Kabe laughed. ‘Want to join me?’
Crikey, Belle really, really wanted to. ‘Um …’ She was lost for words, and when she found her voice, she stuttered, ‘Oh hell … um no?’
Kabe stopped what he was doing. ‘You’re not sure?’
‘Yes—yes, I’m sure.’ She waved for him to stop asking.
‘Well, you’ve seen me now,’ he teased, ‘so I guess it’d be pointless to get me a towel, for modesty’s sake.’
‘No it wouldn’t!’ she said, eager to move away. ‘I’ll go get one,’ Belle insisted.
Even as her mind hollered, Go, she turned to peek over her shoulder. She met his eyes and he grinned at her while he grabbed his shorts off the deck. What was the matter with her? She should never have done that.
Oh God, his front was even more impressive than his back.
Bare feet slapped on the wet deck as he came towards her. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, amused, ‘I’m decent. You can turn around now.’
But Belle didn’t dare. Gripping the helm, she stared out past the stern, into the blackness.
‘Ahh—that was great,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing like rinsing off crusty sea salt under a downpour of sweet rain.’ He paused. ‘You should do the same before you turn in … for comfort’s sake.’
‘Another time perhaps,’ Belle managed to say.
‘Suit yourself. Excuse me.’
Belle held her breath as Kabe squeezed past; his body brushed against her back and bottom, then his large frame eased through the hatch. His hands squeaked as they slid down the railing then his feet thumped on the deck below, and she let go a heavy, relieved sigh.
He called up from below, ‘You can turn around now,’ the humour in his voice unmistakable.
She stood on the deck wondering what to do with herself. As if reading her mind, he called up, ‘There’s a shower down here if you need privacy! But hey, you’re safe, I’m no Peeping Tom, honest.’
Ooh, that wasn’t … I wasn’t … Belle thought, then yelled back down the open hatch. ‘Neither am I, if that’s what you’re implying. You didn’t warn me! I came up to see that you weren’t lying face down in the water turning an unattractive shade of blue! And …’ the image renewed itself in her mind, ‘there you were!’ She sighed, silently adding, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you.
Belle heard him laugh, even over the rain.
‘I’m sorry I took longer than expected, didn’t mean to worry you,’ he said. ‘Look, please yourself. I’m going to rustle up some food, I’m starving.’
‘Yes,’ Belle muttered to herself, ‘I was worried about you.’
She was sweaty and itchy under the plastic raincoat. Oh what the heck, this is horrible. Get naked and get wet.
She fumbled and struggled to get his borrowed clothes off, while keeping the yellow raincoat draped over her shoulders, then called down to him, ‘Excuse me!’
*
Knife in one hand, carrot in the other, Kabe stepped away from the galley and looked up through the hatch. ‘Yeah?’ he said.
Belle stooped over to look down at him, clutching the raincoat tightly around her. He held back on a chuckle, and then she called out, ‘Catch,’ and threw him the borrowed clothes.
‘Oh I see,’ he said, then mumbled, ‘That’s a first, a woman throwing clothes at me.’ He stared at the bundle sitting in a puddle of water at the bottom of the steps. ‘Okay, naked under the raincoat,’ popped out of his mouth. ‘Shit,’ he grated and glanced up to see if she was still there and had heard him. Not there, good. He turned back to his cooking. ‘Do not freak the girl out,’ he told himself.
Kabe was no fool, he figured Belle would’ve heard about his ‘lifestyle’. He wondered whether it mattered to her … whether he mattered to her … even a little. Time would tell, but in the meantime, he would be attentive and thoughtful. Belle Fabrini deserved nothing less. She’d been through a scary, heart-stopping rescue and hopefully had no idea how close he had come to losing the fight to get her on board. Goose bumps covered his body, and he shuddered. Fists strangling the knife and carrot, jaw tight, he determined to dismiss images of Belle dangling from his grip over the black, unforgiving sea. It kind of worked.
Opening his hands to flex them, he let go of the carrot and knife and went to get a dry towel for Belle. He slung it over his shoulder, went up the companionway and hung it under the yacht’s canopy. Reflecting on how everything had worked out settled his thoughts. Belle was safe up on his deck showering under a tropical downpour … naked.
