Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
I grit my teeth and shut down the urge to let my eyes drift to her ass again.
I don’t have to like her at all.
The only thing I need to do right now is show her how to kayak well enough so she doesn’t die on the way to the Olympic Peninsula.
That’s it. End of story.
“It’s going to be a long day,” I say. “And it’s going to be hard. Have you eaten?”
“Overnight oats with all the blueberries I could handle. Breakfast of the gods.” She nods, a short, sharp motion. Her eyes remain steady and serious. “But at least the weather’s good today, right?”
I look up.
It’s better than good, basically immaculate.
This is probably the warmest day of the year so far, peppered with intermittent clouds to lend us shade without baking in the sun.
“I wouldn’t have taken you out if it wasn’t,” I mutter.
“So, killing your minions isn’t high on your list of weekend activities? Good to know!” She flashes me the barest hint of a teasing grin. There in a flash and gone.
Then it’s like she remembers who I am and her face shutters.
Whatever.
Fine. We’re not here to bond or fuck around or anything like that.
This is business, plain and simple. An unorthodox chance for a bright young mind to sell me on this conservation tracking while I test out my own technology.
“Have you been on the water much before?” I ask.
“In recent years—for sure. I didn’t go out much when I was a kid for reasons... but once I found my sea legs, I went a little crazy. Boating, jet skis, paragliding, canoeing, you name it.” She hesitates, like she wants to elaborate before shrugging instead. “I’ve never tried kayaking, though. I’ll try to catch on fast.”
I already knew that from the evasive way she answered when I asked her in my office.
I’m regretting this entire venture. No CEO of a company goes to this extent just for a project proposal, and not even a moneymaking one at that.
Even if some part of me wants her to succeed.
I want her to convince me, dammit.
And maybe something about the way her eyes light up when she talks about those damn otters made a difference, too.
“No time like the present.” I nod at the gently lapping waves. “Let’s get started.”
I already know, theoretically, that she can swim.
But as we stride into the water, the sting of the cold muted by my wet suit, it’s easy to see she’s more competent than I’ve given her credit for.
With just a few simple pointers, she knows what she’s doing.
Her fingers trail across the water as it crests against her stomach. She throws me a grin before diving neatly through the surf. Her body cuts through the water like she was born for it, and she surfaces a minute later, flipping her hair back, now darkened to bronze.
Glassy droplets roll down her skin, accenting too much, and I hate that she’s laughing. Real belly laughter.
“The look on your face,” she says, splashing me. “Lighten up.”
Summer or not, this is still the ocean, and she just dove right in without a single complaint about the cold.
I’m almost annoyed.
“Told you I could swim, so we can get that out of the way,” she says. “Are you happy now? Sure I won’t drown?”
“Show me more,” I say, moving alongside her as she goes under again.
My body acclimates to the cold like I’m part penguin. Or maybe my blood just runs hotter than usual from watching her turn into a mermaid.
She might not know how to kayak, but she’s a damned good swimmer.
“Okay,” I say after five or ten minutes. “Enough.”
“Satisfied?” Destiny cocks an eyebrow at me.
Not a good word to use when she’s looking at me like that, her wet suit clinging to every curve.
Shit, at least most of her is still underwater.
I need to stop thinking about sex and focus on the lessons I’m supposed to be giving her.
“We’ll practice technique first,” I say, leading her back to shore. The pebbles shift under my feet, and I swipe my hands through my hair, wiping away the moisture.
Luckily, there’s not much of a breeze, though I know it’ll pick up once we’re out there on the water.
For now, though, it should protect us against any chills.
“Ready when you are.” Destiny rolls her shoulders as she grabs her paddle.
“Not even close. You forgot this.” I tap her pack and show her how to stow it on the kayak so even if it does capsize, she won’t lose everything she’s brought. “Did you bring spare clothes and a sleeping bag like I asked?”
“Obviously. I’m not up for sharing one, dude.”
That wins her an instant scowl.
“And the first aid kit?”
She sighs. “Yes, Mr. Foster. I went over the list you sent me three times like a good student. Oh, and I added some flapjack. Homemade.”