The Ruthless Gentleman

by Louise Bay

  “I know but it doesn’t feel right.” It did go against my instincts to leave a guest on board, knowing there was no crew other than the captain. But the reason I was still in my crew uniform was more complicated. I’d enjoyed watching the sunrise with Hayden the other morning. No one else had been awake and we’d had the boat to ourselves. I could pretend for a moment that he wasn’t a guest and I wasn’t a stewardess. And although I knew it was stupid, reckless even to think like that, I wanted that feeling again. Maybe that was a good reason to go ashore.

  “We’re in Italy, dude. You have to come ashore.”

  I smiled. Not at anything Eric had said but at the fact that after my conversation with Hayden and my suggestion at moving the yacht, he’d done exactly that.

  “Don’t be such a martyr. You’ve got to come. Neill’s told me how much tequila you can drink. I want to see it for myself,” Eric continued.

  Neill and I had had a blast in Greece last year. And there’d been far too much tequila between charters. A night out with Neill was guaranteed fun and my dad’s words about me taking time for myself rang in my ears. Maybe I should go, but the problem was I didn’t want to. I swept my hand down my body. “I’m not dressed for it anyway. I really should stick around in case Hayden needs anything.”

  “Did Moss say you had to?” Eric asked just as Skylar wandered into the kitchen.

  “You’re not changing?” she asked, her gaze flitting down my body.

  “Moss ordered her to stay,” Eric said.

  I cut my sandwich in half and put it on a plate, then set about cleaning the mess I’d just made. “Captain Moss has done no such thing. I’m chief stew. It’s my job to put the guests first.” It would have been nice to go out tonight and have fun, dance a little, drink a lot. Maybe find a hot deckhand from another yacht to kiss. But it wasn’t a deckhand I wanted a kiss from. Just Hayden’s touch covered my skin in goose bumps and heat. I couldn’t imagine what his lips might do.

  If I was staying because of the thought of Hayden’s mouth on mine, perhaps going ashore would be the safe option.

  Skylar slumped on the banquet. “You’ve gotta come. It won’t be the same without you. Please. Who will help me find rich, single men who have husband potential?”

  “These guys will look after you,” I said, lifting my chin as Neill came into the galley.

  “Cheese sandwich?” he asked and I nodded. Although no one was allowed to heat anything up in the kitchen—chefs were territorial—we were all permitted to make ourselves cold food.

  “She’s saying she’s not coming tonight,” Skylar said.

  “She’s right here,” I said, pointing to myself.

  “Why don’t you just come for an hour? I’ll bring you back,” Eric said, his expression pleading. “Or I can stay and once he locks himself in his office, we can head out. You know he never comes out once he’s gone in there for the night. You won’t see him again until tomorrow.”

  I could easily go. Eric was right. Hayden had been the person to instigate our night off. He didn’t need looking after. But I didn’t want to leave. “I’m not doing it.”

  Neill blew out a breath. “Save your breath, Eric. I’ve tried to talk her out of it, but you know how dedicated she is.”

  “I’m dedicated to my tip.” I laughed and took my plate to the dining table, tucking into the banquette next to Eric and Skylar.

  “You’re dedicated to the job,” Skylar said. “I’m never going to be a chief stew if this is what it takes. I’m always going to choose husband shopping, vodka and dancing over a guest.”

  “It’s really not a big deal, guys. It’s one night. We’ll have plenty of fun times this season when this charter is over.” The problem was, I knew if it were any guest other than Hayden Wolf, I could be convinced to go ashore.

  “I’ll drink your share if it makes you feel any better,” Eric said.

  “Taking one for the team.” I winked at him and a slight blush crept over his baby face.

  “Always. I’m all about the sacrifice,” he mumbled.

  “You’re going to miss the fireworks,” Skylar said.

  “Fireworks?” I asked before taking a bite of my sandwich.

  “Yeah, some festival or other. Maybe you’ll catch them from the boat,” Neill added.

