A Dangerous Arrangement (18 page)

‘You'll carry the original. Five officers from Portofino are already on the ship. They'll be in the tender, ready to go, by the time we get there.'

Marina raised her eyebrows. ‘You've really thought of everything.'

‘He's stolen designs worth millions, he set you up, and now he's stalking and blackmailing you. These are serious crimes in Australia, and …'

Marina frowned at his pause. ‘And … what?'

‘Look at WikiLeaks. If Yu can work among us, break into our system and encrypt our files, imagine the damage he could do with sensitive government information.'

Rask came closer then. ‘The police have made this a priority, not because of Dean's high profile, though that didn't hurt, but because this encryption thing is spreading worldwide and shows no sign of abating. More companies are being hit every day. In recent weeks these hackers closed down one of the major telecommunications companies in the US. The major concern is that they could hit vital power and water utilities. They need to be stopped.'

‘I see.' Marina stared at Rask. It was the longest speech she'd ever heard him make.

Dean checked his watch. ‘Okay, so we've got an hour and a half before we need to get ready.'

Marina sighed. ‘It's going to be a nervous wait until the ship comes in.'

‘Sure is.'

‘Well, I might go downstairs and read for a while.'

‘Hold on a minute.' Dean looked at Rask. ‘Can you spare us for an hour?'

‘Shouldn't be a problem. Just take the satphone with you. I have to stay here in case they get back to us about the image.'

‘I didn't invite you, Hektor,' Dean said, winking at Marina when she frowned at him.

‘Didn't think so.'

Dean looked at her then. ‘Come on.'

‘Where are we going?'

‘You've got your first swimming lesson.'

Marina went cold all over. ‘No.'

‘Yes.' He took her by the arm and led her from the saloon. ‘People who can't swim aren't allowed on my yacht.'

‘Then you'll have to let me off.' Only, when she said it she realised she didn't want to leave.

Dean's lips curved in a smile and he shook his head. ‘Not an option.'

Oh God!

By now they were at the top of the spiral staircase.

‘It's too deep and …' She glared at him, half inclined to stamp her foot, half inclined to flee to her stateroom.

‘We'll go to that private beach. It's shallow for a long way out, and the water's a nice temperature.'

Marina bit down on her bottom lip, stomach churning with nerves at his proposal. They had an anxious wait ahead of them, and there was no question going to the beach would kill some time. And she'd always intended taking swimming lessons in Sydney, but never got around to it.

She watched as Dean walked around the other side of the staircase and opened a set of double doors. ‘Come in here.'

She blinked. ‘Isn't that your stateroom?'

He rolled his eyes and disappeared inside. ‘You're quite safe. Just come here, will you?'

Marina sighed and followed him through the open doors. She didn't have to go far. He was standing right inside, a rather battered-looking acoustic guitar in his hand.

‘I'll make a deal with you. A swimming lesson for a music lesson. I've been battling with this for close on ten years, and I'm still on the beginner's book for dummies.'

Marina's lips curved in a slow smile. ‘What a surprise.'

He was watching her, a questioning expression on his face.

‘I must say, you make a convincing argument, Mr Logan.'

‘I understand you're embarrassed. But your swimming lesson will be no more embarrassing for you than my guitar lesson will be for me.' He held the instrument up by the neck. ‘I will find it intimidating, having to play this in front of someone as accomplished as you.'

Marina swallowed, body going warm all over as she imagined being immersed in the water with Dean, both of them semi-naked, his hands on her as he taught her to swim. ‘You're making it very difficult for me to refuse.'

‘Then don't.' He propped the guitar against the wall and took the ship's phone from his pocket. ‘Go get your swimsuit.'

Eyes locked on hers, he put the phone to his ear. ‘Alain? Launch the tender.'

Chapter Twenty-One

Ten minutes later the tender was in the water, and Dean was adjusting the ties on her life jacket. It reminded Marina of the day in Sicily when she'd worn the bike helmet, though on this occasion his hands lingered a little longer as he adjusted the strap.

