Chapter 19 (2/2)

”Can I get you anything?” I ask. He smiles his sweet shy smile.

”No, baby, I'm good,” he says. ”The crew will look after me.”

”Okay.” I want to kiss him. Hell, I can - he's my husband. Strolling purposefully forward, I plant a kiss on his lips, surprising him.

”Andrea, I'll call you back,” he mutters. He puts the BlackBerry down on the desk behind him, pulls me into his embrace, and kisses me passionately. I am breathless when he releases me. His eyes are dark and needy.

”You're distracting me. I need to sort this, so I can get back to my honeymoon.” He runs an index finger down my face and caresses my chin, tilting my face up.

”Okay. I'm sorry.”

”Please don't apologize, Mrs. Grey. I love your distractions.” He kisses the corner of my mouth.

”Go spend some money.” He releases me.

”Will do.” I smirk at him as I exit his study. My subconscious shakes her head and purses her lips. You didn't tell him you were going on the Jet Ski, she chastises me in her singsong voice. I ignore her . . . Harpy.

Taylor is patiently waiting.

”That's all cleared with high command . . . can we go?” I smile, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Taylor doesn't hide his admiring smile.

”Mrs. Grey, after you.”

Taylor patiently talks me through the controls on the Jet Ski and how to ride it. He has a calm, gentle authority about him; he's a good teacher. We are in the motor launch, bobbing and weaving on the calm waters of the harbor beside the Fair Lady. Gaston looks on, his expression hidden by his shades, and one of the Fair Lady's crew is at the controls of the motor launch. Jeez - three people with me, just because I want to go shopping. It's ridiculous.

Zipping up my life jacket, I give Taylor a beaming grin. He holds out his hand to assist me as I climb onto the Jet Ski.

”Fasten the strap of the ignition key around your wrist, Mrs. Grey. If you fall off, the engine will cut out automatically,” he explains.

”Okay.”

”Ready?'

I nod enthusiastically.

”Press the ignition when you've drifted about four feet away from the boat. We'll follow you.”

”Okay.”

He pushes the Jet Ski away from the launch, and it floats gently into the main harbor. When he gives me the okay sign, I press the ignition button and the engine roars into life.

”Okay, Mrs. Grey, easy does it!” Taylor shouts. I squeeze the accelerator. The Jet Ski lurches forward then stalls. Crap! How does Christian make it look so easy? I try again, and once again, I stall. Double crap!

”Just steady on the gas, Mrs. Grey,” Taylor calls.

”Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I mutter under my breath. I try once more, very gently squeezing the lever, and the Jet Ski lurches forward - but this time it keeps going. Yes! It goes some more. Ha ha! It still keeps going!

I want to shout and squeal in excitement, but I resist. I cruise gently away from the yacht into the main harbor. Behind me, I hear the throaty roar of the motor launch. When I squeeze the gas further, the Jet Ski leaps forward, skating across the water. With the warm breeze in my hair and a fine sea spray on either side of me, I feel free. This rocks! No wonder Christian never lets me drive.