The Ruthless Gentleman

by Louise Bay

  He didn’t say anything but continued to look at me with his dark blue eyes after I finished speaking. “I’ll take a look,” he replied eventually.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on. I just—”

  “I’ll take a look.” He was done talking.

  “Thank you.” I headed back to the main salon. It wasn’t a promise, but maybe he’d come up with something and at least I had today’s menu for Neill.

  “Avery.”

  I turned back to face him.

  He didn’t look up from his laptop. “I’d like to deal with you as much as possible, exclusively, in fact.”

  I didn’t let my smile drop as heat stirred in my belly. He wanted more time with me? Or did he not like Skylar and August?

  “It might make things easier. I don’t want to have to fend off small talk from other crew.”

  I nodded. Of course that was it. It wasn’t personal. Just that I was more senior and better able to swallow the thousand questions I wanted to ask him. How had he made his money so young? What had he done to create enemies? What was his family like? Did he have a wife? I could hold back—I’d make sure I did—but I wasn’t so sure about August, so his request made sense. I hoped it at least meant he thought I was good at my job.

  “No problem,” I replied. “I need to clean your room, if that’s okay?”

  Hayden exhaled, then swung his legs over the lounger and stood. “I’d like to be there if that’s all right.”

  The last thing I wanted was supervision while I turned his room, but I never said no to a guest. “Okay, but I don’t have to do it now if you want to drink your coffee.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll fit in around you.” He slid his hands through his almost-curly hair. “I can work downstairs as easily as I can up here.”

  Nothing about this charter made sense—he must understand that I was meant to fit around him not the other way around. But I couldn’t fight him on this at every turn, so I decided I would just take his offer at face value. “Careful. I might hand you a mop,” I teased, leading the way back into the interior.

  He chuckled but didn’t say anything.

  Once in the bedroom, he opened his laptop and settled at the small table under the window. I set to work.

  I’d never felt so much like the help as I did as Hayden Wolf worked while I cleaned. Ordinarily, I didn’t mind being the maid of the rich and famous. The guests all seemed to merge into one and I was able to separate who I was from the job I was doing. Maybe it was because Hayden was here alone, or maybe it was because he wasn’t that much older than me, but the distance between Hayden and me didn’t feel as vast as it did with other guests. And I didn’t want him to see me as a stewardess. I wanted him to see the person beyond the uniform as a woman who could have gone to college and done so much more than clean his room and change his bedding.

  I kept glancing across as Hayden remained laser focused on his laptop, occasionally frowning or shaking his head. Perhaps I could assist him in some way? It wasn’t as if he’d brought a personal assistant on board, which wasn’t unusual, although they normally stayed on shore somewhere rather than on the yacht.

  “How long do you think you’ll be?” he asked without looking up.

  Shit, had he seen me staring in his peripheral vision?

  I snapped into action, pulling the sheets from the bed. “I’ll be as quick as possible, but you really don’t need to babysit me. I’m trustworthy.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, turning to look at me. The intensity of his eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Honestly,” I said.

  Again he looked at me, opened his mouth and went to speak before shaking his head and grabbing his computer. “I’ll be next door,” he said and swept past me, that earthy, masculine scent following him.

  It was probably for the best. The less time I spent in close proximity to this man the better. Normally, I played along when guests told me more than they ever should about their personal business—everything from sexual exploits to dreams for the future. I’d nod, smile and feign interest, but I’d never be tempted to ask for more detail—it wasn’t my business and I’d never been particularly interested—always focused on the job and the service I was providing rather than the people I was providing it to. With Hayden Wolf, I found myself having to hold back from following him into the office and asking him a thousand questions. That desire couldn’t just be his muscular arms and searching eyes. I’d never been taken in by just the physical before, but with Hayden it seemed as though there was more to him—his family, his drive. The way he looked at me. Yes, it was better that he left me on my own. I’d be able to focus on getting his room fixed rather than the man I was fixing it for.

  Eight

  Hayden

  Despite the heat and the rocking of the yacht, I couldn’t sleep. My plan had been to spend all night in the office working with advisors based in New York, who I’d selected because they had no public connection to Cannon. Then I’d thought I’d sleep in the day on deck. Working all night was fine. Sleeping all day wasn’t. Especially not today. I was due to hear from the lawyers, and I didn’t trust Wi-Fi, so I was having to go old school and have everything couriered to the boat in hard copy or on USB sticks.

  I checked my watch, noting it was about half an hour since I’d seen Avery Walker. Right on cue, the main salon doors swished open. When she’d been cleaning my room, I’d found her so distracting that I’d had to leave the room. I’d been mesmerized by way her hands gripped the bed linen and found myself fantasying about pushing her onto the bed and my shoving her skirt up to her waist.

  “Anything I can get you?” Avery asked as she came out onto the main deck. She made it sound as if she’d just happened to be passing by, but I’d been watching. She was always passing by every twenty to thirty minutes, catering to my every need. Her ponytail swished behind her as she came to a stop by my lounger. How would that ponytail feel wrapped around my hand?