‘What became of the Harley?' She raised her arm so he could adjust the side tie.

‘It's on board, with some jetskis and other fun stuff. It's a nice bike. I don't feel like parting with it at the moment.'

Marina looked at the silver-painted speedboat tied up to the back of the yacht. ‘You certainly love your big boys' toys.'

He straightened and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Some people might say I'm overcompensating for other deficiencies.'

She blushed, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to look at his crotch. ‘I didn't say that.'

But she'd known where a comment like that would lead, and she'd gone ahead and said it anyway.

‘You're welcome to find out for yourself.'

‘Dean!'

He laughed, and eventually she smiled and looked away. Her darn mouth was at the mercy of her subconscious.

Time to change the subject.

‘The tender's different to the ones on the cruise ship.'

‘Comparing
this
to a ship's tender is like comparing a racing car to a people mover.' He pointed to the tender. ‘This baby is made of carbon fibre and fibreglass. It's capable of 45 knots. It's racing boat engineering.'

She laughed, revelling in their new camaraderie. ‘Well, excuse me for not being up on my tenders.'

His reassurance that there was nothing between him and the heiress had already brought them closer. Even more so, their willingness to learn something from each other.

He smiled, looking so boyish in his tee-shirt and boardies it was hard to believe he owned a multi-million dollar company.

‘Okay, I think we're good.' He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Alain, we're off.'

Alain emerged from somewhere behind them and began untying the bow line that attached them to the yacht.

Then Dean clambered on board with the same ease he'd displayed on the gondola. And just as he had in Venice, he reached out to her. This time, she took his hand without question, and as she stepped across the small gap, confident in her life jacket, he wrapped a muscular arm around her waist and lifted her into the boat.

‘Welcome aboard.'

He held her a little longer, a little closer than necessary, his warm, hard body pressed against hers until Marina silently cursed the barrier of the life jacket.

Then his arm loosened, and he pointed to a seat close to the front. ‘Take that one.'

As she sank into the soft, white leather, Alain tossed the rope to Dean and the tender began drifting away from the yacht.

Dean looked at her as the first mate disappeared inside. ‘Ready?'

She nodded, heart hammering with excitement as he turned the ignition switch and the luxurious boat roared to life.

He raised his voice above the din of the three outboard motors, positioned the throttles and trimmed the tender. ‘I've designed this to deflect spray while we're underway. You won't even get wet, especially when it's calm like today.'

‘Getting wet isn't an issue. It's sinking that worries me.'

He winked then covered his eyes with the trendy Ray Bans she recognised from Venice. ‘When you're with me, darlin', that's never gonna happen.'

She laughed, and then the wind caught her hair again as he opened the throttle further and the tender began cutting through the water.

‘We'll take a run south for five minutes then turn back. It will give you a closer look at the coastline.'

‘Okay.'

Marina dragged her hair over one shoulder, quickly divided it into three sections and worked it into a loose plait. Pleased she'd thought to bring a hair band, she slipped the elastic over her wrist and wound it around the bottom of the plait.

‘This is the estate I was telling you about.' Dean pointed to a heavily wooded shore just south of the beach. ‘I've known the couple who own it for years. They bought a yacht from me.'

‘Do they know we're here?' Marina asked, her voice carried away on the wind.

‘They sure do. Don't worry. They won't interrupt. They're in their eighties.'

Marina stared at the coastline, those three little words ‘they won't interrupt' sending her imagination into overdrive and her body tingling with anticipation. And just like in Taormina, the heady combination of speed, fresh air and being alone with Dean had her living in the moment, the apprehension of her rendezvous with Victor carried away on the wake.

Soon, Dean was turning the boat in a wide circle and heading for the beach. They were closer to the shoreline now, and Marina gazed in wonder at the sheer beauty of it all. Stunning mountains rose from the sea, creating a towering coastline of precipitous crags. Many of the small, sandy inlets were private beaches, owned by the residents of the pastel-painted houses constructed on the rocks above.

