Touching Paradise

by Cleo Peitsche

  Faced with this stranger, she had the same chilling feeling, that danger lurked behind his graceful beauty.

  “You’re welcome to use my boat,” he was saying. “Actually, if you like, I can take you. You’re diving?”

  “Snorkel,” Sosie said. “But we couldn’t impose, Koenraad.”

  He shook his head. “Nonsense. You’ve helped me out a few times. I’m happy to captain, especially if you’ll try to convince your boss to either fix that thing so she doesn’t pollute, or retire her.”

  “That would be awesome,” Sosie said. “What do you think?” Sosie looked at Monroe, who stared back at her, frozen, not wanting to insult the handsome stranger’s generous offer.

  “I really don’t mind just going back to the hotel,” Monroe insisted.

  “I insist, miss.” His polite words made her heart skip a beat. Why oh why were polite men so sexy? “Hope your fenders are in better shape than your motor,” Koenraad said to Ralph.

  Ralph shook his head. “I wouldn’t scratch up your baby like that. Swim platform?”

  Koenraad nodded, then went back up the stairs. A moment later, his boat vibrated and began to reverse in a tight radius. The back of his yacht was flat, just like Dragon’s. Swim platform. Made sense.

  When the boats were almost butt to butt, Sosie tossed over a few bags of supplies, then she hopped over the narrowing gap, her movements agile.

  Koenraad came down the steps and through a knee-high door. He didn’t seem worried about falling off of the yacht’s flat back. He came right to the edge and stepped one foot over, balancing perfectly across the gently rocking boats. He extended his hand, a smile on his lips.

  Suppressing a resigned sigh, Monroe tightened her grip on her beach bag and placed her hand into the stranger’s. The moment they touched, two powerful and conflicting sensations flooded her: she wanted to run, but she didn’t ever want to let his hand go.

  Fortunately, he made the decision for her. He held her hand tight and steered her across the flat part, but as soon as she walked through the little door, he released her. Monroe stared at the immaculate deck of his boat. Her gaze jerked to the tinted windows, the gleaming walls. Luxurious boat. She suddenly remembered where she was and turned and grabbed the railing.

  “Thanks, Koenraad,” Ralph said. “Beers on me next week.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Koenraad climbed the steps, and a moment later, they slowly pulled away, the engine purring quietly. Sosie went up to have a word with their new captain, and Monroe looked around the yacht.

  Straight ahead were darkly tinted windows, and she saw more steps leading below deck. She was tempted to bend over and cup her hands around her eyes, take a peek inside. But that would have required letting go of the railing.

  “Let’s get you in a wetsuit,” Sosie said, coming down the steps.

  “Wetsuit?”

  “It’ll keep you warm and help you float.”

  Monroe nodded despite the coldness in the pit of her stomach. Sosie grabbed one of the bags she’d hauled over from Dragon and headed down the steps. “Are you coming below deck or what?”

  Monroe lunged down the steps and immediately felt more secure with something more substantial than rails between her and the water rushing by. “Wow,” she breathed as she descended. The boat’s interior was nothing like she’d assumed. Windows allowed copious amounts of natural light to illuminate an elegant cooking area and plushly padded benches around a platform table. A carpeted hallway led off toward the back of the boat.

  “Nice yacht, huh? All of Koenraad’s are top of the line.” Sosie had dumped her bags in the walkway and was already struggling into a wetsuit. Monroe picked up her suit, wondering if it would even fit over her ass.

  She shucked off her coverup. “He has more than one? Boat, I mean.”

  “He loves the water,” Sosie said. “I’ve heard that sometimes he doesn’t go home for weeks on end, which is a shame because his place is sweet.”

  Monroe couldn’t fathom choosing to spend so much time on the ocean. Sure, it was peaceful out there, with no one else around, but all that water? No, thanks. “You’ve been to his place?”

  “He throws parties sometimes.”

  “His wife doesn’t mind him disappearing like that?” Monroe asked, vaguely aware that she sounded kinda nosy.

  “Koenraad?” She snorted. “Not the marrying type, if you know what I mean.”

