Page 22 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8
She eyed the equipment. ‘I grew up in Southern California. It’s a cardinal sin not to be able to handle yourself in water.’
‘Good. Pick one.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
Jario didn’t respond. He was well aware that his charged silences prodded most people into speech, were they minions or heads of states. And he wasn’t surprised when she held out long enough to make him wonder if he’d met the first person to challenge that gauntlet.
But eventually she wandered closer, that hip-skimming skirt and tiny waist spiking his temperature once more.
‘That one.’ She pointed to the e-Foil surfboard.
She hadn’t gone for his absolute favourite and he grittily dismissed the surge of disappointment. This game was just to prove his point. To keep his goal straight and true.
Nothing else.
‘We’ll race. If you win, I’ll allow you one question. If you fail—’
‘I won’t,’ she interjected, that defiant nose up in the air again.
‘Ifyou fail,’ he stressed the word, ignoring the sparks of excitement igniting in his belly at the thought of engaging with this woman, ‘you’ll forfeit all your questions. You will leave my yacht at the next port and we will never speak again.’
He said that with enough conviction to believe it.
Almost.
CHAPTER FOUR
EVERYTHINGHAPPENSFORa reason.
Willow wasn’t one for ascribing such meanings to her life, but as she kicked her feet in the crystal-clear blue waters of the Pacific, ready to board the e-Foil, she couldn’t help but wonder if Addie, the sweet, grandmotherly, Tarot-loving former Chatterton housekeeper they’d sadly had to let go due to lack of funds, had a point with that saying.
Because wasn’t it only three months ago that she’d taken a rare break from both work and violin practice to try out the e-Foil at her local beach and discovered she loved it so much she’d started using it for much-needed stress relief when she got the chance?
Jittery excitement licked through her veins as she watched Jario stride to the edge of the swim deck. Like her, he’d changed into swimming gear.
Unlike him, she didn’t feel so at home in the minuscule borrowed designer white bikini clinging to her skin, a world removed from her usual all-in-one or better yet, the wetsuit she favoured but had foolishly omitted to pack in her hurry to get on the road. She tried not to openly stare at the chiselled body on display, especially those powerful thighs that flexed and gleamed bronze in the sunlight.
She heard him drop into the water with barely a splash, swim over to take control of his own e-Foil. The board was black like hers, but with red, meaner-looking stripes. Admonishing herself for allowing a simple water sport toy to intimidate her, she sternly reminded herself why she was doing this.
He’d finally given her the smallest green light, to get the answers she wanted. Yes, she’d jumped through hoops to get here but so what?
‘Ready?’
Her head jerked up to the speaking glance that said he’d seen her ogling him. Face flaming, she shifted her gaze to his muscled shoulder and nodded briskly. ‘Bring it.’
A lip twitch compelled her eyes to his well-defined mouth, and her stomach clenched as lust unfurled low in her belly. God, what was wrong with her? How could she find him—yet another man bent on playing mind andliteralgames with her, and the one attempting to destroy what was left of her family—so compellingly attractive?
Everything happens for a reason?
Hell, no, Addie! Not this.
Gritting her teeth, Willow secured her helmet and adjusted the remote securely strapped to her wrist before launching herself onto the board. She ignored how smoothly Jario did the same, not even bothering to rest on his knees before he started his motor. As much as she wanted to prove she was just as adept, the last thing she wanted was to be rash and blow her chance.
‘We start and end there.’ He indicated the positions. ‘Two turns around those buoys. First one to the finish line wins.’
She started the propellor, her stomach dipping a little when the board shot forward at the second setting. The e-Foil’s max speed was a whopping fifty kilometres. If Jario went anywhere near that, she was toast.
The fastest she’d ever gone—on a particularly trying day, when her father’s mood swings and heavy drinking had driven her from the house—was thirty-three.