.”

  This was not technically incorrect.