Yeah, mate, hold that thought.
*
Except for, ‘Oh, I see,’ Belle hadn’t understood the rest of the mutterings that came from below.
But realisation hit and her body flushed with heat all the way up her neck and into her face. ‘Shit!’ Belle mumbled, hunching over as she clutched the God-awful raincoat tighter around her, suddenly aware she’d innocently given him a veiled message that she was naked. ‘Bloody hell!’
Was this a problem? She peered down the partially closed hatch; he was no longer there. Damn. A voice in her head piped up, Come on, you’re so ready to be ravished by this hot sailor-man, Kabe Hunter.
Tingling with the risk of discovery, she hurried to the prow and hastily slipped the coat off. The cool rain pelted down, dancing on her skin. ‘Oh my God, he’s right,’ she sighed. Tilting her face up, she let the rain splatter over her forehead, onto her closed eyelids and into her open mouth. Running her hands through her hair and over her body, she rinsed the salt off.
Belle held the raincoat in front of her like a shield and headed for the cockpit. She was about to put it on when she noticed a big beach towel hanging under the canopy.
He’s been up here. Oh my God, did he see me naked under a big glaring light?
Kabe called up from below, ‘I left a dry towel up there for you; leave the raincoat hanging where the towel was.’
Okay, seems he was just being thoughtful. Towel wrapped firmly around her, Belle edged into the open hatch, closing it behind her.
Her feet landed on another large towel that Kabe had spread on the floor to soak up the puddles.
He turned to face her wearing nothing more than a smile and a damp towel slung low around his narrow hips. As she’d already seen all of him, she knew what the impressive bump below his navel signified.
Thank God for the towel … or maybe not.
This was weird, she felt weird standing in the confined space, both of them almost naked.
He gave her a knowing, quirky grin, put the spoon he had in his hands on the galley bench and came closer. ‘Let me see your ribs.’
‘I just had a look and they’re fine,’ she lied.
‘Let me see.’ The determined look on his face made her step back. He sighed. ‘I’ll spell it out for you. We’re stuck on an island, and with all that implies, I have to know the condition of your ribs.’
‘You’re joking?’ Chin down, eyes serious, he shook his head. ‘Fine.’ Clutching each end of her towel with one hand, Belle let it sag loosely down her back and with her free hand gathered the towel away from her side.
Kabe bent down for closer inspection. ‘That’s not too bad, there’s a red welt. The way you thumped the deck, I thought it’d be much worse. Your life jacket protected you—good.’ He moved away and opened a locker to the right of the galley, pulled out the first-aid kit and placed it on the saloon table next to her. He unclipped the lid, rummaged through the kit and pulled out a tube of arnica cream.
Among the bandages, pills and ointments were shiny packets of condoms. She guessed tourists didn’t always come equipped, but Kabe was. She told herself not to go there. An exciting thought occurred. Did she dare? Suddenly the cabin was too small, too stuffy. Belle was hot, wanted to drop the towel and …
‘I don’t know if this stuff works,’ Kabe murmured, ‘but there’s no harm in dabbing some on. I’ll be as gentle as I can.’ His fingers hovered over her ribs. ‘Are you okay, or is this worse than
it looks?’
‘I’m fine. When you’re done I’ll have a glass of water.’
The moment his fingers touched her skin, she flinched.
Bugger.
He jerked his hand away and looked up. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘Um … cold fingers,’ she muttered, wanting to hide that his soft touch had made her draw in a slow, needy breath.
She caught his knowing grin.
Yeah, she could see he wasn’t fooled, but he played her game and rubbed his hands together.
‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling down at him.
He carefully spread the cream over Belle’s ribs. She held still, determined not to flinch again. She turned her head to watch, but all she saw was the top of his curly head and massive shoulders. Her hands itched to touch him, feel his skin.
This up close and personal moment had to end.
Oh God, did he just … ? Yes, he did, he gently blew over her skin.
‘Better?’ Kabe asked.
Belle gripped her towel and swallowed before she did something they would both enjoy, but something she was too self-conscious to dare mention.
