A Bride for the Maverick Millionaire

He could see out through the gaps in the stacks of seats, but that was only because she was in a pool of light. Surely she couldn’t see in. Not when he was so shadowed.

‘Who is it?’ She was suddenly nervous, gripping the edge and starting to pull herself out.

It must be him. She’d sensed his presence and he was frightening her. No…

‘Rachel, it’s Finn,’ he called. Whatever illegal things were happening, nothing seemed to be taking place tonight. Hopefully, no one below deck could hear.

‘F… Finn?’ She was half in and half out of the water, peering into the shadows. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Meditating,’ he said, making his voice firm, abandoning his hiding place, strolling out as if it were the most natural thing in the world that he’d been sitting behind a stack of deckchairs in the small hours.

If the people he was watching had this woman’s intuition…

‘How did you know I was there?’ he asked, trying to make his voice casual.

‘My grandma was Koori,’ she said, still sounding nervous. ‘She was sensitive at the best of times, and when she was older she lost her sight. She reckoned if she had to learn to make her way by sound, we should, too. She’d take us out to the park at night, turn off the torch and make us tell her what was happening. And then she’d tell us whether we were right. Your chair scraped a bit—and then I thought I heard you breathing.’

‘That’s creepy.’

‘Not as creepy as you hiding behind deckchairs,’ she retorted, reaching for her bathrobe.

‘Don’t get out,’ he told her quickly, but not moving any further forward. He desperately did not want to frighten this woman. ‘I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I’ve had my quiet time now. I’ll go.’

She slid down into the water again, neck deep, and watched him. She’d tied her hair up, knotting it on top so it wouldn’t get wet. She looked… stunning. A nymph in the moonlight.

Her fear was fading. Speculation took its place. ‘Meditating,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Like in Zen?’

‘Yoni Mudra,’ he said promptly. Back in his boat-building days, he’d built a boat for one interesting lady. Maud-ish, but with kaftans and cowbells. The entire time he’d built, she’d tried to convert him to whatever it was she followed.

He still wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d enjoyed it.

And, to his astonishment, Rachel knew it.

‘I’ve heard of Yoni,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘That’s where you block your ears, cover your eyes, pinch your nostril and press your lips together with whatever fingers are left. Breathing’s optional.’

‘When I’m deep in meditation, that’s a worry,’ he said, starting to smile. She really was one amazing woman. ‘I can go ten minutes without remembering to breathe.’

She chuckled, but then she said, ‘You’re lying.’

‘How can you doubt me?’ he demanded, wounded. ‘I prefer mantra meditation, but humming my Oms would wake the boat.’

She chuckled, but then her smile faded and she looked at him directly. She was floating forward on the cushioned pads at the side, her chin resting on her arms. Her attention was all on him.

‘So you were hiding behind the deckchairs—why?’

‘There’s a good one set up at the back. It’s comfy.’

‘It would have been comfier if you’d set it up in the front.’

‘I might have scared any chance wanderers with my weird breathing.’

She thought about that. ‘How many chance wanderers have been up here?’

‘None,’ he admitted.

‘But you were expecting some?’

‘I was right to expect,’ he said. ‘Here you come, wanting to gossip…’

‘Right,’ she said dryly. ‘Go back to your Yonis. I won’t bother you.’

‘I’m done with Yoni. My chakras have been wakened and they can’t go back to sleep. So…’ He surveyed her with care. He had frightened her, he thought. He should leave, but he had the feeling that she’d no longer feel safe here. He’d spoiled her night.

She didn’t believe him about the meditation. Why should she? It was a crazy story.

He couldn’t tell her the truth, but maybe he could make it normal. He could make her relax and then leave.

Leave?

What he’d really like to do—really like to do—was move closer, maybe even slip into the spa.

Right. Strange guy, hiding in the shadows and then jumping into the spa… She’d be justified in screaming the ship down.

‘You can’t sleep?’ he asked, and she shook her head.

‘Nope.’ Nothing forthcoming there.

‘It’s the best time,’ he said easily, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and lounging back against the ship’s railing. Giving her space. Acting as if this were midday rather than the small hours. ‘When I was a kid I used to escape at night,’ he told her. ‘My grandparents went to bed at eight o’clock. By nine they were asleep and I’d climb the tree under my window and head off for a night’s adventures.’

‘You lived with your grandparents, too?’

‘My mother died when I was five,’ he said briefly. ‘She had what my grandma called spongy lungs. Bronchiectasis. I can barely remember her.’

‘Our parents dumped Amy and me with Grandma when we were toddlers,’ she told him. ‘They were tired of playing families. Thank heaven for grandmas.’

‘I’d say that, too,’ he said. ‘Grandparents rock. As do dogs. Gran and Pop were too old to keep me company, so I got my first dog when I was six. Wolf even climbed the tree with me.’

‘Wolf?’

He grinned at that. ‘He was a bitser,’ he admitted. ‘Contrary to his name, he’d lick you to death before he’d bite, but he gave me courage. Kid roaming the night with Wolf… cool. I’d never have had the same street cred with a dog called Fluffy.’

‘I called my dog Buster,’ she said, smiling back at him. Finally relaxing. ‘Maybe naming him Wolf would have been better—but I suspect people would have laughed. It’s too late now.’

‘You only had the one?’

‘I only have the one. Buster’s staying with Amy during this cruise.’

‘How old is he?’ he asked, startled.