  It was dumb, but I really did like a good fireworks display. Especially from the water. “I hope so. That would be cool.”

  “That’s if you’re not running around after the Wolfman,” Eric said.

  “The Wolfman?” We didn’t call the guests nicknames because there was too big a chance for them to overhear. Not until the charter was over anyway. And Hayden had been nothing but courteous to all the crew as far as I was aware.

  Eric just shrugged.

  “Like you said, he’ll go down to his office and I won’t see him all evening. I doubt I’ll be running anywhere.”

  “Then why don’t you come ashore with us?”

  I tilted my head, encouraging Eric to drop it. My mind was set. There was no point having this discussion.

  “I think they’ll have them over the water, so you’re bound to see them,” Skylar said.

  For a second I thought about taking some photos to send to my dad and Michael, but then I remembered we didn’t have our phones. My dad loved to see beautiful pictures from different parts of the world. I think it reassured him that I was having fun. “I think so too. So, you see, I’ll hardly be missing out at all. But it’s very sweet of you guys to be concerned.”

  “Concerned about what?” August asked, appearing in the doorway.

  I groaned. I wasn’t about to go through it all for the ninetieth time. “You look pretty,” I told her, trying to throw her off the scent. “Come on,” I said, standing. “I’ll see you guys off.”

  “You’re not coming?” August asked and voices began to murmur. I ushered everyone out of the kitchen and down to the tender.

  “Seriously, it’s a full day of work tomorrow, so not too much alcohol. I’m not picking up your slack.” I eyed August in particular.

  We trailed down the stairs and everyone piled onto the tender. I untied the bowline and threw the rope to Eric then waved them off. It was good to see everyone in such high spirits.

  Giving them the night off was a nice thing for Hayden to have done. I glanced up to the main deck, still smiling at all their excitement, and locked eyes with Hayden. He looked far from happy, his face was like thunder and fury burned in his eyes. Was it his work that had caused that or was he mad I hadn’t gone with them? My stomach churned and my skin prickled with heat. I hated the thought that he might be angry with me.

  Sixteen

  Hayden

  I wasn’t used to my instructions being ignored. I’d had money and power for long enough that people rarely said no to me. I’d been clear when I’d spoken to Moss that the crew should have the night off. I accepted he’d have to stay on board, but I’d told him I wouldn’t need anything from anyone. I threw my pen across my desk. My concentration was shot. I didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep, or the overnight working, or just the irritation of being ignored by Avery, but tonight, I couldn’t focus. It was Saturday night and I’d just dismissed the lawyers. At least they’d have the afternoon and evening with their families.

  I knew I was working too hard. And I knew I was working my team too hard. I just wanted this deal done as soon as possible.

  I leaned back in my chair and glanced out the window—just blackness with slivers of silver when the water caught the lights of the boat. It was almost nine and I was hungry. And I could do with a whiskey. If I couldn’t work, then perhaps a drink would send me to sleep.

  As I entered the formal dining room, Avery appeared from the galley, her professional smile fixed to her face. “Can I get you anything?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

  She blinked several times, as if riffling through possible answers. “I just didn’t—”

  �
��Did the captain say you had to stay?”

  She placed her hand up to her throat. “No. Not at all. I just wasn’t feeling too well . . .”

  I stepped toward her. “Then you should rest.”

  She exhaled and her shoulders dropped. “That’s not true.”

  I crooked my head. She’d lied? And if so why had she immediately confessed? “What about? That the captain didn’t stop you from going ashore or that you’re not feeling well?”

  “I feel perfectly fine.”

  “I like the truth, Avery.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her shoulders drooped a little, as if her professional veneer was slipping. “The guys gave me a really hard time about staying. And I just don’t want to go through it again. Can we drop this, and can I get you something?”

  “The whole point of me giving the crew the night off was so you didn’t have to fetch and carry for me.” I stepped closer, and she had to tip her head back to still look at me. Her delicious throat, temptingly exposed, trailed down to her full breasts. “And I’m not dropping anything. Tell me why you didn’t go ashore.”

