Her lips lifted into a smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist and her eyes fluttered closed.
Bart claimed her lips and his body grew tight and hard, demanding more from her.
She simply moaned and held him.
The kiss ended and she met his gaze with a wink. “If the rest of you is as hot as that kiss, then you don’t have a problem.”
A laugh escaped him. He hadn’t expected… actually he didn’t know what to expect from her.
There was something about Rebecca that fascinated him. He didn’t move, but asked, “And if I sailed away tomorrow and we didn’t speak?”
Her lips turned into a pout. “I’d miss you.”
He released the bow and stood straighter. “But you don’t know me.”
“I know enough.” She stood taller as well. “And I’d be sad.”
He shook his head. Neither one of them should care. Most women he’d known for longer periods of time hadn't left such an impression. Even Francesca, his high school girlfriend, now a happily married mother of three boys, acted like she had better things to do than reminisce. Rebecca he’d known fortwodays. The chip he usually had on his shoulder returned as he asked, “What do you know?”
Her gaze traveled from his toes to his head and landed at his face. “That you’re a good guy who is worth caring about.”
Perhaps it wasn’t fair that he put any stock in words right now. He picked up the full champagne flutes and handed hers back. “Expectations scare me.”
“Why?” She accepted the flute and a spark raced through him from that simple touch.
Normally he steered away from conversations. Perhaps that was why Rebecca threw him off his game. Bart glanced at the moon. “How can I live up to what I don’t know?”
She pivoted a little so she was right in front of him. “Well, I pretty much say what I mean or want. And then, if possible, I go after my goals.”
“I’ve noticed.” He smiled down at Rebecca and into her deep blue eyes.
The last thing he’d ever do was hurt her and she seemed… vulnerable. That was the best word he had for how soft her skin was and those shy glances she gave him. His phone dinged that he had a message, but he ignored it.
She reached for his hand and squeezed. “Good, because that means you know that what I really want isn’t fancy or shiny or anything like that.”
True--and yet she had confidence in herself. The previous women in his life had all ultimately disappeared because their careers and personal goals were more important. Would she eventually do the same? “What is it you want?”
Her mouth curved upward. “I told you already.”
His mind was a blank. She’d talked about a prince charming, which he was never going to be. He kissed her knuckles. “Tell me again, so I understand you.”
She sipped her champagne, letting her hair fall forward as if to hide how her face turned slightly pink. Her blush made her unique. “I want a guy who cares about me and remembers little things that might be trivial to anyone else but are special to us. Love is in the details.”
And like she'd taken a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, he inched backward. “You want to be in love.”
She shrugged. “It’s pretty normal to want that--even for rich people.”
Fair. But she was like a jet on the tarmac seeking to take off, and he wasn’t sure he even believed in that emotion. In a gentle tone he said, “Rebecca, I don’t know…can you see yourself hopping on my yacht and sailing back to Rome with me?”
Her lips pursed, and she shook her head. “I don’t have a passport.”
And he’d had one since he was a boy. They were so different! “See?”
She scoffed. “I can get one easy enough though, right?”
But that didn’t mean that suddenly everything would be okay. He’d called her again despite the warning sign that flashed in his head because no one else had intrigued him in a while, but that wasn’t enough, was it? Not for love. Bart said, “If you have all your paperwork in order--it costs extra.”
She lifted a single shoulder as if she had no worries. “Then I’ll get one.”