  A strange disappointment overcame Monroe. “Oh.” She should have known. Hot, rich guy who actually had good manners could have his pick of women. Guy like that could get women to accept any sort of bad behavior. “Guess men are the same everywhere,” she said, wincing at how resigned she sounded.

  “No, not like that. He’s not a jerk. It’s more like he’s not into relationships or something.”

  “I see,” Monroe said, though she didn’t. She was able to get the wetsuit on, and Sosie pulled up the zipper for her, then snapped a few photos.

  “Hope you don’t mind if I join you?”

  Monroe jumped at the masculine voice, her hand on her throat. She could feel her pulse hammering wildly underneath her fingertips.

  “Actually, it’s perfect,” Sosie said. “I can get some overhead shots from the boat. Ralph better watch out or you’ll steal his job.” She handed Monroe a snorkel and mask, then stepped back and smacked her palm on her forehead. “Oh, Koenraad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think to grab an extra mask for you. You have one, right?”

  “I don’t need one.”

  Monroe found herself following Koenraad to the low end of the boat. He fitted a small, curved ladder into notches on one side of the swim platform.

  “Normally I’d say ladies first, but I’m overheated, so forgive me for impatiently jumping in.” He pulled off his shirt as he spoke.

  Monroe almost gasped. It wasn’t because of the perfection of his golden, broad chest. Or rather, it was that, and how it contrasted with thick, ropy scars that ran from the bottom of his neck, over his clavicle, and whipped around the right side of his torso.

  He removed his loose pants and Monroe had to look away. She knew that serious swimmers wore Speedos, but it was one thing to see it at a televised competition and quite another thing to be an arm’s reach away. And there was a bulge, oh, yes, a definite bulge under the tight, black fabric, and while that bulge behaved innocently enough—not standing straight up or anything—the sight set her cheeks aflame. The outline of his sleeping cock burned into her mind, and the image made her think of sex. Specifically, sex with Koenraad, who wasn’t some hot movie star on a screen but was a living, breathing man who was going out of his way to do her a kindness. He deserved better than to be lusted after.

  Koenraad strode to the end of the platform and dove into the ocean, his body elegant and perfect. Monroe watched the area where he’d gone in, waiting for him to resurface. She wasn’t going to put a toe in the water until he came back up, that was for damned sure.

  A moment later his head broke through the surface. A look of pure joy illuminated his face. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Wait until you see the coral reef. All the bright fish.”

  “I’d think that living here, you’d be numb to it,” she grumbled under her breath. Koenraad laughed, and she frowned because she knew she hadn’t spoken loudly enough for him to hear.

  She reluctantly walked to the edge of the platform and sat, thrusting her legs into the dark ocean. The side of her knee brushed the silver ladder. Its solidity was in direct contrast to the churning water that sucked and lapped at her calves.

  Her hands nervous and fumbling, she fussed with the snorkel mask.

  “Have you been snorkeling before?” Sosie asked, her voice hesitant.

  Monroe shook her head.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize. We would have practiced in shallow water. It’s easy. Hold on, let me get rid of the camera…” Her feet padded away, fast. Not running, Monroe noticed. You weren’t supposed to ever run on a boat. She’d read that in a ch
ildren’s book once, and as she recalled, there was a sailor who did run and who ended up drowned. There had been a drawing of some kind of spirit in the ocean, its baleful eyes greedily waiting for the disobedient sailor to tumble into its domain.

  Ok, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to be thinking about at the moment.

  Koenraad swam closer, his movements effortless. “May I?” Those weirdly dark eyes seemed to look into her soul, and she handed him her mask just to break from his intense stare.

  He slid the mask strap up his arm and gestured to her. “Come into the water,” he said. “It’ll be easier.”

  Her eyes locked with his, and her body went stiff. “I…”

  He moved even closer, a reassuring smile lighting his face. “Don’t be afraid. You’re going to have fun. Trust me.” He held his hands out again. He didn’t sound annoyed, like Thomas would have. Like she would have, probably, if she’d been faced with an adult acting like a big baby.

