now that they’d surrendered. They didn’t have to hide their desire for each other—they could act upon it.
For now, Eden’s body belonged to him and his belonged to her. As long as it lasted, they would enjoy this powerful and intense attraction. And for now, he wouldn’t think about how it would end. Or if it ever would.
He lay next to her for a long time, considering all that had happened between them in such a short time. When he knew Eden was asleep, Marcus slipped off the sofa and retrieved a blanket from a nearby cabinet, then gently covered her.
He grabbed a beer from the icebox in the galley and crawled out on deck. The stars had come out, twinkling brightly in the inky blue sky. He sat down on the foredeck and stretched his legs out over the side of the boat, listening to the soft lap of the water against the hull of the boat.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat staring up at the sky. When he felt a soft caress on his shoulder, he looked up to see Eden standing above him. She’d wrapped herself in the blanket and had an uneasy expression on her beautiful face. “I woke up and you weren’t there,” Eden murmured.
Marcus reached out and captured her hand, then gently pulled her down beside him. He took the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, then tucked her beneath his arm until her body molded to his.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to do that.”
Marcus pulled back and looked down into her eyes.
“You didn’t?”
“Well, I did,” she explained. “But I didn’t. It was … wonderful. I—I don’t want you to think that I … that I—”
Marcus pressed his finger to her lips. “I’m not sure your father would approve, but we couldn’t have avoided it for much longer, Eden.”
“I want you to know that it’s never been like that for me before. I—I know you think that I’m … well, that I have—”
“I don’t,” Marcus interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. All that doesn’t make a difference to me. It’s just you and me, here, on this boat. That’s all we need to worry about.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Eden murmured. “I seem to make life very complicated for anyone I get involved with.”
“Then we’ll just keep things simple,” Marcus said. Somehow, under the starry night sky, with Eden sitting beside him, the notion seemed almost possible. But in his heart Marcus suspected that sooner or later Eden would leave. After all, what could he possibly offer a woman who could have anything … or anyone?
3
THE SCENT OF FRESHLY brewed coffee wafted through Eden’s stateroom, teasing her awake. She smiled and sighed, then opened her eyes, hoping to find Marcus in bed beside her. But the opposite side of the bed was cold and empty.
Her smile faded to a frown and Eden sat up, brushing the hair from her eyes. She still wore the gauzy cotton sundress she’d put on the previous afternoon, but she didn’t need a reminder that she and Marcus hadn’t completed the seduction begun yesterday evening.
A tiny shiver skittered down her spine as she recalled the sensations his touch had sent spiraling through her body. All the sexual experiences she’d had in her life seemed to blur together behind that single moment with Marcus. Her desire had been undeniable, so strong that it had obliterated the past. And their shared release had been so strangely intimate that it teased constantly at her thoughts.
Eden sighed as she toyed with the hem of her dress. He had no right to be so good at it, she mused. After all, Marcus Quinn was just a regular guy. A man with such a great talent for seduction ought to be famous—or at least have a publicist.
She giggled and flopped back into the pillows. For the first time in weeks she felt happy … relaxed … and safe. The outside world didn’t exist when she was on this boat. And with Marcus occupying her thoughts, she had no time for reflection on her past indiscretions.
“Today is a new day,” Eden murmured. Her confidence bolstered, she climbed out of bed and shimmied out of her sundress. A quick search of her cabin turned up a pale blue bikini, one of her more conservative choices in swimwear. She stepped into the bottoms and pulled them up, then slipped into the top. She could go topless, but it would be much more fun to let Marcus fantasize about what was beneath the tiny scraps of fabric—and then let him undress her later.
She wandered through the cabin, listening for Marcus, but the boat was quiet, the clanging of the rigging the only sound. A quick check of the deck turned up nothing. She saw the note on the chalkboard when she stopped in the galley for coffee. “Went to town,” she read. “Be back before lunch. Call me if you need something.” He’d written his cell phone number on the bottom of the note, signing it with an M.
She stared down at his handwriting, running her fingers across the casual scrawl. A fleeting sense of loneliness settled in her heart and Eden brushed it aside. So she’d grown used to having him around. He wasn’t unpleasant to look at and he had a certain masculine charm that she found appealing. But it wouldn’t do to get too attached to him. After all, they moved in different circles and lived in different worlds.
Eden sat down on the sofa, impatient for her day to begin. She didn’t like being alone. When she was alone, her mind wandered to all her troubles, to the horrible stories that were probably being told in the media, to the anger and frustration that her father was no doubt feeling right now. But then, maybe the story hadn’t reached the States.
With a soft curse, Eden stood up and strode to the crew cabin at the bow of the boat, standing outside Marcus’s berth for a long moment before opening the door. She couldn’t help but be curious. He wasn’t much for conversation, so there would probably be very little forthcoming from him. Maybe there were a few clues to the man hidden amongst his belongings. Hesitantly Eden stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
The cabin was small, about a quarter the size of the stateroom she’d taken in the aft section of the yacht. His clothes were scattered all over, draped from the upper bunk and tossed into half-open drawers. Eden grabbed a shirt she recognized and pressed it to her nose. She breathed in a scent of his soap mixed with the fresh smell of salt air.
Twisting the shirt in her hands, she moved to the small cabinet next to the berth and picked through his selection of bedtime reading: a dog-eared paperback by Tom Clancy, two Horatio Hornblower books that she recognized from the ship’s library and a book on antique tools. Beneath the books, Eden found a stack of magazines and flipped through them. “Wooden Boat, Science Digest, The New Yorker,” she read, happy to see there were no girlie magazines. But when she reached the bottom of the pile, Eden froze. “The National Inquisitor.”
Her heart twisted in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. The headline was splashed across the top half of the cover. “Eden’s Sexcapade Caught on Tape.” Below the headline was the horribly grainy photo of her and Ricardo locked in a steamy embrace, the same photo that had appeared in the European magazines. She knew it was her. The Cartier watch was a dead giveaway.
Strange how she’d reached the level of celebrity where she’d become known by her first name only. There was no mistaking who they were talking about. There was only one Eden stupid enough to get herself mixed up in such a mess.
She
