“Who are you and what have you done with Christian?”
“He’s not very far away, baby,” I answer, and anxiety knots like ivy around my heart. “You’ll see him soon enough, especially if you don’t get up.” I smack her ass so that she laughs and yelps at once.
“You had me worried.” She feigns concern.
“Did I, now? You do give off some mixed signals, Anastasia. How’s a man supposed to keep up?” I give her a swift kiss. “Laters, baby.” I leave her to get dressed.
Mac arrives five minutes later, and together we get the dinghy fastened onto its rig at the stern.
“How was your friend?” I ask.
“In good spirits.”
“You could have stayed longer,” I say.
“And miss the trip back?”
“Yes.”
“Nah, I can’t stay away from this lady too long,” Mac says, and he pats the hull of The Grace.
I grin. “I get it.”
My phone buzzes.
“Taylor,” I answer, and Ana opens the sliding doors to the saloon. She’s holding her life jacket.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Grey. The apartment is clear,” Taylor says.
I pull Ana close and kiss her hair. “That’s great news.”
“We’ve been through every room.”
“Good.”
“We’ve also been through all the CCTV footage of the last three days.”
“Yes.”
“It’s been illuminating.”
“Really?”
“Miss Williams was coming through the stairwell.”
“The fire-escape stairwell?”
“Yes. She had a key and climbed all those floors to get there.”
“I see.” Wow, that’s some climb.
“The locks have been changed and it’s safe for you to return. We have your luggage. Will you be coming back this evening?”
“Yes.”
“When can we expect you?”
“Tonight.”
“Very good, sir.”
I hang up and Mac fires up the engines.
“Time to head back.” I give Ana a swift kiss and strap her into her life jacket.
ANA IS A KEEN and willing deckhand. Between us, we hoist and stow the mainsail, the headsheet, and the spinney while Mac steers. I teach her how to tie three knots. This she’s not so good at, and I find it hard to keep a straight face.
“I may tie you up one day,” she promises.
“You’ll have to catch me first, Miss Steele.” It’s a long time since anyone tied me up, and I’m not sure I’d like it anymore. I shudder, thinking how defenseless I’d be against her touch. “Shall I give you a more thorough tour of The Grace?”
“Please, she’s so beautiful.”
ANA STANDS IN MY arms at the wheel, just before we make the turn into the marina. She looks so happy.
And that makes me happy.
She’s been fascinated by The Grace and all that I’ve shown her. Even the engine room.
It’s been fun. I take a deep breath, the salt water in the air cleansing my soul. And I’m reminded of a quote from one of my favorite books— a memoir, Wind, Sand and Stars. “?‘There is a poetry of sailing as old as the world,’?” I murmur in her ear.
“That sounds like a quote.”
“It is. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.”
“Oh, I adore The Little Prince.”
“Me, too.”
I pilot us into the marina, then slowly turn The Grace and reverse into the berth. The crowd that gathered to watch has dispersed by the time Mac jumps onto the dock and ties the stern lines to two dock cleats.
“Back again,” I say to Ana, and, as usual, I’m a little reluctant to leave The Grace.
“Thank you. That was a perfect afternoon.”
“I thought so, too. Perhaps we can enroll you in sailing school, so we can go out for a few days, just the two of us.”
Or we could sail around the world, Ana, just you and me.
“I’d love that. We can christen the bedroom again and again.”
I kiss her under her ear. “Hmm, I look forward to it, Anastasia.” She squirms with pleasure. “Come, the apartment is clean. We can go back.”
“What about our things at the hotel?”
“Taylor has collected them already. Earlier today, after he did a sweep of The Grace with his team.”
“Does that poor man ever sleep?”
“He sleeps. He’s just doing his job, Anastasia, which he’s very good at. Jason is a real find.”
“Jason?”
“Jason Taylor.”
Ana’s smile is tender.
“You’re fond of Taylor,” I observe.
“I suppose I am. I think Taylor looks after you very well. That’s why I like him. He seems kind, reliable, and loyal. He has an avuncular appeal to me.”
“Avuncular?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, avuncular.”
Ana laughs. “Oh, Christian, grow up, for heaven’s sake.”
What?
She’s scolding me.
Why?
Because I’m possessive? Maybe that’s childish.
Maybe. “I’m trying,” I respond.
“That you are. Very,” she says, looking toward the ceiling.
“What memories you evoke when you roll your eyes at me, Anastasia.”
“Well, if you behave yourself, maybe we can relive some of those memories.”
“Behave myself? Really, Miss Steele—what makes you think I want to relive them?”
“Probably the way your eyes lit up like Christmas when I said that.”
“You know me so well already,” I say.
“I’d like to know you better.”
“And I you, Anastasia. Come, let’s go.” Mac has lowered the gangplank, allowing me to lead Ana onto the dock. “Thanks, Mac.” I shake his hand.
“Always a pleasure, Mr. Grey, and good-bye. Ana, great to meet you.”
“Good day, Mac, and thank you,” Ana replies, and she looks a little shy.
Together Ana and I walk up to the promenade, leaving Mac on The Grace.
“Where’s Mac from?” Ana asks.
“Ireland. Northern Ireland.”
“Is he your friend?”
“Mac? He works for me. Helped build The Grace.”
“Do you have many friends?”
What would I need friends for?
“Not really. Doing what I do. I don’t cultivate friendships. There’s only—” Shit. I stop myself. I don’t want to mention Elena. “Hungry?” I ask, feeling food might be a safer topic.
Ana nods.
“We’ll eat where I left the car. Come.”
ANA AND I ARE seated at a table in Bee’s, an Italian bistro next to SP’s. She reads the menu while I take a sip of a fine chilled Frascati. I like watching her read.
“What?” Ana asks when she looks up.
“You look lovely, Anastasia. The outdoors agrees with you.”
“I feel rather windburned, to tell the truth. But I had a lovely afternoon. A perfect afternoon. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, Anastasia. You know that.”
“You don’t seem to have many friends. Why is that?”
“I told you, I don’t really have time. I have business associates, though that’s very different from friendships, I suppose. I have my family, and that’s it.” I shrug. “Apart from Elena.”
Thankfully, she ignores my Elena comment. “No male friends your own age that you can go out with and let off steam?”
No. Just Elliot.
“You know how I like to let off steam, Anastasia.” My voice is low. “And I’ve been working, building up the business. That’s all I do, except sail and fly occasionally.” And fuck, of course.
“Not even in college?”
“Not really.”
“Just Elena, then?”
I nod. Where is she going with this?