‘That’s great,’ she said, and started to pull the towel back up. He seemed reluctant to move away. When he finally did, she gave him a wobbly smile and said, ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Kabe said, the playful bad-boy light in his eyes gone now. Instead his eyes looked heated, intense; coupled with a muscle that flicked above his jaw, his whole demeanour made her knees weak. ‘Get dressed,’ he told her, voice husky, before quickly moving back to the galley, hands clenching and unclenching as he went.
Chapter 3
Belle couldn’t get her feet moving; Kabe’s body language had hijacked her brain. His torso flexed and what was that hand-clenching all about? His masculinity filled the limited cabin space, making her tingle all over. Kabe turned to look at Belle over his shoulder. Their eyes locked, and at that moment, she knew, he was aware of her sexual attraction towards him. His eyes darkened, but with a smile that caused her heart to skip.
What was he thinking?
‘Refreshing to rinse naked under the rain … isn’t it?’ he murmured, eyes twinkling suggestively.
Determined to play it cool, Belle answered, ‘Yes, wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’ She wondered where this conversation was heading.
He sent her a provocative, playful smile. ‘You need help getting dressed?’ His look filled her with an urge that made her body quiver … some parts a little more so. She squeezed her thighs together, which didn’t help. ‘Um … I’ll just go change,’ she said, nervously waving her hand in the general direction of her cabin, as if he didn’t know where it was.
‘There are dry clothes and a towel on your bunk,’ he said, indicating her cabin with sideways nod.
Okay, seems I’m not the only one who needs to get a grip. Arm waving, nodding. Where will all this lead? Feeling a little unhinged, Belle closed the door behind her. Bloody hell, he oozed sex and, to her shock, she wanted some. She caught sight of herself in a mirror attached to the small closet, and muttered, ‘I look like I’ve been through the rinse cycle at the car wash.’ She rummaged through her backpack, pulled out her moisturiser and slapped some on her face. After drying her body, she slipped on the set of clothes waiting for her on the bunk bed. The T-shirt stopped mid-thigh and his shorts needed holding up or they would fall in a puddle around her feet, which would leave her bare-arsed. With her hair wrapped in a towel, turban style, Belle pulled herself together and ventured out of her cabin.
‘Thanks for the clothes,’ she said, gripping the shorts waistband. ‘I would’ve been just as happy wearing the ones I threw down earlier … through the hatch …’ She babbled like a twit and wondered why; after all, she worked with male builders and designers, ninety percent of them narrow-minded and full of their own importance, especially when dealing with women. Like they were the only ones who could envisage size and space and draft a house plan.
‘You didn’t give me time to catch them, they’re soaked. I threw them in the bathroom.’ He frowned, grinned and shook his head all at the same time. ‘Sorry, tourists don’t know the bathroom on a vessel is the “head”.’
‘Oh … I didn’t realise I’d done that to your clothes,’ she mumbled.
‘Not a problem,’ he said, then turned to toss the salad and check the oven.
Belle hadn’t realised how hungry she was until the delicious smell of fresh, hot bread drifted through the cabin. ‘Can I help?’ she offered. Not that it looked like he needed it. She gazed at his easy relaxed movements while, back turned, head down, he chopped, sliced or did whatever the hell he was doing, because she couldn’t see past his broad shoulders.
He swung around, paused, gave her a meaningful look. ‘No thanks.’ He cracked another smile. ‘I have everything under control.’
A shiver went straight through to Belle’s core. Help!
‘Take a seat,’ he said, a touch of tenderness seeping into his voice. ‘You’ve had a rough afternoon.’
Belle moved to the bench seat that curved around a small table opposite the galley. She pulled the enormous T-shirt out of the way, shoving it between her legs as she sat. Her gaze went to the galley, eyes feasting on the damp towel that dipped low around his narrow hips, hugging his well-defined rear. Her hands knew exactly what that bum felt like: firm, rounded, squeezable. She gave herself a mental slap, but it did no good at all, she wanted to sink her fingers into his delectable flesh. He’d towel dried his hair, but hadn’t bothered to comb it. Her hands itched to feel every part of him, including his tousled soft curls. Had he homed in on her thoughts? Something made him turn around and fix his eyes on hers. The corners of his mouth eased up into that relaxed but devastating smile.
