An Honorable Surprise (9 page)

Simon was already waiting at the stern of the yacht when he saw Tamara.
My God, she’s fantastic. Sexy, or what? How the hell am I going to play this?

“So who’s the sissy?” he shouted, and turned and dived into the water. For a fleeting second Tamara drank in his lithe, tanned, muscular body, and felt a rush of jealousy that Gina was the one who worked out with him.
I’ll show him.
And a moment later she had run to the edge of the deck.

The cold water hit her as she surfaced and looked around to look for Simon, but he had already swum away from the yacht before he turned around, treading water, and waved. She swam strongly towards him, revelling in the rush of water along her body and the heat of the sun on her back.

“Listen, let’s play with the jet skis,” he shouted as she reached him. “Swimming is boring. How about it?”

“I’ll go on yours - I’ll feel a bit nervous.”

He looked at her in surprise. “You? Nervous? OK - race you back to the boat!”

A few minutes later they climbed back on to the yacht to find fresh cotton towels and robes. Simon spoke into the phone and a few moments later there was a discreet whir and a panel slid back to reveal a jet ski. A crew member appeared with a control panel, pressed a few buttons and lowered the machine into the water.

“This boat has got everything,” Tamara said in amazement. “It should have, “Simon said drily. “It costs enough!”

“That’s the second time you’ve complained about costs,” Tamara teased him. “Are you running low on funds?”

“Any more of that and you’ll be thrown overboard to swim home.” Simon climbed onto the jet ski which bobbed in the swell, hands on the steering handles. “Here, climb on - you’ll have to hold on to me.”

Tamara put one foot on the side of the jet ski nearest to her, and then swung a leg over the seat. It was surprisingly comfortable, but she was glad she could hold on to Simon.
 

“Ready?” he called, and revved the throttle. Tamara was pushed backwards by the speed with which they pulled away from the boat, and shrieked as she grabbed Simon tightly around his waist.
 

“Not so fast,” she yelled.

“Don’t be a baby!” he shouted. “Hang on!”

Tamara didn’t need any encouragement. She wondered if Simon had engineered this entire escapade so that he could see her in her swimsuit and then get her to hold on to him intimately.
Well, not intimately, but I’m only inches away from….”

Tamara couldn’t believe that she was entertaining such lascivious thoughts, but there was no denying the muted eroticism of hugging an almost naked man who looked great as he powered their craft through the water. They were criss crossing the waves now, and with each leap over the crest Tamara had to hold more tightly onto Simon before relaxing and then holding him again.

She was aware of another jet ski leaving the yacht, and guessed that it was one of the team checking that they were OK. She had a flash of jealousy and hoped that it wouldn’t be one of Charlie’s Angels.

But she needn’t have worried. As they were making a turn, the other jet ski drew nearer, and Tamara recognised the crew man who had helped her on board when she returned from Positano. He waved at Simon and pointed at something.

Tamara couldn’t hear what he was telling Simon. “It’s no good,” he shouted above the throb of the jet ski. “We’ll have to go back. Apparently there’s a launch coming out and it’s crammed with paparazzi. I don’t want them around.”

He gestured to the other rider and revved the engine. With a roar they headed back to the yacht and drew alongside the stern. When Simon cut the engine, Tamara heard the high pitched sound of another boat approaching.
 

“Let’s get inside. That’ll be the paparazzi vipers,” Simon said angrily. “I’ll make certain we move further out into the bay so we don’t get any more hassle.”

When they got up to the sun deck, Tamara leaned against the chrome railings and saw a speedboat about sixty metres away speeding towards their boat.
 

“You’ve caught the sun,” Simon said. “Here, let me put some lotion on.” Without waiting for Tamara to answer, he unscrewed a tube of moisturiser and began gently smoothing it across her shoulders. Tamara bent forward slightly, her skin tingling as his fingers massaged the cool ointment into her skin.

“Umm - that feels rather good,” she murmured. Then she noticed how fast the other boat was approaching. “They’re going to hit us if they don’t turn away.”

“Get back, Tamara,” Simon said sharply. “They’ll have telephoto lenses.” At the same time two of the crew quickly lowered sun awnings so that they were hidden from the prying cameras. “Can you organise lunch, someone?” he barked.
 

