Between the CEO's Sheets / House Calls: Between the CEO's Sheets / House Calls

She prayed for enough courage to sustain her through this trip and placed her faith in Wade and his sailing abilities. She watched him move along the sheets and sails, making adjustments and setting the course.

In faded blue jeans and a white tank, Wade might have looked like a typical sailor except his muscles strained harder, his body held more steadfastly, the concentration on his face appeared deeper than on any man she had ever known. Studying his fluid movements along the rigging, Gina could only admire him.

His kiss last night had been something.

But it had meant nothing to him.

I need you.

Yes, she understood that he needed her as his personal assistant, a right-hand man and a secretary all rolled up in one. He didn’t need her in any other capacity. Not in the way she had needed him nine years ago.

Wade took his place behind the wheel and they sailed in silence for a short time. The boat rocked and waves smashed up against the hull as they sailed along. Gina shuddered, unable to suppress the trembling of her body.

Wade turned at that very instant, catching her in a moment of fear. Their eyes held for a moment before he angled around again and Gina hugged her middle, tamping down the tremors that passed through her.

A few minutes later, Wade left the wheel and handed her a life jacket. “Put this on. You’ll feel better.”

Gina didn’t bother to protest. He was right. But though wearing a life vest might help with her fear, it wouldn’t erase the memories she had locked away that were surfacing. She put her arms through the armholes and closed the jacket taut.

Wade helped her fasten the snaps and tied it for her. And when she thought he would return to the wheel, he surprised her by taking a seat by her side. “Feeling seasick?”

She shook her head. Her queasiness had nothing to do with the motion of the sea. “No.”

“You’re trembling and pale, Gina.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

“No, I meant to say, I’m not seasick, but this is the first time I’ve been on the water since…the accident.”

Wade’s dark brows rose. He appeared genuinely surprised.

“I realize that this is the ocean and the accident happened on a lake, but—”

“You haven’t been on the water since?” he asked.

Gina closed her eyes. Memories flooded in of the ski boat, the laughter, her mother’s smiling face and then…the collision. Gina went flying into the water, out of danger. Her parents hadn’t been so lucky.

She shook her head and stared at the hands she’d placed in her lap. “No. I haven’t had the courage. It’s been almost ten years.”

“So, why now?” Wade asked softly.

But she sensed he was really asking her, “Why me?” Why would she take her first boat trip with him? She’d been desperate for work she’d wanted to tell him. She needed the money and was determined to start her business again, without anyone’s help this time. She’d been betrayed, but not destroyed. She wouldn’t give up, and if that meant facing her fears, then so be it. She peered into a face filled with concern, an expression reminiscent of the sweet, caring Wade Beaumont she’d once known. “It’s time, Wade. That’s all.”

Wade leaned back in the seat and put his arm around her. “That’s not all. Tell me about the accident.”

“I—I don’t talk about it.” She’d never really spoken about that day except with a support group that had really helped and understood what she’d been through. Losing both parents had been devastating enough, but to be the sole survivor of the crash that had taken four lives had been equally difficult. The result was major survivor guilt.

“Maybe you should. Maybe it’ll help you overcome your fear of water.”

She shook her head and gazed out upon the open sea. “I doubt that.”

Wade took her hands in his and the look on his face, serious but earnest, urged her on. “Try, Gina. We’re going to spend a week on an island surrounded by water. There’ll be times we’ll have to come back to the boat.” He cast her a slight hint of a smile. “I can’t have you fainting on me.”

Gina peered into his eyes. They were warm with concern. But she wondered if that look was about keeping his personal assistant calm or if it was truly for her benefit.

He squeezed her hands gently, coaxing the words that she hadn’t spoken to anyone but her support group. “It was Memorial Day weekend,” she began, “and we never once thought to worry about drunk drivers on the water…”

Emotions rolled in the pit of Gina’s stomach. She’d purged herself of her burden, sharing the events of that horrible day with Wade. He’d listened to her as she tried to communicate without tears, but at times her voice broke and she choked up. Wade sat there with a soothing arm around her shoulders, listening. And when the last words were out of her mouth, he thanked her for telling him.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

Gina nodded feeling a small sense of relief. “A little.”

He stood and peered down at her. “You need to eat something.”

“No,” she said, placing a hand to her stomach. “No, I couldn’t.”

“If you don’t want to eat, there’s coffee down below.” He glanced at the blue skies overhead then looked into her eyes as if deciding what was best for her. Then he took hold of her hand, guiding her up. “You look tired, Gina. Take a little rest. Get away from the water for a little while.”

He spoke softly and his tone comforted. She thought she could fall for him again—if she hadn’t sworn off men completely and if he would always look at her like he was now, without contempt and regret in his eyes. “Maybe I will go down below.”

He walked her to the steps and turned, tugging her close. She nearly bumped into his chest when the boat swayed. He steadied her with both hands on her shoulders then, with a slant of his head, brought his lips to hers. The kiss was brief and chaste and when it was over she gazed deeply into his eyes and smiled.

Wade looked off toward the horizon a moment then returned his focus to her face with narrowed eyes. His soft expression turned hard once again.

“Don’t think I gained any satisfaction seeing fear in your eyes or hearing pain in your voice, Gina. I’m not that big a bast—”

Gina pressed her fingers to his mouth. “I know, Wade. You’re not—”

He pulled her fingers from his lips. “I am. Make no mistake. But I draw the line at preying on another’s weakness. Take that as fair warning.”

Gina shuddered at Wade’s harsh tone. He’d let her glimpse the man he’d once been, but only for a moment. The young man she’d fallen in love with was gone, she feared, forever. And she’d had everything to do with his demise. “Consider me fairly warned.” She turned to walk down the stairs, feeling Wade’s penetrating gaze following her every step of the way.

Wade guided the boat toward the mooring can in Avalon harbor on Catalina island and set about tying the lines to secure the boat from bow to stern. The trip had been uneventful, the weather calm, the sailing smooth. But his passenger had yet to return to the deck.

With the dinghy ready to take them ashore, Wade made his way to the cabin below. The galley was empty, the food he’d set out was untouched and there was no sign that Gina had even been there.

With a curious brow raised he walked to his master bedroom and bath, finding that room empty as well. He’d have guessed as much and smiled to himself, but his smile faded quickly when he finally found Gina, sprawled out on the bed in the guestroom.

“Gina,” he said quietly.

When she didn’t rouse, he entered the room and gazed down at her, lying across the bed, her hair in a tangle, the dark tresses half covering her beautiful face. The dress she wore rode up her thigh, the material exposing thoroughly tanned, shapely legs. She’d kicked off her shoes and made herself comfortable on the dark-russet bedspread. She looked peaceful and more tempting than a woman had a right to look. Hell, even her polished scarlet-red toenails turned him on.

Her eyes opened slowly, as though she’d sensed him watching her. With a sleep-hazy sigh, she stretched her limbs, reminding him of a cat uncurling after a long sleep.

“Mmmm…Wade,” she purred and continued that long slow sensual stretch while keeping those lazy half-lidded eyes on him.