Chapter 10

Pippa needed to get away from River and her overwhelming desire to sink into his arms for a passionate kiss. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he felt the same undeniable pull toward her. But it was so wrong.

Wrong!

After the fiasco with Daniel, she doubted her own good judgment with men. How could she be sure, River wasn’t cut from the same cloth? Sweet-talking her until she succumbed to his charms, only to drop her like a hot potato afterwards. Except he hadn’t even tried to sweet-talk her. He’d been nothing but honest and sincere since the moment they’d met.

In spite of his desire, he’d shied away from the kiss lingering in the air the same way she had. Pippa shook her head and climbed downstairs to the mess he called his office, feeling his hot gaze boring into her back. She half-wished he would give chase, claim her, demand the kiss from her that both of them wanted so much.

She sat at his desk, trying to ignore the churning feeling in her stomach that had intensified with every step she took away from River’s soothing presence. He had a way of making her feel safe – and wanted.

Her fingers flicked through the mountains of papers, neatly piling them into stacks and putting post-it notes with Guests, Customs, Food, and Diving Gear on top of them. She’d never realized how much administrative work went into hosting a weeklong cruise for eight diving guests.

On her father’s yacht they’d always relied on the skipper and crew to have everything ready when they arrived. Just like River’s guests did. Pippa smiled at the thought. No wonder he’d been desperate enough to hire her, because organization definitely wasn’t his strength.

After clearing the desk, she pulled out the pink customs forms for Curacao, surprisingly similar to those of Aruba. Well, they both belong to the Netherlands. She was just finishing the customs forms when River’s ruffled shock of dark hair peeked through the door.

“Hey, we’re about to arrive at the marina in Curacao. Did you find those forms?”

“I think all they need is your signature.” Pippa handed them to him.

River looked them over and gave a low whistle. Then his glance fell on the labeled stacks of paper. “Holy shit! You did all this?”

Pippa nodded and felt herself flush with pride. Seems like I’m not a complete failure after all.

“Can you lend me a hand to get us docked?”

“Sure.” Pippa followed him onto the deck. To her left, the sun hung low over the horizon and cast the ocean into a glowing fire-like orange as the boat slowly sailed northwards. The hinged Queen Emma Bridge was open and River put the Moana in queue behind a huge cruise ship to travel the St. Anna bay. Minutes later the colorful buildings of Willemstad came into view.

Pippa was surprised at how much the skyline reminded one of a small town in the Netherlands, instead of a thriving seaport in the tropics. A surge of excitement hit her as she hung out the fenders while River navigated the boat into the assigned berth. She tied a bowline knot and tossed it expertly over the metals bollard on the dock, yelping a quick “Yes!” when she hit with her first try.

Only after River switched off the motor and grinned at her, did she remember her fear and her mother. A chill ran down her spine as she thought about her mother’s smiling face and the tragic way she’d died, but then River was there, his deep voice dispersing the demons of the past as he asked her to accompany him to the customs office. 

“Be forewarned, this usually takes hours.” He grimaced his displeasure around the expected delay.

“Sounds fun.”

“This may easily be the part I hate most about the business.” River stretched out his hand to help her across the gangway. His empty hand. 

“Did you bring the forms?” she asked.

“Shit, no. I left them lying on the table in the salon.”

“Together with the rest of the needed documents, I assume?”

River shrugged, pulling a guilty face.

“I’ll grab them,” Pippa said and returned below deck to gather all the papers they would need into a manila folder, including the boat papers and both of their passports.

“You really do know about organizing stuff,” River said with a low whistle when she handed him the folder.

Again, heat rushed to her face and her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her. It had been years since someone had actually valued her contributions. Together, they walked the five minutes to the customs office where a sturdy man in a white button-down shirt with brown epaulets and a necktie in the same color stood outside the building chatting with one of the marina guards.

River slowed his gait until Pippa could catch up to his long stride. “He’s the worst of them all. A single type and he’ll have you redo the entire form. Could…maybe…could you speak to him?”

 “Of course,” Pippa said, almost laughing out loud. Apparently, she wasn’t the only person afraid of something. She took the manila folder from River’s hands and approached the uniformed man with a friendly smile. “Bon tardi.”

The official seemed surprised at her use of the local Papiamentu language, but then broke out into a toothy grin and waved her and River inside his office. After a few minutes of chit-chat the officer glanced over the customs forms and sealed them with his official stamp, handing them back to her and wishing them a pleasant stay.

“Masha danki,” she thanked him and turned to River with a proud smile on her face. “We’re all set. He said to tell you the water is full of life right now and to enjoy your dive tomorrow.”

“We’re finished here?” River asked with disbelief in his eyes.

“Yep.” Pippa passed through the door he held open for her, and walked into the direction of the boat, but River stopped her after a few feet and spun her around. He held his hand up for a high five and she returned it with a chuckle. “What’s that all about?”

“I have never gotten through customs so easily or so quickly.” He looked like a boy who’d ditched school and gotten away with it.

Pippa pulled her arm back, little electric tingles running up and lodging in her spine. “It helps to speak the language.”

“I guess. Let’s go get a drink before we return to the boat,” he suggested, pointing at the colorful town.

Pippa eyed him and asked, “Aren’t you diving tomorrow?”

“Non-alcoholic for me,” he assured her, giving her a thoughtful glance. Probably surprised that she would know to ask.

She could see the questions building in his eyes and deflected instead. “That sounds good. Where should we go?”

“I know just the place. Come with me.” River stopped in front of a local tavern in the town center and held the door open for her. Then he ordered a non-alcoholic cocktail for himself and she asked for the same.

Given her intense attraction to him, she decided that drinking while around him would be asking for trouble.

“So, how did you come to speak Papiamentu? It’s not exactly a language most people learn to speak.”

“That’s true. I was raised by a nanny from Aruba and she spoke her native language a lot.” Pippa smiled at the memory of the kind, warm-hearted woman who’d practically raised her. “I picked it up easily and we talked in her language. It gave her a sense of being home. Of course, away from my mother’s very perceptive eyes.”

“Your mother had a problem with you learning a foreign language?” River asked.

“No, my mother had an aversion to me learning what she considered the language of the servants. French. Dutch. Portuguese. Spanish. German. Those were fine, but Papiamentu was beneath me, according to her.”

“So, you were a rebel and learned it anyway,” he surmised with a wink.

Pippa nodded, a bit of sadness filling her soul as she thought about her mother. River must have picked up on it because a moment later he touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

She looked up into his caring eyes and the attraction that had been simmering between them burst to life. Her breathing stalled and her heart raced, and suddenly, there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room.

“Excuse me.” Pippa slipped from the barstool and escaped into the ladies’ room. She bent over the washbasin and splashed cold water over her face. Ohmygod, I’m so in over my head. There’s no way I can resist him.

But it would be the most stupid thing in the world to fall for the desirable man who was her boss, when she’d just freed herself from the clutches of a miserable marriage.