Tamara touched his arm. “Hey, it’s OK,” she murmured, noticing his bad temper and not wanting to have the day spoiled. “They can’t see us anymore. That swim has worked up an appetite in me at any rate.”

He frowned, and looked at her as though he hadn’t noticed her swimsuit before, and smiled slowly as he looked her up and down and whistled approvingly. “You look fabulous… just great.” He was standing against the light, and Tamara drank in his honed torso and tanned, lean body.
 

But they were interrupted by stewards who began laying cutlery on the table and arranging the hors d’oeuvres.
 

“We’ll keep an eye on our visitors, sir, and move further away when you’ve finished your meal. I think they’ll get tired when they see that they can’t snatch any pictures.”

“Thanks, Mike. Oh - and let’s have some champagne!”

“Are we celebrating?” Tamara laughed, walking over and hugging him.

“We certainly are,” he whispered into her ear, pulling her towards him.
 

Tamara ran her hand across his chest and stroked his back. “So what’s the celebration for?” she murmured.

“This!” Simon said, and tilted her chin upwards before kissing her mouth.

For a lingering, melting moment Tamara pressed her lips towards his, and then pulled back coquettishly. “You’ll have to try harder than giving me a ride on a jet ski, you know. I told you I’m not one of your models.”

“You certainly aren’t,” he said. “They don’t have brains. They don’t have any conversation. And they certainly don’t have a body like yours!”

Tamara blushed. “You’re a liar, Mr Henty. I know my shortcomings!”

He laughed, and a few moments later they were sipping champagne.
 

“My God - I’m going to use that gym after this lunch,” Tamara sighed later, as she finished her espresso.

“Nonsense - that was a straightforward Mediterranean meal - healthy and simple.”

“Mmmmmm - what about the wine?” Tamara asked lazily, conscious that she had drunk more than she was used to, but loving the relaxed time they were having, and the warmth of the afternoon sun.
 

   
Simon had talked about his childhood and his first forays into business selling sweets at school. He seemed disinterested in getting Tamara to talk about her own family, for which she was thankful.
 

“Well, you do seem to have a good head for alcohol,” Simon said seriously. “In fact, I’d say you’ve had a lot or practice!”

“Don’t be horrible, Simon. You kept filling my glass!”

“I was too busy boring you to notice.” He glanced at his Rolex. “But I’m ready for a nap. I’ll get the boat moved further along the coast where we can overnight and won’t be bothered by intruders. Photographers are a lazy lot you know. If they can’t get you coming out of a club, or within twenty minutes of a harbor, they’ll give up quickly. Coming?”
 

Simon took her hand and walked towards the steps that led to their quarters. They walked across the stateroom with its polished dining room table and easy chairs, but then he slowed. “When I said I was ready for a nap,” he said, “I suppose the thought crossed my mind that maybe we could doze together?” He bent to kiss her again, but this time his tongue found hers, and Tamara yielded to his loving embrace, tasting his passion and pressing herself against his hard body.
 

“I think I’m beginning to fall for you,” he whispered, as he opened the door to his cabin, and drew her inside.
 

“Simon, I’m not sure -“ Tamara started awkwardly. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

“Hush, it’s ok,” he said, gently drawing her to the kingside bed and pulling her gently towards him. “I don’t want to rush things. I just want to make you feel great. Because you are.”
 

Tamara slowly climbed on to the bed beside him, knowing that she was crossing a line. She trusted him implicitly, and she wanted desperately to make love, but not now. Not yet. But waves of lust were surging within her, and she opened her mouth willingly as Simon leaned towards her and began to kiss her again, but with greater urgency and feeling. He was so tender, and so gentle, that Tamara felt herself relaxing and allowing him to slide the thin straps of her swimsuit off her shoulders before he gently uncovered her breasts and began to kiss first one, and then the other.

She could feel her body responding as he teased her body into submission, and she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh. It had been so long, and this man who she had misjudged so greatly was being so gentle as he made love so tenderly.
 

She knew, deep down, that she wanted to be possessed, utterly. He was placing butterfly kisses on her hot skin and moving down her body, edging her swimsuit off her in small, delicious movements. In a moment she would simply have to lift her hips slightly and he would be able to slide the material under her bottom and she would be utterly, swooningly, naked beneath this godlike lover.
 