  I cleared my throat as I shook the fantasy of her out of my head. “Yes, actually.” Nine times out of ten there was nothing I wanted from her, but it was just coming up to noon and I needed her help.

  She had an almost-permanent smile on her face, but it pulled a little wider, as if my asking for her help was what she wanted more than anything—that was bloody attractive. “What can I get you?”

  “Well, first, I want to give you this,” I said, pulling out the preferences sheet from beneath my laptop.

  She sank her teeth into her full bottom lip as she took the sheet from me and began to scan the papers I’d scrawled over. “This is really nice of you.”

  It had taken some bollocks for her to ask me to fill this sheet in yesterday. She’d been trying to make her crew’s life easier, and my stay more enjoyable, but it would have been easier, less confrontational to have just stayed quiet. From our tour I could tell she was good at her job, but I hadn’t quite realized the care and compassion she had for her work and her colleagues. And I enjoyed that she’d called me out—and in such a charming way. She was all politeness on the outside but hinted at her core of steel. I had thought I was being helpful by not caring one way or another about the preferences sheet, but subtly she’d told me I was being anything but and that I had to let her and her crew do their jobs. She’d been confident and clear and my sheer admiration of her and the way I’d been handled meant I had to reward her and if I couldn’t fuck her, I could do what she’d asked and fill out the sheet.

  “No inflatable banana,” I said, not being able to suppress a smile.

  She giggled and heat grew in my belly. She had a beautiful laugh. “I thought you might skip that one.”

  “I don’t avoid all fun if that’s what you think. But that’s a little too much.” Why did I care if she thought I didn’t like to have fun? I was here to work.

  She nodded, smiling. “By the end of the trip, you never know what I might have talked you into.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I was beginning to think
she could persuade me to do a number of things that were against my own best judgement. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my focus. “I’d like you to go ashore and collect a package for me.”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  Shit, her calling me sir shouldn’t be as arousing as I found it. “Please, it’s Hayden.” I shifted, sitting up on my lounger, trying to distract my dick. “There’s a patisserie on Lotissement Château Martin. I’d like you to pick up a cake.”

  Her smile faded from her eyes but her full lips stayed in place. “No problem,” she said.

  I pulled out a scrap of paper where I’d written down the name and address of the patisserie while on the phone to the lawyers last night.

  “It’s only a short walk from the marina.” I beckoned her forward and she stepped toward me, closer than we’d been before. My face was level with her pussy and my eyes flickered up over her breasts to her face. Shit. Shit.

  I stood abruptly and she took half a step away. I had to hold myself back from snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her against me. I didn’t know this woman. What was wrong with me? “Please be there no later than two. Someone will meet you and give you an envelope with some documents in it.”

  “I think I should speak to Captain Moss. I mean—”

  “It will be nothing but legal documents in the envelope along with a USB drive. I just don’t want to send or receive anything electronically.”

  She nodded. “I understand, but I should just mention it to Captain Moss. It’s protocol if we’re picking up something from the shore.”

  “Do you have a concern about my request?”

  “I just need to run it by—”

  “Tell me your concerns, or what the captain’s concerns might be and perhaps I can allay them. I’m going to be very disappointed if I can’t get a simple package delivered to me here. With no Wi-Fi, I’m having to rely much more on hard copy documents.”

  “I understand and I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Leave it with me.”

  Avery wasn’t being unreasonable. I was irritated because the documents I wanted her to collect were important, and I wanted her to know that I wouldn’t be asking her to do anything that wasn’t legitimate. “Just make sure you put the envelope in your handbag so no one outside sees you carrying it and walk out with the pastry.”

  She took a breath as if she were going to speak. I understood why she wanted to question me, but I really had nothing to hide. She was trying to walk the tightrope between her duty to the captain and her duty to me and completely irrationally, I wanted her to trust me. To know that I wouldn’t do anything to compromise her. To want to do anything I asked.

  I pushed my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching for her and providing her with some kind of physical reassurance. “Honestly, it’s just legal papers that I have to read. You can trust me.”

  She could trust me. She was smart to be cautious, but she didn’t need to be cautious of me.

  “Okay.” She checked her watch. “I’ll have to leave soon. Eric will have to take me, though. Can I tell Eric or am I pretending to buy you a cake?”

  I smiled at her desire to do the right thing by me. Was it because it was me or because I was a guest? Obviously it was because I was a guest—one of hundreds she’d fulfilled requests for during her career.

  “You’re just collecting some documents for me—this isn’t Mission Impossible.”

  She glanced down at the piece of paper I’d given her. “I’d better get going then.” She turned to leave, but I reached out and caught her arm. She gasped and the sound sent a jolt of lust right to my cock. Her gaze slid from where we were joined to my eyes. She pressed her lips together as if she were stopping herself from saying something. I blinked, trying to fight off the attraction I was feeling.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She nodded, then headed back through the sliding doors. I’d gotten used to her easy smile and professionalism far too quickly, felt comfortable with her far too easily. It was inexplicable. I was in a state where I was suspicious of everyone, questioning everything yet as Avery Walker disappeared, I imagined smoothing my palm down her naked back and whispering all my secrets to her.

