Jayne stretched her arms overhead as she languished on the soft, thick-piled sunbed on the top deck of Rupe’s boat. All around, the deep-blue waters of the Caribbean gently rocked her, and above, the sun beat down as it had for the past nine days. As it dipped lower in the sky, the heat began to recede.

“I can’t believe we’ll be docking in Miami tomorrow and then flying home,” she said as one of Rupe’s deckhands topped up her mojito.

Rupe lazily turned on to his side, his deeply tanned body making his abs even more pronounced. For God’s sake, stop it, Jayne. Ever since they’d left Turks and Caicos, she’d found it harder and harder to stop her fingers from reaching out and exploring every ridge, every muscle.

The more time they’d spent together, the less she wanted to be just friends. That was what he’d offered, and that was what she’d accepted. A deal had been struck. Yet all she wanted was to add a codicil to their unwritten contract—something along the lines of “Screw friends. Just screw.”

She repressed a giggle. She’d definitely changed these last few days. The heavy weight she’d carried on her shoulders from the pressure of her job and the deep hurt from Kyle’s betrayal had been blown away on the warm Caribbean breeze. Maybe it was because she’d finally signed the divorce papers—or maybe it was the sun and the sea, the good food and good wine.

Or maybe it was being with Rupe.

“You know, for a blonde, you tan well, Janey,” he said, his eyes half-closed as he looked at her.

“Janey?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Rupe raised himself up on an elbow. “That name suits you better out here. Once we get back to London, you’ll reassume the serious-lawyer armour plating, and it’ll be back to ‘anything but’ plain old Jayne.”

Jayne rolled her eyes even though she’d been having the same thoughts herself not one minute earlier. She pushed herself upright and took a sip of her mojito.

“Isn’t plain old Jayne good enough for you any more, buddy?” she said with a grin.

“I said anything but plain old Jayne. And if I’m honest, I’ll take you any way I can get you.” His face grew serious. “It’s been good to see you let your hair down and relax. It suits you.” He rolled on to his back and laced his arms behind his head as he closed his eyes against the bright sun.

An uncomfortable feeling stirred in Jayne’s chest. The conversation had taken a turn in the direction she wanted to go but was scared to tread. Deciding she needed to lighten the atmosphere, she scooped an ice cube out of her glass and dropped it on his belly. He yelped and leaped to his feet, and Jayne did the same. She ran around the other side of the pool, but Rupe was too quick, and before she could plead her case, he picked her up and threw her into the water.

Jayne came up choking and spluttering. She pushed wet hair off her face and pointed at Rupe, who was doubled over with laughter at the side of the pool.

“You are a dead man,” she said.

He laughed harder and threw his arms out to the side. “Come and get me if you think you’re tough enough.”

Jayne swam to the side and climbed out of the water. She expected Rupe to run, but instead, he gathered her in his arms and jumped back into the pool.

When the pair of them surfaced, Jayne shoved him hard in the shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

Rupe grinned inanely at her. “But a fun idiot.”

“That’s debatable,” Jayne muttered.

He laughed, turned away from her, and began to swim lengths of the pool. Jayne leaned against the side and watched as his lean, lithe body cut through the water. You’re on dangerous ground, Jayne. Her feelings were changing, deepening. This was no longer about great sex, although just how amazing the sex had been the one time they’d slept together constantly drifted into her mind and made her stomach clench with need. Was she ready? Could she trust her patched-up heart with this man? Therein lay the problem, because she just didn’t know.

After an early dinner, Jayne made a lame excuse about too much sun and headed off to her stateroom. She took a quick shower and changed for bed. As she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind wouldn’t stop whirring. She closed her eyes, but the image of Rupe’s tanned, tightly honed body kept playing on a loop behind her lids.

She pushed herself upright and turned on the lamp beside the bed. Her iPad called to her, and despite promising herself a full ten days off, she opened her email account. A few things had blown up at work. Jayne scanned for the most pressing ones and answered them, even though Darren would most likely give her a telling-off when he logged on in the morning.

What should I do now? She picked up a book, but after realising she’d flicked through several pages without being able to recall one single word, she put it back down.

If she went to Rupe, what was the worst thing that could happen?

He could reject her—unlikely, given his previous comments—or he might welcome her with open arms and they could spend the night exploring every inch of each other’s bodies.

But what if she freaked out like last time? On the yacht, there was nowhere to run to. She couldn’t exactly dive overboard and swim for shore. God, this is so frustrating.

She covered her face with her hands and rubbed hard. She was thirty-two years old and procrastinating over a bloody man. She wanted him. There, she’d said it. She wanted him more than any other man she’d ever slept with. Not that she’d been with a whole lot. Five, if she counted that one ill-fated night with Rupe. It wasn’t as if she had a hundred men to compare him to, but still… the reactions, sensations, and noises he’d drawn from her were all new experiences. She’d always believed movie sex, or the sex found in romance novels, was just make-believe. But Rupe had demonstrated, with significant expertise, that it was possible to experience that kind of sex in real life—with the right man.

Oh, fuck it.

Jayne climbed off the bed and made for the door, but as she passed the floor-to-ceiling mirror, she stopped. If she was going to do this, then she was all-in. She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it over her head. She crossed over to the chest of drawers and opened the top one. Nestled between her everyday underwear was the set she’d been wearing when they’d slept together for the first time. The only time.

She donned the lingerie and stood in front of the mirror once more. Her tan made the outfit look even sexier than the last time, although she wished she had a bit more up top. Still, Rupe hadn’t seemed to care, if memory served her right.

She opened the door to her stateroom and peeked into the corridor. Silence. There was a slight chance that she could bump into a member of staff, which would be highly embarrassing, but the risk was small, and Rupe’s room was less than forty feet away.

Holy hell, I’m doing this.

Jayne dashed down the corridor and knocked on Rupe’s door. She heard a scuffle from within before Rupe opened it.

“What the fu—”

Jayne cut off Rupe’s exclamation with her mouth. She hooked her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Pulling back, she fixed a gaze on his startled expression.

“I’m ready,” she said.