* * *
Brice took his time pulling on his jeans, looking at his disheveled boyhood bed. It had never seen the kind of action that had taken place this afternoon, and he felt oddly glad about that. This boat only held good memories, memories of people he cared about, and the memories he'd hold onto from today would fit easily among the older ones.
As he finished dressing, he marveled at how quickly he'd come to care about the woman who had orchestrated today's activities. She could have easily gone overboard, tried to impress him with luxury and flash. The budget he'd named had been big enough for something outlandish. But instead of blowing ridiculous sums on meaningless opulence, she'd planned a day in which they could spend time together in a shared activity, learning more about one another while enjoying nature. He wondered if she knew how close she was to the real Brice, not the millionaire playboy she thought he was.
He spotted her immediately when he came on deck. She was staring out over the waters, taking in the endless green of pines and the steel blue of the lake. Brice wanted to walk up behind her, to pull her back into his arms and press infinite tiny kisses on the line that ran from her shoulder blade to her ear while muttering "Rule #3 be damned!" But he didn't. He couldn't. He was playing to win, and that meant he had to abide by the seemingly intolerable rules that he himself had set. It wasn't about the prize, although he was eager to collect that as well. It was instead about showing Janna what kind of man he really was.
Although he'd initially been attracted to her for her outlandish outburst about the nature of the wealthy at his party, the realization that perhaps she really saw him this way began to grate quickly. Now Brice was determined to show her exactly who he was, to put her preconceptions to rest so that she would surrender herself fully to his ample charms. After all, being rich doesn't necessarily make one arrogant, and it was perfectly acceptable to acknowledge one's talents, after all.
Smiling to himself he walked to Janna's side and pulled her attention away from the beauty of their surroundings. "Wishing you had your paints?" he asked quietly, and she rewarded him with her smile, making his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.
"There's no time for that. You've got to help me get this heap steered homeward, or the very strict arbiter of our wager will use our tardiness as an excuse to disqualify me."
"I don't think said arbiter is as unreasonable as you say."
"Oh, he definitely is," she drawled. "One tiny infraction and BAM!" she clapped her hands for effect, "Disqualified."
"What a brute." Brice brushed a flyaway curl the color of burnished gold behind her ear. "I'm sure he'd be willing to let it slide, just this once. In any event, we won't be tardy if you help me raise these sails. Seems like there's more wind this afternoon, so we should make good time back to shore."
"Great," Janna purred. "I'd hate to make the brute angry."
"I'm sure." Brice rolled his eyes.
They worked to raise the sails and move back across the lake. Their conversation was sparse, comfortable, like the gentle rocking of the waves. Brice didn't have to say anything, he could just exist by her side, and a feeling of intense calm would wash over him. She was equally silent, letting her sapphire eyes apprise him of her mood. He'd never felt this at peace with a woman before Janna, never this quiet connection. He'd give anything to hold on to this feeling, to hold on to her.
Before long the marina came into view, and Brice skillfully maneuvered the boat into its moorings. He escorted his date onto the dock and led her back to the waiting limo. "As long as the driver can make it back to the estate in one hour, the time limit will remain intact."
"What do you say, Chase," Janna asked, elbowing the driver as he held the door open for them. "Can we make it?"
"No problem," he said with a wink, causing her to giggle.
Motivated by a small, sudden spike of jealousy, Brice tugged her into the vehicle and onto his lap, imprisoning her in his arms. "If Chase is going to have to break the speed limit to get us back in time, I'd rather have you sit here, so I can keep you safe."
"M-hm," she said, her tone doubtful. "Wouldn't I be safer if I were buckled up in the seat over there?" she asked, pointing to the bench seat opposite them.
"Perhaps in a regular sedan or sports car, but in a limousine, the safest place is right here, on my lap."
"Do you provide this service for all your passengers, or perhaps to any limousine passenger in general, regardless of whether you own the car or not?"
"I would, you know," he said dryly, "but it leaves me so little time to squander money in the casinos or dirty dance with supermodels at expensive nightclubs."
Janna laughed. "Why, one would almost think you were joking, Mr. Masterson."
"I never joke about dirty dancing, Miss Puchina."
The ride home was a light-hearted affair. Some might even call it a romp. Brice tried unsuccessfully to keep Janna on his lap while she teased him mercilessly and found ways of escaping his "lusty questing," as she'd called it in a fit of giggles. In what seemed like only minutes they were pulling up in front of the entrance to Brice's mansion. The mood became more somber as he helped her out of the limo and walked her toward her waiting Volvo.
"Are you sure this beast is road-worthy?" he asked, eyeing the rusting contraption skeptically.
"Always has been so far," she replied, tugging the door open and climbing inside before he could grab her again.
Brice smiled but refused to let go of her door. He crouched down, leaning into her car and capturing her lips in a kiss filled with longing. "You shall receive your instructions for tomorrow via email this evening. Please follow them as faithfully as I've followed yours."
"Of course," she said, her eyes slightly dazed after his kiss.
"Goodnight, Miss Puchina."
"Goodnight, Mister Masterson."