  She wasn’t sure where it came from, the courage to move, but she was moving, her eyes still on his. The water was shockingly cold, but Koenraad’s hands were touching her neoprene-covered forearms. Just gently, guiding her.

  “It’s ok if you wanna take Ralph’s job, but don’t steal my client!” Sosie said, laughing. Monroe could hear the snapping of a camera, the sounds faint.

  Koenraad didn’t respond to Sosie’s joking. His focus was on Monroe. She was acutely aware of how strong and masculine his hands were. Enormous. Like they could wrap around her and keep her safe. Gradually, she realized that Sosie was right; the suit made her float easily. She smiled, and Koenraad smiled back. The expression softened his chiseled features, made him look almost approachable.

  “Let me adjust you and I’ll get the mask on.” He moved her hands to his shoulders, and Monroe tried not to think about sliding closer to him. Under her palm, the scar was rough and inflexible. She wondered how he’d gotten it.

  Her body, keyed up, was flooding with adrenaline. Her mind wasn’t on sex, but her body sure was. Even though she was wet everywhere, one part of her felt wetter, getting slippery. And Koenraad’s body was so warm that she wanted to press herself against him.

  She stared off to the side, pretending to be engrossed in the expanse of water. Which was a mistake because she suddenly realized she was in the middle of the ocean, and there were probably miles of water underneath her. And even if it wasn’t quite that much, it was more than enough for her to drown.

  “I’m a certified ocean rescue lifeguard,” Koenraad said, his deep voice steady. “We had some really crazy drills. Like diving to retrieve a golf ball in our mouths, our hands and feet bound.” He smiled. “I set a record for fastest capture. That golf ball was barely wet and I had it up again. You’re safe.”

  “It’s not you… I’m afraid of water,” Monroe whispered.

  “I noticed,” Koenraad whispered back, a little smile tugging the corners of his perfect mouth. “But thank you for telling me. Once you see the reef, you’ll forget all about that. And I’ll be right by your side the whole time. I promise.”

  She knew he was just reassuring a nervous, silly tourist, but she couldn’t help feeling another rush of desire for him. Except this one didn’t pass quickly, and instead lingered on her skin, alerting her senses, waking parts of her she generally didn’t think about.

  Or maybe she was having an allergic reaction to the neoprene.

  Koenraad fitted the snorkel mask over her eyes and nose and adjusted the mouthpiece. “Put this into your mouth and breathe normally.” He held it to her lips, and she blushed and looked away as she opened to accept it.

  He eased the silicone into her mouth. “Good. How does it feel?”

  She nodded. It was comfortable other than having this sexy man pressing something between her lips. That just felt dirty. In a good way.

  “I’m going to move my hands to your waist, and I want you to bend forward and put your face in the water. Ok?”

  She nodded and reluctantly removed her hands from his scarred yet perfect shoulders. To her horror, the skin where she’d gripped him was a little pale for a moment. She wanted to apologize—she hadn’t realized she was gouging him, but she didn’t dare open her mouth.

  His hands were firmly on her middle, his palms so broad that they seemed to wrap around her, though she knew that wasn’t possible.

  “Go ahead.”

  She slowly leaned forward and placed her face into the water. She couldn’t see very far, but there wasn’t anything to look at. She started to pull her head up, but Koenraad said, “Not yet. Just breathe. You’ll see how easy it is. When you’re ready, we’ll swim over toward Eden. Ok? Breathe for me.”

  So she breathed. The sound was strangely loud, like when people in movies had on scuba gear. She hadn’t expected that.

  “Thanks for letting me take you out today,” Koenraad said. “I don’t spend nearly enough time relaxing and exploring the ocean, and you’re giving me the perfect excuse to do that.” He explained how to blow water out of the snorkel and had her practice it a few times. “Good,” he said finally, his voice warm and not the least bit condescending. “You’re going to have so much fun.”

  His chatter served to further calm her. She felt comfortable enough to turn her head and look around a bit, and she saw Koenraad’s lower body, his thick, muscular legs slowly moving. It was nothing like when she treaded water, arms and legs moving furiously as she tried to keep her head as far above the surface as possible. She relaxed even more, knowing she was in good hands.

