Further inside the cabin was a compact lounge area with a table and some banquette seating, a toilet to the side of that, and further in, a double bed occupied the bow area. A nervous lump formed in Colette’s throat the moment she saw that, but then the boat jerked in the water so she headed back up.

It was about half an hour before Luca dropped anchor, and once the boat was moored and all was calm, he invited her downstairs once again.

“Have a seat,” he requested as he began to roll up his sleeves. “Dinner will be served soon.”

He was cooking for her again, but this time Colette would get to watch him work. Luca truly had magnificent hands. The way they flew across the food as he prepared it. He had obviously learned a lot from his aunt. He had everything perfect, from preparation to plating, and Colette was enthralled by it. He could have been a professional. He should have been.

“You’re really good at that,” she commented as she watched him chop vegetables with deft skill and precision.

“Thank you. I will teach you, if you like. Come here.”

She moved into the tiny kitchen space. He handed her the knife and positioned himself directly behind her.

“It’s all in the placement of your fingers,” he said, his voice low in her ear and sending automatic tingles up her spine. “You must move them like this,” he stated as he curled his fingers over hers. “Then the knife is used in a rocking motion, the tip acting as your pivot point.”

There was something unashamedly sensual in what he was doing and Colette listened distractedly as she allowed his hands to guide her.

She wasn’t trying nearly as much as she was listening to how melodious that accent could make anything sound, and the way he spoke about food with such passion.

She could only begin to imagine what it would be like to feel those hands moving across her bare skin, and realized with a start that she badly wanted to.

Colette swallowed hard.

Chapter 31

Then

“Why don’t you pour some wine and get comfortable back on deck,” Luca suggested as eventually heavy beads of sweat began to form on Colette’s nose. She wasn’t sure if it was from the stove or the heat in her body. “I am almost finished here.”

She reluctantly did so, carrying up the cutlery and wineglasses he handed her.

Back outside on deck, the air was completely still and she had no idea where they actually were, though she could still make out the glittering lights of the coast in the distance.

Once again, she was struck by the romance of it all, and she pinched herself, unable to believe she was sitting in the middle of the Mediterranean on a boat with a gorgeous Italian man who seemed impossibly keen to impress her.