Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.” She sniffs primly, but then tilts her head in curiosity. “What’s up? You never interrupt my work.”
“Kynan just called. They’re sending a team after the arms dealers who are still in Oman.”
“The man who tried to kidnap me still isn’t talking?”
I shake my head. “I think they’re pretty convinced he doesn’t really know anything. At any rate, they’re turning him over to the cops.”
Barrett’s gaze slides off to stare blankly at the wall. Her voice is flat when she says, “So we’re going to be stuck here a while, right?”
“Probably,” I say, then I take her upper arm and force her to stand from her chair. “Which is why, every afternoon—right around this time each day—you are going to take a break. You work at that table for too long, and it’s not good for you. I demand at least half an hour, but I’d be happier if you committed to at least an hour break.”
“Cruce,” she whines, trying to flop back down in the chair. “I can’t. I’m getting close to something.”
“And you’ll continue getting closer after your break,” I say staunchly, bending to physically pick her up in my arms. Pivoting, I carry her straight to the master suite. Once inside, I set her down.
“Now, go put on your finest set of panties that will pass as a bathing suit, and let’s go.”
“I don’t want to just go lay on the beach. That’s not relaxing to me when I want to work.”
“Which is why we’re taking the boat out and doing some snorkeling,” I cut in, enjoying the way her mouth snaps shut. I nod toward the dresser, where we’d unpacked all of our clothing. “Now… get changed.”
♦
Barrett climbs out of the water in her raspberry-colored bra and panties. I’m not about to tell her the material is now slightly transparent. I can’t help scanning her body, but I quickly avert my eyes as I help her back into the boat.
It turns out the woman who spent her vacations in museums as a child has a serious case of snorkel love. I had to make her get out of the water as the sun was starting to set because I wanted to head back around the island soon.
We hadn’t gone far on our adventure, just to the other side of the island where I couldn’t get within a few hundred yards of the shore because of the reefs, but the snorkeling there was fantastic. I lost track of the amount of times Barrett grinned at me around her snorkel.
Now, she flops onto one of the cabin seats at the rear of the boat. She removes her mask first, then her fins. I do the same before pulling out a couple of bottles of water from a cooler I’d packed, handing one over to her.
Grinning, she settles against the cushion. “That was freaking awesome.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” I murmur, holding my bottle of water up to her in a silent toast.
“Can we come back out tomorrow?” she asks with excitement.
“I told you… you’re getting up from that table to take a break every damn day, so if you want to snorkel each day, that works for me.”
“The colors down there are so vibrant and amazing,” she murmurs with a slightly disbelieving shake of her head.
“Australia,” I say. “You need to snorkel there. Their reefs are amazing.”
“Consider it now officially on my bucket list,” she replies with a laugh. Pausing and seeming to consider something, she then starts laughing harder.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“It’s just… I really don’t have a bucket list. That was my first item really.”
“All work and no play makes Barrett not have a bucket list,” I croon with a chuckle.
“I need one, though,” she says with contemplation, her smile slipping a little. “I guess if there’s one thing this little adventure has taught me it’s there’s a lot to life I’ve been missing out on.”
I nod, throwing her a little sage advice despite the fact she hasn’t asked for any. “Don’t lead your life with regrets. Don’t wake up one day and say, ‘I wish I would have’.”
She nods solemnly. “Yeah… if I were to die tomorrow, I think I’d have some.”
“Like?” I prompt.
She gives me a halfhearted shrug as she glances down at her bottle a moment, before giving me her pretty eyes. “I guess one would be not having enough fun. Not having a childhood. Not having friends. It’s been school and work and nothing else. Just this little bit of forced time away from my office has been a bit of an eye opener.”
“I can imagine,” I say in agreement, happy she’s realizing something important about herself.
“What about you?” she asks. I blink in surprise, not sure exactly what her question is about.
“What about me what?”
“Regrets,” she says, lifting her chin. “If you were to die tomorrow, would you have any major regrets?”