“Ah -hh - hh “ she sighed, arching her back and stretching her arms above her head. “That is so lovely,” she whispered. “But - “

Simon paused his delicious kisses. “It’s OK, my darling. We’re just having fun,” he said gently, pulling her swimsuit up.

“No-oo,” she moaned. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“But you’re not certain you want me to go on either,” he whispered. “And that’s why I’m falling in love with you, Tamara.”

Chapter 10

For a moment Tamara couldn’t remember where she was. She turned over sleepily and suddenly rolled against Simon’s naked back.
 

“Mmmmm - that feels nice,” he murmured. “Don’t move an inch!”

“I’ll kiss this inch then,” she whispered, and started to kiss him gently, moving her mouth across his skin, tonguing his shoulder and neck.

“If you go on doing that, Ms. Tremaine, I might not behave like a gentleman! What time is it anyway?”

“We’re on holiday. Time doesn’t count. Only these count,” Tamara said softly, still kissing him.

“My God - “ Simon sat up suddenly. “I’ve missed a conference call with the office - “

“No you haven’t. You’re the boss, aren’t you? You can rearrange it. You’re on vacation, after all?”

He looked at her, and smiled. “You’re a disgraceful temptress, aren’t you? One moment I’m being pushed away, the next I’m being encouraged to throw inhibition to the wind!”

“Not inhibition, I promise you. You’re doing things to me that I never expected, feelings I thought were shut away. I’m having to adjust, Simon.”
 

“What are you telling me, Tamara? What don’t I know?”

A shadow crossed
 
her heart but she moved only slightly and sat up beside him. “We’re in an unreal world here, Simon. This boat is an island and we’re cut off. In a few day’s time we’ll be flying back to Sydney and, well, things will be back to normal.” Her voice trailed off, uncertainly.

He didn’t answer, but leaned over and tilted her chin, kissing her lips hungrily until Tamara moaned into his mouth as he grasped the nape of her neck. He tasted divine and her body yearned to be possessed and taken, as she ran her hands through his hair and arched her back in exhilaration.

I don’t care if he finds out about my family. I don’t care if he hates me. I just can’t stop. Ahhh…..

She moved he hand down his stomach and gently stroked his erection. He moaned slightly, and lay back against the pillow so that she could trail kisses down his body until she was able to
 
take him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the end. Tamara felt gloriously wanton as she took him deeper and deeper, tasting his wetness and revelling in his arousal.

Simon moved slowly into her, thrusting his hips so that she only had to hold him in her mouth as she caressed him into delirium, unhurriedly at first, but then stroking him confidently, up and down, further and faster, intoxicated by his mounting excitement, until with a guttural cry he poured himself into her.

****

“You’re not looking at me. Why not?” Simon asked.

Tamara took off her sunglasses and squinted at him. “I was looking at you. In fact, I was looking at you for so long I was wondering when you would finally notice. And, no, it wasn’t because of your gorgeous body either!”

“Now, now, don’t embarrass me! OK - so what else caught your attention?”

Tamara pushed away her coffee, trying not to let her eyes linger on his honed torso, glistening with suntan oil. “You aren’t reading a spreadsheet or a financial report. If I’m not mistaken, you are actually reading a tourist guide! Am I right? Are you finally relaxing, Simon?”

He laughed, and held up the guide book in surrender. “I give up. But after this morning I’ve found it extremely hard to concentrate.”

Tamara blushed, the memory of her love making still fresh and exciting. “So what are you learning?”

“I’m finding that I’m very much looking forward to acting like a tourist and discovering people and places - specifically, you and your body - “

“Simon! Shut up,” Tamara hissed, glancing over the rail at the deck below. “There are people around listening!”

He grinned wickedly, and went on unconcernedly. “I bet you don’t know why they called the town Positano? It’s all here,” he said, reading from the guide. “A wicked pirate stole a relic from the church and escaped by sea. A voice called ‘Posa, posa’ which means ‘put it down’. The relic was returned and the town was called Positano.” And this remarkable change of attitude you’re noticing in me is because I just can’t put you down from my mind.”