Chapter 69 (1/2)

“I hope so.”

Ana is deep in a passionate discussion with Kavanagh. What are those two women talking about?

“You still get out much to fish?” I refocus on Mr. Steele.

“Sure do. Annie’s friend José, his father, and I sneak out as often as we can.”

The fucking photographer! Again?

“He’s the guy that looks after the Beetle?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Great car, the Beetle. I’m a fan of German-made cars.”

“Yeah? Annie loves that old car, but I guess it’s getting past its sell-by date.”

“Funny you should mention that. I was thinking of loaning her one of my company cars. Do you think she’d go for it?”

“I guess. That would be up to Annie, mind.”

“Great. I take it Ana’s not into fishing.”

“No. That girl takes after her mother. She couldn’t stomach seeing the fish suffer. Or the worms, for that matter. She’s a gentle soul.” He gives me a pointed look. Oh. A warning from Raymond Steele. I turn it into a joke.

“No wonder she wasn’t keen on the cod we ate the other day.”

Steele chuckles. “She’s fine with eating them.”

Ana has finished talking to the Kavanaghs and is heading our way. “Hi,” she says, beaming at us.

“Annie, where are the restrooms?” Steele asks.

She directs him to go outside the pavilion and to the left.

“See you in a moment. You kids enjoy yourselves,” he says.

She watches him go, then peers nervously up at me. But before she or I can say anything we’re interrupted by a photographer. She snaps a quick still of us together before hurrying away.

“So you’ve charmed my father as well?” Ana says, her voice sweet and teasing.

“As well?” Have I charmed you, Miss Steele?

With my fingers I trace the rosy flush that appears on her cheek. “Oh, I wish I knew what you were thinking, Anastasia.” When my fingers reach her chin I tilt her head back so I can scrutinize her expression. She stills and stares back at me, her pupils darkening.

“Right now,” she whispers, “I’m thinking, nice tie.”

I was expecting some kind of declaration; her response makes me laugh. “It’s recently become my favorite.”

She smiles.

“You look lovely, Anastasia. This halter-neck dress suits you, and I get to stroke your back, feel your beautiful skin.”

Her lips part and her breath hitches, and I can feel the pull of the attraction between us.

“You know it’s going to be good, don’t you, baby?” My voice is low, betraying my longing.

She closes her eyes, swallows, and takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, she’s radiating anxiety. “But I want more,” she says.

“More?”

Fuck. What is this?