and were waiting for Captain Delaney and his crew to finish allocating the snorkelling equipment before they dived in.
Ella had to be grateful for the respite, because sitting in such close proximity to the man for twenty minutes had caused her usually sedentary hormones to get sort of hyperactive.
‘Do you know Captain Delaney?’ she asked, hoping to deflect the conversation while studiously ignoring the blip in her heartbeat.
After careful consideration, she’d figured out that Captain Delaney’s attention had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his job. She was the only single passenger on the boat, and he was just being conscientious, ensuring she got her money’s worth and enjoyed the trip. They hadn’t been able to talk much on the ride out because of the engine noise, thankfully. Those sexy—and she was sure entirely impersonal—smiles he kept flashing at her were more than enough to tie her tongue in knots. A reaction that had propelled her back in time to the excruciating crushes of her teens when she’d always been rendered speechless in the presence of good-looking boys.
This was precisely why she preferred guys who were homely and safe rather than dangerous and super-hot. Being struck dumb on a date could get old really fast.
‘We’ve known Coop for nearly a decade,’ the woman said in her friendly mid-western drawl. ‘Bill and I been coming back to St George every year since our honeymoon in ninety-two. And we never miss The Jezebel’s snorkel tour. Coop used to work as a deck hand for Sonny as a kid, got his captain’s stripes a while back. Now he just pitches in from time to time.’ The woman offered a hand. ‘Name’s May Preston.’
‘Ella Radley, nice to meet you.’ Ella shook the woman’s hand, comforted by her open face, and easy manner—and intrigued despite herself by the unsolicited insight into the hot captain’s past.
She recognised May from the resort. May and her husband Bill, whom she liked too, because he was one of the few married men at Paradiso Cove who didn’t have a roving eye.
‘You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you? And with that lovely accent.’ May tilted her head, assessing Ella in that direct and personal way that only American tourists seemed able to do without appearing rude. ‘I must say, I’ve always wondered what Coop’s type was. But you’re quite a surprise.’
The blush headed towards Ella’s hairline. ‘I wouldn’t say I’m his type.’ Perish the thought; her heart would probably stop beating if she believed that. She might find him extremely attractive, but dangerous men had never been good for her mental health. ‘It’s just that I’m a woman on my own and he’s being polite and doing a good job.’
May let out a hearty chuckle. ‘Don’t you believe it, honey. Coop’s not the polite type. And he usually spends his time peeling the single female clients off him, not offering them a personal service.’
‘I’m sure you’re wrong about that.’ Far from stopping, Ella’s heartbeat hit warp speed—stunned disbelief edging out her embarrassment.
‘Maybe, maybe not.’ May’s smile took on a saucy tilt, which was about as far from doubtful as it was possible to get. ‘But this is the first I’ve ever heard of the snorkel-buddy safety rule. And that’s after twenty years of coming on this tour.’
* * *
Ella bided her time while wrestling with May’s shocking comment, until the captain and his two deckhands had seen off all the other snorkellers. While fitting fins and masks, giving instructions about how far to stray from the boat, demonstrating some basic hand signals, advising people on how long they had before they should head back, and how to identify the paddle wheel from the wreck of the sunken blockade runner they’d come to see, Cooper Delaney appeared to be the consummate professional. In fact, he seemed so relaxed and pragmatic while handling the other passengers, Ella convinced herself May had to be mistaken about the snorkel-buddy rule—and wondered if she should even question him about it. Wouldn’t she sound impossibly vain, bordering on delusional, suggesting he’d offered to partner her for reasons other than her own safety?
But then he turned from the rail, took off his sunglasses and his slow, seductive smile had all the blood pumping back into her nether regions.
She fanned herself with her sunhat. Goodness, either she was suffering from sunstroke or that smile had some kind of secret thermal mechanism.
He crossed the deck towards her, his emerald gaze even brighter than the dazzling expanse of crystal blue water.
‘So, Miz Radley, you want to strip down to your swimsuit and I’ll get you fitted up, then we can head out?’
He leaned against the console, his large capable hand very close to her hip.
She sucked in a sharp breath as her lungs constricted, only to discover the fresh sweat darkening the front of his T-shirt made his salt and sandalwood scent even more intoxicating.
Courage, Ella, just make a general enquiry so you know for sure where you stand.
‘Is that absolutely necessary?’ she asked.
‘’Fraid so. The salt water’s bound to ruin that pretty dress if you don’t take it off. You didn’t forget your swimsuit, did you?’ His smile tipped into a grin.
‘No, I meant us snorkelling together.’ Her nipples shot back to the full torpedo as his gaze drifted south. ‘Is that necessary?’
One dark eyebrow lifted in puzzled enquiry, the smile still in place.
‘It’s just that May Preston said she’d never heard of that rule.’ The words tripped over themselves to get out of her mouth before her tongue knotted again. ‘You know, about it being necessary for people to snorkel in pairs for safety’s sake...’ She began to babble, her tongue overcompensating somewhat. ‘I know it matters with scuba-diving. Even though I’ve never actually scuba-dived myself...’ She cut off as his lips curved more.
Get to the point, Ella.
‘I just...I wondered if you could confirm for me, why it’s necessary for us to be snorkel buddies? If I’m only going to be a few yards from the boat?’
‘Right.’
The word rumbled out and seemed to echo in her abdomen. He muttered something under his breath, then tugged off his captain’s cap, revealing curls of thick sun-streaked hair damp with sweat flattened against his forehead.
‘What I can confirm...’ he slapped the cap against his thigh, the smile becoming more than a little sheepish ‘...is that May Preston’s got one hell of a big mouth. Which I’m going to be having words with her about as soon as she gets back aboard this boat.’
‘It’s true?’ Ella’s eyes widened, her jaw going slack. ‘You really did make it up? But why would you do that?’
* * *
Cooper Delaney watched the pretty English girl’s baby blues grow even larger in her delicate, heart-shaped face—and began to wonder if he was being taken for a ride.
Shy and hot and totally lost, with that tempting overbite, and her lush but petite figure, Ella Radley had looked cute and sort of sad when he’d spotted her at the back of the boarding line an hour ago. Then her skin had flushed a ruddy pink as soon as he’d so much as smiled at her and she’d totally captivated him.
That nuclear blush had been so damn cute, in fact, that he’d been momentarily mesmerised and the snorkel-buddy rule had popped into his head and then spilled out of his mouth without his brain ever even considering intervening.
But seriously? Could any woman really be this clueless? Even if she did have eyes big enough to rival one of the heroines in the manga comic books he’d been addicted to in middle school? And her nipples peaked under her sundress every time he so much as glanced at her rack? And her cheeks seemed to be able to light up on cue?
No way. No one was that cute. It had to be an act.
But if it was an act, it was a damn