Feeling on edge, Belle cleared her throat, and she felt her return smile flutter at the corners. He seemed pleased with her reaction and went on with his cooking. She sighed, lacing and unlacing her fingers. It was going to be a long night.
‘Hope you don’t mind, but you’ll have to put up with me in a towel,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ve run out of dry clothes.’
‘Sorry, didn’t mean for you to go …’ She almost said, Naked?
He turned and, leaning over the galley bench, his deep voice a heady turn-on, he murmured, ‘Your eyes are amazing.’
Good thing she was sitting, otherwise her knees would’ve given way. Quick—smile before he asks why you’re staring at him—with your mouth open! She pressed her lips together.
Elbow on the kitchen bench, chin in his hands, his gaze didn’t waver.
‘Stop it, you’re making me uncomfortable,’ she mumbled, which wasn’t entirely true. It was more like—holy crap, really?
‘Sorry,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘didn’t mean to do that, but the colour is unusual. Like amber, and when the light catches your eyes, they glisten. I never noticed that about you in high school. Probably didn’t get close enough … probably should’ve.’ Bemused, he shook his head again.
‘You never noticed me at all.’ She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. However, a kernel of teenage pain remained. Right now, it threatened to grow out of all proportion, even though Kabe hadn’t done anything wrong. She recalled he was a gangly, withdrawn, shy guy, one of those teenagers that looked at you from the cover of their hair, but there was something about him that called to her young emotions. And right here, right now in this confined space, she occasionally saw a flash of that young vulnerable Kabe.
He gave a short, sharp chuckle. ‘There was a lot I didn’t notice.’
Belle didn’t miss a tightness that pinched his face and made a muscle flex above his jaw. She’d studied people long enough to know that he was getting a memory, and it seemed an emotional one, under control.
‘Didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. How about a glass of wine to celebrate our lucky escape? You look as if you need it.’
‘Thanks, I’d like that.’ She gla
nced around his richly-appointed yacht when her eyes caught sight of clothes hanging to dry at the far end of the main cabin—hers included.
Kabe Hunter has wrung out my underwear! Her mind reeled. They weren’t even the most attractive ones she had and now they were dangling next to his shorts. Oh God, why hadn’t she worn the lacy ones Lexie bought her for Christmas? With a thud, her forehead hit the table. She really felt like burying her head in her lap until it was all over and she was home. She heard Kabe move closer, felt his body heat at her side.
‘What’s up, are you okay?’ Kabe asked. ‘Belle?’ His gentle hands were at her nape. Every muscle tensed as he tugged the towel away from around her head, and then using his fingers he ruffled out her hair. ‘That’s got to feel better.’
Oh sure, every girl wants a hot guy to see her with her hair every which way and with her forehead on the table, even better. ‘I’m fine,’ she mumbled into the timber tabletop. ‘It’s just that …’
‘What?’ he whispered, lifting her hair so he could see her face.
‘You wrung out my underwear.’
She felt him move away, but only slightly.
‘So I did,’ he pointed out calmly as if it were a normal everyday thing.
Belle forced herself to look up. She met his laughing eyes barely inches from hers and lost herself in their dark blue pools. She swallowed down the urge to kiss him. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, and gave him a cheesy grin.
He straightened and his gaze moved to the back of his shorts that she was wearing. ‘These are definitely my favourite shorts.’
Belle’s hand flew to the small of her back and she realised the shorts were gaping and he’d seen a great expanse of her bottom. She grabbed the T-shirt’s hem and pulled it down all around herself, but now it drifted off one shoulder … she just couldn’t win.
Fighting a grin, he placed a glass of sparkling wine in front of her and raised another for a toast. ‘To fair weather and smooth sailing. We should be back in Luna Bay tomorrow and you’ll be able to speak to your parents, and Lexie.’ He paused, and rubbed his neck. ‘Is she still the same opinionated, pushy, I’ll-do-it-my-way-if-it–kills-me girl?’
I'Ve Got You Page 3