  Nine

  Avery

  The wind cooled my warm cheeks as the tender headed toward the coast. I sat in the back while Eric steered, trying to calm my racing pulse. I turned to see Hayden Wolf leaning on the railings of the main deck, facing in this direction. Was he watching me? When he’d grasped my arm earlier, had he meant to? Was it concern, thanks or something else he was trying to convey with his touch? Perhaps it was because he was the only guest and I was the only person he spoke to onboard, but I’d begun to feel an affinity, something more than physical attraction, a pull toward him. I wanted to help.

  I turned back to face the shore.

  As Mr. Wolf had predicted, Eric didn’t question me further when I said I had to pick up some documents from the shore, even though I’d made up some elaborate story in my head. I guess we’d all seen far wilder requests from guests.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Eric asked as he steered us into the marina.

  I took his hand as I stepped off the boat. “No, you stay with the tender. I won’t be long.”

  “You don’t even have your phone with you—you know the way?”

  My French was basic but good enough to ask for directions if I got lost. “I’ll be fine. If I’m not back in an hour, send out a search party.”

  At the end of the jetty, a paparazzo with a camera hanging around his neck leaned against the railing. It was a little early in the season for celebrity sightings, but there was always the odd exception.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he called over in a British accent.

  I smiled and kept walking. Without the breeze from being at sea, the temperature had notched up. I wanted a long, cold drink. And maybe a pool.

  “You work on the yachts?” he asked, following me.

  I ignored him and headed up the street, the yachts on my right, surrounded by tourists trying to peer inside to a world inhabited by the rich and famous. A hodgepodge of different buildings screened the other side of the road in chalky pinks and yellows, housing restaurants and ice-cream bars sheltering from the heat under awnings.

  The photographer followed. “Hey, you shy? Don’t speak English?”

  During high season, it wasn’t unusual to be approached by paparazzi asking who was staying on which yacht. Sometimes they even offered a little money in exchange for information, but they were easy to ignore. “I’m just trying to enjoy a few hours off.”

  “So you are yacht crew. I knew it.” He punched the air as if it was some huge victory. Maybe this guy was new. “Anyone interesting on board?”

  “Nope,” I replied. I was pretty sure a picture of Hayden Wolf wasn’t going to earn this guy any money.

  “Not Leonardo DiCaprio or JLo?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I said, seeing the road split off in two and the promise of a restaurant table with shade farther up.

  “Give you a hundred bucks if you tell me who’s on your boat.”

  I stopped and turned to him. Like a hundred bucks was incentive for anything. It wouldn’t even cover a single physical therapy session. These paps needed to understand that the tip was a much bigger incentive to keep quiet. “No one you would be interested in, but I did hear that man-child Leonardo is going to be in Nice later in the season.” I hadn’t heard anything about Leonardo DiCaprio that I hadn’t read on Page Six, but maybe if I gave this guy something he’d beat it.

  “What if I gave you two hundred bucks?”

  This photographer wasn’t getting it. I just shook my head and started to walk again.

  This time he didn’t follow me, and I headed into the backstreets away from the chatter, laughter and popping champagne corks of the busy waterfront. Hayden had said I needed to be at the patisserie by two, so I still had some time to call my dad.

  Glancing a
round, I spotted a public telephone kiosk up the street. I grinned at the thought that I could unload a little—be the girl from Sacramento who had her whole life in front of her instead of the woman who was looking after her family by yachting in Saint Tropez.

  “Daddy, it’s me,” I said when he answered, excited to get to talk to him away from everything.

  “Hey, kiddo, we were just talking about you.”

  “I wish I were there,” I said. “I miss you guys.”

  “Well, you not being around means Michael and I get complete control over the television, watch sports all day and eat what we like. Isn’t that right?”

  I grinned as Michael yelled abuse in the background.

  “You miss me, you know you do.”

  “Of course we do. What are you up to? Been peeling grapes for your guests?”

  I laughed. “Not today.” Hayden had still been in his office when I got on shift at seven this morning, which meant he’d worked all night. Grapes were the last thing on his mind.

  “Guests aren’t being too handsy, are they?”

  Early on in my career I’d made the mistake of giving my dad too many details about the things guests got up to. Now he worried.

  “Not at all,” I said, trying to reassure my dad, though I thought back to Hayden touching my arm. It hadn’t been disrespectful. Just familiar. The fact it caused my body to heat and shudder was my problem—Hayden hadn’t been out of line. “I’m running some errands for the client.”

  “Always busy running around after everyone else. You need someone to wait on you for a while. Treat yourself.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me.” I liked to be busy.

  “I know you’ve told me it’s difficult to date on yachts, but maybe you could find another way to think about yourself, carve out a life for yourself. You’re a generous girl and I worry you’re giving up too much of yourself.”

  I rolled my lips together, trying to block out what my dad was saying. “You know that I want to take care of Michael.”