As they neared the beach, Dean decreased the rate of knots until they were barely moving. ‘The tender's shallow bottomed. I'll be able to get in close.'

A few minutes later, he cut the engine and put down anchor barely 3 metres from the shoreline. Then he took a pair of flippers and a yellow kickboard from under the stern seat.

‘Ready?'

Marina nodded, watching as he sat on the tender's side and eased himself into the water. It barely made his knees.

He pushed his sunglasses into his hair, his eyes locking on hers. ‘No second thoughts?'

She shook her head. ‘None.'

It was like they were talking about something else.

He patted the side of the tender. ‘Sit here, then swing your legs over.'

She did as he said, and then her hands were on his shoulders and he was lifting her into the water. He held her, until her feet hit the bottom and her toes curled into the coarse sand.

She shivered and looked down to where the water lapped at her thighs.

Little by little, he loosened his hold until she was standing on her own. He kept his eye on her as he grabbed the towels, flippers and board from inside the boat.

‘Okay, here we go, Pocahontas.'

They waded through the water and onto the beach. ‘Pocahontas?'

‘Your braid.' He shifted everything into one arm, picked up her plait and laid it over her shoulder. ‘
Pocahontas
is my favourite Disney musical.'

‘Really?'

When they were far enough up the beach, he dropped everything onto the sand and put his hand over his heart. ‘Would I lie to you?'

Marina smiled, a picture forming in her mind of him sitting in the captain's stateroom, watching
Pocahontas
.

Her sense of humour tickled, she began to chuckle.

‘What?' He tried to look offended. ‘I love that musical. Her hair, the whole squaw thing she's got going on—the kayak.'

Kayak?

Marina gave a splutter of laughter, and like a pressure valve releasing, her eyes started to water and her sides began to ache.

‘Oh.' She wiped her eyes and looked at him, and that set her off again. She tried to bend over to pick up a towel, but the life jacket acted like a spare tyre around her middle and prevented her from doing so.

‘Oh God!' She laughed harder, until she was holding her stomach and gasping for breath. All the while Dean stood there, watching her like she was the most enchanting woman he'd ever seen.

He had to be crazy!

She got control of herself, took a shaky breath and tried not to laugh. Then the image of Pocahontas in a kayak came to mind, and her eyes watered again.

Her stomach contracted.

She had him, if only she could stop laughing.

‘Name one song … from
Pocahontas
.' The last two words came out in rush.

He looked away as if giving the matter some serious thought. ‘Hmm … I've got it … Colours of the Rainbow?'

Marina sank to her knees in the sand.

He looked at her and burst out laughing. ‘Nah, I've got no idea. What gave me away?'

Marina rolled over onto her back and stared at a cloudless blue sky. ‘It's … a
canoe
.'

‘Really?'

She raised both arms in the air. ‘And
this
… from the naval architect.'

He sank onto the sand beside her, and when she pushed herself up on her elbows his face was close, level with hers.

‘I haven't heard you laugh like that since I sat on your hand.'

She smiled at the memory. ‘I guess there hasn't been much to laugh about lately.'

He nodded, his eyes on her face, then her lips.

Marina's breath began to quicken. She looked down at her life vest. ‘Does the lesson start with unbuckling this thing?'

He sat up. ‘Thought you'd never ask.'

Mouth dry, Marina studied his face, watching as he took hold of the top buckle. Warm breath fanned her cheek, dark eyebrows snapping together in a frown as he fiddled with the clasp.

Finally it unsnapped, and Marina took a deep breath, tried to stay still as his hands moved lower to the second one level with her breasts.

He looked up and caught her watching. ‘So much for quick-release buckles.'

His wrist brushed the swell of her breast, igniting every nerve in her body. Her breathing quickened, chest rising and falling as he unsnapped the second clasp.

God, she wanted him!

‘Dean?'