  “I . . . I . . . I don’t know. I just . . .” Her cheeks bloomed pink and I realized. She was embarrassed because she’d wanted to stay.

  I just wasn’t sure if it was the pull of me or her job that kept her on board tonight.

  “I’m hungry,” I said, half whisper, half growl. Hungry to taste her.

  Her eyes widened and her eyelids fluttered in confusion before she gasped. “I’ll get you something.” She spun around, headed back to the interior.

  I’d been a tenth of a second away from pulling her into my arms and exploring that polite mouth of hers. Had she not scurried away, I wouldn’t have been able to hold myself back. Maybe that’s why she’d disappeared inside. Something was holding her back.

  I followed her into the galley, watching her skate around the kitchen as I leaned on the doorjamb. She worked quickly, uncovering dishes of various meats, cheeses, pickles, bread, fruit, and then carefully rearranging any that weren’t exactly perfect. Picking up two dishes, she smiled and nodded toward the door.

  “Can I take those?” I reached for the dishes but she stepped back.

  “Please let me. This is what I do. This is what I’m good at. You’re happy to eat outside?”

  I nodded and waited for her to leave. She hesitated, presumably expecting me to go with her but I didn’t. As soon as she was out of sight, I picked up two more platters and made my way upstairs.

  When she saw me, her expression was unguarded. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or hurt I could see in her eyes.

  “I’m just trying to help. It’s senseless for you to make an additional trip while I follow you with nothing.” I wanted to tell her how she was good at more than carrying plates, how I imagined she could be good at anything she wanted to be.

  She pressed her lips together before taking the plates from me and placing them on the table. “Can I kindly ask you to take a seat?”

  I pushed down my smile. It was more than a little satisfying to see her so frustrated with me but trying to hide it. “I will take a seat if—when you’ve collected whatever other accoutrements you need—you’ll join me.”

  She paused before straightening the platter. “I want you to enjoy your meal in peace.”

  “And I’ve asked you to join me. Now, please do as I say, and bring a plate for yourself.” I pulled out the seat on the side of the table facing the water and made myself comfortable.

  She opened her mouth to argue, and I simply raised my eyebrows and she flitted back inside without a word. For whatever reason she was uncomfortable joining me, but for me the thought of her company overrode my need to be fair.

  She returned with my place setting. I enjoyed her needing to be so close—the two of us just centimeters apart so she could slide the placemat in front of me then set the cutlery down. Without saying a word, she folded the white linen napkin in a triangle and placed it in my lap.

  “Can I create a plate for you?” she asked, taking a half step back.

  My hand was just inches from the back of her thigh, temptingly close. I nodded and she set about placing a selection of food onto my plate and then poured my glass of wine.

  She clasped her hands in front of her after she’d set the bottle down in the ice bucket. “Anything else?”

  “Sit,” I said, taking a forkful of jambon and slipping it into my mouth. I nodded at the empty chair at the end of the table, next to me. I never took the head of the table—not in boardrooms, not around a dining room table. I always thought it betrayed a lack of self-confidence for anyone to have to proclaim themselves as the leader, the most important, the most dominant, by sitting at the end of the table. I preferred to prove it through my words, actions and presence.

  She transferred her weight from one foot to the next, trying to decide if she was going to do what she was told, and I didn’t rush her. Tentatively, she pulled out the chair I’d indicated and took a seat, sitting forward uncomfortably.

  “Have you eaten?” I asked.

  “I have, actually.”

  Of course she had.

  “What did you eat?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and I couldn’t figure out whether she didn’t want to tell me because I had no right to ask or if she was simply avoiding sharing anything, not wanting to take the next step because we both knew there was a next step.

  “A cheese sandwich.”

  I picked up my bread roll. “Like this?” I was basically having a ham and cheese sandwich, which worked for me.