  Chapter 6

  Koenraad tried not to think about the curvaceous body in his grip. Although he was in human form, he could perceive things that no human could. He felt the tattoo her pulse beat through her body, and he could smell her.

  Heaven help him. He wasn’t looking forward to the moment he put his face into the water. He could breathe underwater in human form, though he was careful never to do so in the presence of non-shifters. Still, he ached to shift, to inhale her.

  She was perfect, he knew. Healthy. Strong. He wanted to rip away the fabric between them and plunge himself into her warm heat. If she were a shifter, they’d be fucking now. That would be something for Sosie’s cameras.

  To distract himself, he prattled on about the history of the coral reef and the types of marine life they were likely to encounter. Of course, seeing fish assumed he would manage to contain himself enough so that everything didn’t scatter, sensing an agitated predator in their midst.

  “You can come up now,” he said.

  She straightened and spit out the snorkel. “Ok, that was easy. You were right.” Her voice had gotten higher with excitement.

  He smiled. “It’s not often a man hears those words from a woman. But then, you don’t know me.” He almost added yet.

  One of her eyebrows raised. “Why do I get the impression that you think I’d be saying it more if I knew you?”

  He smiled, broader. “No comment.” He liked that she’d trusted him and that she’d gamely given it a try. He knew better than anyone just how nervous she’d been, and still was, though her pulse was finally slowing.

  Which he shouldn’t know because there was no reason to have his hands on her hips right now. And in a moment, he’d have to let her go completely.

  With great reluctance, he said, “So we’ll try it floating.”

  “Back or stomach?” she said.

  “You’re so funny,” Sosie said, breaking the spell. “Don’t swim off right away. I want to get a few more photos from above.”

  “Ready?” he asked Monroe.

  She nodded and put the snorkel into her mouth. Her hands tapped along the long tube as if she wanted to reassure herself that it was still there and still pointing in the right direction, and Koenraad felt his cock stirring. He shoved impure thoughts from his mind.

  “Same thing as before, and this time I’m going to let you float. I’ll be right next to you.”

  When she was breathing, her b
ody relaxed enough, he reluctantly let her go. He’d been holding her down, in fact, and the moment he released her, she stretched out flat, the luscious curves of her body, wrapped in black, tantalizingly close. He marveled a moment at the small of her back and how it gracefully gave way to the perfect round globes of her ass.

  His cock appreciated it, too.

  Now, that wouldn’t do… If she turned her head, she’d have an excellent view of his growing erection. He stretched out, his hand patting her shoulder, then traveling down her arm.

  She quickly grabbed at him, clasped his hand desperately in hers. He laughed, huge bubbles of air escaping from his mouth.

  “Stop that,” Sosie said. “You’re ruining the shot.”

  When he felt that Monroe was ready, he gently steered her toward the coral reef. If she were more comfortable, he would have dived with her, would have taken her to a hidden world. He longed to share it with someone. But most of the shark shifters he knew were much older, the age of his parents.

  Shifters around his age made him consider moving to another ocean entirely. But everywhere, shifters were dying out. He knew there were some places in the States where lupines flourished, but that didn’t help marine shifters. And humans… better they never know that shifters existed. The ridiculous myths about Tureygua were bad enough, but at least no one believed them. He’d had human girlfriends, but he’d never been able to reveal who and what he was.

  And because of his considerable duties, he’d been unable to sustain the relationships for long. Women tended not to appreciate the late night calls he got from the Council, and they liked it even less when he was forced out of bed and into the water to take care of a marine problem. In the end, he’d always needed to break things off.

  He’d wondered if things might have been different if they’d known his reasons for leaving. But it was better to let them assume he was uninvested in the relationship than to tell the truth: he patrolled this island, keeping away the most dangerous animals, maintaining the respect for shifter laws, and keeping the humans who came into their world safe from both shifters and wild animals alike. Darius had thoroughly ensnared him, but Koenraad had to admit that it had been a kindness, giving him problems that he could fix.