and made her way to her tour guide for the day. “Is this yours?”
“Yep,” he replied.
“How did it get here?”
“George.”
Clearly he’d decided to be cryptic. “Who is George?”
“My neighbor. He looks after the place when I’m not here, and in exchange I let him use the boat. I called and had him deliver it a few minutes ago.”
Evidently George wasn’t going to join them, a very good thing. “I see. I’ve never been on this kind of boat before. It looks like it costs a pretty penny.”
“About eighty grand.”
Paris nearly swallowed the gum she’d been chewing. “Eighty thousand dollars? For that price, it should clean the house, or at least do more than float around the water looking pretty.”
“It can fly,” he said as he held out his hand. “If you’re lucky, I might let you drive it.”
As long as he had sufficient insurance since she’d never been behind the wheel of a boat before. “I might take you up on that, if you’re lucky.”
He cracked a crooked grin. “I have a feeling we could both be lucky today.”
She returned his smile. “Could be.” Or not, depending on how far she wanted the seduction scheme to go.
After Dallas helped Paris down into the space-age looking seat, he untied the boat then claimed the space next to her. One hand on the wheel, he backed away from the dock slowly, said, “Hang on,” then turned the craft around and shot off into open water.
Yes, the thing could fly, and she couldn’t hold a conversation with him due to all the wind noise. She basically clutched the sides of the seats, gritted her teeth and only breathed easier when he navigated the boat into a secluded cove fifteen minutes later.
She pulled away the band securing her high ponytail and finger-combed her hair. “You need to turn around and go back.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I think I left my stomach a few miles back.”
He barked a laugh. “I take it you’re not much of a thrill seeker.”
Only partially true. She’d married him on a moment’s notice, hadn’t she? And she was definitely seeking some thrills today. “I’ve ridden a few roller coasters on several occasions, but I wasn’t quite prepared for this.”
Paris had prepared to turn on the charms and hopefully turn him on in the process. On that note, she crossed her arms, grabbed the T-shirt’s hem and tugged it over her head, leaving her clad in a red bikini top.
Dallas cleared his throat and shut down the ignition. “Didn’t know you had a swimsuit.”
“Actually, I didn’t either,” she said as she stood. “Jenny thought of everything.” Including massage oil and lubricants, a veritable sex shop in a bag.
“No surprise there,” he replied, his voice sounding somewhat grainy.
Paris realized she didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver, so she pointed to the enclosed hull. “What’s under there?”
“A live well to keep fresh bait and fish and a place to store equipment.” He climbed over the smoked glass minidash and stood on the decking to toss an anchor overboard into the murky green water. “You basically turn on the trolling motor and stand here to fish, but we’re going to stay stationary until you learn how to cast.”
“Or I could sunbathe,” she said as she retraced his steps and stood before him. “I can do that while we fish, right?”
“Not a whole lot of sun with all the trees, but whatever floats your boat, pun intended.”
She shimmied out of the shorts and tossed them back onto the seat, revealing the scant swimsuit bottoms. “I’m ready for a pole now.”
That earned her a wily grin. “I can fix you right up.”
“Fishing pole, Dallas.”
“I’ve got one of those, too.”
“You have an evil mind.”
“You have an unbelievable body.”
She felt a head-to-toe blush coming on, and the same old belief he’d simply been trying to be nice. “I bet you say that to all your first mates.”
He tucked one side of her hair behind her ear. “You’re technically my first mate.”
If only she could say the same for herself. If only she could erase Peter from her past and if only this arrangement with Dallas was real. “Well, I suppose we should start fishing before they stop biting.”
He stared at her a few moments before leaning over, opening a hatch and pulling out a rod. “I’ve got this rigged to catch a bass. I also have some blood bait for catfish if you’d prefer to try for one of those.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Any bait that includes blood in the name is out.”
“Good call, because it’s also known as stink bait.”
Ewww... “Definitely bass.”
“Bass it is. Now move to the edge of the boat.”
After she complied, Paris surveyed the wooded bank and noticed not a house, or soul, in sight. “How many people live on this lake?”
“Just me and George,” he said. “It’s a private lake.”
Of course it was. “So there’s no chance anyone will see me making a fool of myself?”
“Not likely.” Dallas came up behind her and handed her the pole with the little yellow frog-looking thingy dangling from the end. “Hold this in your left hand, and grasp the reel in your right.”
Simple enough. “Like this?”
“Yep. Now push that button with your thumb, pull the rod back to the side and let it go, but not over your head or you’ll hook me.”
She did exactly as he’d instructed, yet nothing happened. “I knew I wasn’t cut out for this.”
“I don’t mind helping you out.” He moved behind her, wrapped his hand around the rod below her hand and replaced her thumb on the release with his. “It’s just one smooth action,” he said as he cast the line in the water with ease.
He didn’t make a move away from her. In fact, Paris would swear he moved closer. “Okay. What now?”
He rested a palm on her belly and pushed her hair to one side with the other. “It’s a top-water jig, so the fish will hit it on top of the water.”
“How long does that take?”
“Until