  “Grated cheddar.”

  I nodded, taking another mouthful, wanting her to say more.

  “Bread and cheese is . . .” She looked dreamily out over the ocean and sighed.

  I chuckled. “Well there’s plenty here. And you have a plate,” I lifted my chin at the extra place setting she’d set in front of her as I’d asked. “Join me.”

  Her mouth twisted as she fought the need to remain professional with her desire to do exactly what a guest wanted her to do. She didn’t take any food—for now—and I didn’t push. Our exchange on the deck below had sent her running and I wanted her right next to me. I didn’t want to frighten her off.

  “What else?” I asked.

  “What else?” she questioned me back. She knew I was asking for more than just a rundown of her dietary habits. I wanted more of her.

  “What else do you like to do in your free time when you’re not eating bread and cheese?”

  She shrugged. “During the season there’s not much free time. So dinner and dancing with the crew is about as far as it gets.” She sat back in her chair.

  “And between seasons when everyone else goes exploring, what is it you do?” Did she have a boyfriend? Maybe even a husband waiting for her?

  A smile curled at the edges of her mouth. “The first night, sometimes I like to check myself into a really nice hotel. I know it’s extravagant, but it’s my treat to myself—one night when my bed’s made, my dinner is served to me, and my drink is made by someone else.” She ran her fingers down the wood grain beside her fork.

  “I can imagine that’s nice after running around after guests all season.”

  “It is, but it’s more than that, too. It’s about being me again—Avery Walker.”

  “And you’re not Avery on the boat?”

  She pulled her lip into her mouth as she thought about her answer. I enjoyed these pauses she took, the thought she put into what she said. I appreciated the effort she made to think about what I’d asked her.

  She glanced at me and sat back in her chair, adjusting to this arrangement between us. “Yacht crew are invisible but available on charter. We blend into the background. Generally guests aren’t rude, but they are guests, right? I mean, this is my job. I’m not here to have fun. As a crew member, we’re here to ensure the guests enjoy their vacation. So we’re part of the package, just like the fresh sheets, the good food, and the strong cocktails.”

>   “But you’re not a thing,” I said, uncomfortable at the idea she thought she was an object and that I may share that view.

  She squinted. “Not exactly, no, but if we’re doing our job well, we’re invisible when we need to be, and helpful when it’s required.”

  I regarded her while I continued to chew, wanting to hear her talk more, to know more about the Avery behind the professional gloss.

  “And that night at the hotel—it’s like I come back into focus. I become Avery Walker again.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I go back to Sacramento.”

  “California.” For some reason it was hard to picture her anywhere but on this yacht. “And you’re invisible again at home?” Why did she need that night alone? Who did she belong to that she wasn’t vibrant and authentic when she was sleeping in her own bed?

  “No,” she snapped, a little too quickly. “I didn’t mean that.” She reached out to take a pickle from one of the serving plates. I grinned—she was relaxing.

  “I like being home. It’s less . . .” She peered at her lap and then shrugged.

  “You live alone?”

  She shook her head and my pulse began to throb in my neck.

  “Nope, with my dad. And brother. I’m only there a couple of months of the year so it doesn’t make sense to have a place of my own.” The way her words tumbled out, she sounded well-rehearsed. I wasn’t sure if she’d said it out loud a lot or just in her own mind. “I like spending as much time as possible with them when I’m back. So it works.”

  My pulse faded back into the distance in response to her answer. No husband and no mention of a boyfriend.

  People observing from the shore wouldn’t see how much Avery and I had in common professionally. She worked hard, took pride in what she did and went above and beyond what any reasonable person would expect. She didn’t deserve to be invisible. I couldn’t imagine not noticing her.

  I wanted more of the woman I’d watched the sunrise with—her loose hair and warm wonder. She pulled me in despite doing her best to be invisible but available to me. I wanted to fill in the gaps, get to know the real woman, not the shadow who was always around in case I needed something. “How old’s your brother?”