At Her Pleasure. Cindi Myers
the summer with her new boyfriend instead.”
“Ouch!”
He shrugged. “The trip was already planned, so I decided to come out here on my own. I really don’t mind my own company, most of the time.”
A wave rolled over them, driving them apart, and he kicked his feet to move nearer to her once more. “So you and your boyfriend are here for the diving?” he asked.
“My boy—” She laughed and shook her head. “Adam is not my boyfriend. Just an old friend. Really.”
Really. He felt considerably lighter at this news. Almost giddy. “That’s great.”
She smiled, as if at a private joke. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
They were interrupted by the loud whine of a Zodiac approaching. Adam pulled the boat alongside them and idled the engine. “Hello, Marshall.” He nodded. The greeting wasn’t effusive, but at least today the man wasn’t hostile.
“Hello,” Ian said.
“Ian’s coming to dinner with us tonight,” Nicole said.
“That’s good.” Adam gave him a long look. “We should all get to know each other better.” He turned to Nicole. “You ready to go?”
“I guess so.” She paddled to the side of the Zodiac and Adam leaned over to help her in. Ian stayed back, enjoying the very nice view of her legs and backside as she climbed into the rubber craft.
“See you around seven,” she called as Adam piloted the boat away.
Only five hours. He couldn’t wait.
“WHAT WAS HE UP to out there?” Adam asked Nicole when Ian was out of sight.
“He was photographing fish and coral and stuff.” She pulled off her mask and combed her hair back out of her face.
“Not hunting for shipwrecks?”
She scowled at him. “No, he wasn’t hunting for shipwrecks.”
Adam gunned the outboard motor and the prow of the Zodiac rose out of the water. Nicole gripped the handhold on the side of the boat and braced herself against each slap of the hull against the surface of the water. Normally, she found the speed exhilarating, but now she was annoyed that Adam was venting his feelings this way.
“Did he say what he was doing here?” Adam shouted over the roar of wind, water and the outboard motor.
“He mentioned something about wanting to write a history of the island. He knew about Confessions of a Pirate Queen.” The knowledge that he’d probably read the same erotic passages she’d enjoyed added heat to her attraction to him. Ian would be the perfect person to help her discover her sexual power.
Adam frowned toward the horizon. “If he does that he’ll have half the amateur treasure hunters in the world descending on this place.”
“Then, you’ll have to find the shipwreck before he’s published.”
Adam slowed the boat as they neared the shore. Nicole gathered her hair in a knot at the back of her head and held it with one hand as she turned to look back at him. “Did you have any luck this afternoon?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m going to refigure my coordinates this evening. We have to be close—reports of the wreck mention the reef.”
“I’m sure you’ll find it. We have all summer.”
“The sooner we find it, the more work we can do before we have to leave.” His eyes met hers, his expression grave. “I want some impressive artifacts to show potential backers.”
“You’ll find them. You always do.” She smiled. “Thanks for inviting me to come with you. This really is exactly what I needed.”
“You’re welcome. Besides, I needed the help. Not to mention you’re a better cook than I am.”
She turned to look over the prow once more. She could see the yacht now, nestled in the cove, much of the deck shaded by the awning Adam had erected that morning. “I think we might as well grill the last of our steaks tonight,” she said. “They’re not going to last much longer in this heat.”
“You’re just trying to impress Marshall,” Adam said.
Her only answer to this taunt was a smile. She was trying to impress Ian. His dark intensity attracted her. His body wasn’t bad, either.
She was intrigued, too, by Passionata’s theories about male/female relationships. Like Nicole herself, Passionata had been betrayed by a man she’d loved. But instead of throwing a pity party, the pirate had exacted a more rewarding revenge—one that was financially profitable and, to judge by the portions of her autobiography Nicole had read so far—physically satisfying.
Nicole would leave the financial spoils up to Adam and his treasure hunt. But she was eager to test Passionata’s approach to physical pleasure.
Here on this island, she was declaring her personal mutiny from all the rules about how a nice girl should act that had constrained her until now. Granted, going against years of teaching and habit wouldn’t be easy. As daring as she’d felt yesterday afternoon watching Ian in his hammock, in the end she’d run away rather than risk being caught. Which proved she needed all the practice she could get. What better way to start her transformation than to commit her own modern-day act of piracy and seduce the handsome Englishman? They’d give a whole new meaning to the words tropical paradise.
4
IAN ARRIVED AT NICOLE and Adam’s yacht as the sun painted the western sky in orange and pink. He wore clean khaki shorts and a cotton shirt—the most clothing he’d had on since arriving at the island, and even that looked like formal wear compared to Adam’s faded swim trunks and tank top.
“Hello.” Nicole greeted him from the open door of the cabin. She wore a strapless red dress made of some silky material that floated in the breeze, the full skirt swirling around the tops of her thighs. She held a bottle of wine in one hand, and a trio of glasses in the other. “Would you like some wine?”
“Sounds great.” He held out the covered bowl that contained his own contribution to the meal. “I brought some mussels, poached in olive oil and wine. They’re everywhere in the tidal flat on my side of the island.”
“Sounds yummy.” She carried the wine and glasses to a small round table on the deck and he followed. “I’ll get some plates and forks and we’ll have them for our appetizer.” She handed the bottle to Adam. “Would you open this, please?”
Adam grabbed a corkscrew and attacked the bottle of wine. “The coals are almost ready for the steaks,” he said. Waves of heat rose from the good-size grill on the other side of the deck.
“This is a beautiful yacht,” Ian said, leaning against the rail. It was an older-model sailing yacht that had obviously been well maintained, the woodwork polished and the paint a crisp white.
“I inherited her from my uncle,” Adam said. “He taught me to sail and knew I’d love her as much as he had. She has an eight-horsepower diesel engine and full cruising and racing sails.”
Ian nodded. He knew little or nothing about sailing or engines and cared less. But he’d never admit it to Long John Silver here.
Nicole returned with the plates and forks and they sat down to wine and mussels. After her first mouthful, Nicole closed her eyes and moaned, a sound that sent Ian’s blood racing south. “These are delicious,” she said.
“Thanks. I’ll show you where to find them, if you like.”
“Is there much food on the island?” Adam asked, spearing a fat mussel with his fork. “Besides coconuts, mussels and fish?”
“Sure, there’s all kinds of stuff—different herbs and fruits. Purslane,