A Devil in Disguise by Caitlin Crews Read Free Book Online

or this insane longing for her that stormed through him, making him so hard it bordered on the painful and, moreover, a stranger to himself.
He didn’t want any of this.
But that dark drum that he told himself was only temper beat ever hotter inside of him, making him a liar yet again.
    “I mean Miss Bennett, of course,” the crew memberbeside him, the head steward if Cayo was not mistaken, all but stammered. “Forgive me, sir, but has she … fallen? Shouldn’t we go and help her?”
    “That is an excellent question,” Cayo muttered.
    He watched her for a long, tense moment, out there in the blue sweep of water, her strokes long and sure. He was very nearly forced to admire the willfulness and sheer bloody-mindedness she’d displayed today. Was still displaying, in fact. To say nothing of her grace and skill in the water, even fully dressed. He had to fight with himself to get his body under control, to force away the thick, near-liquid desire that still pumped through him and
that thing
in him that was far too alert now and would not have stopped at that kiss. Oh, no. That had been the sort of kiss that started scorching affairs, and had it not been Drusilla, he would not even have thought twice—he would have taken her there and then, on the floor of the salon if necessary.
    And up against the wall. And down among the soft pillows in the seating area. And again and again, just to test all that shocking chemistry that had blown up around them—that he had told himself he’d forgotten entirely until it was all he could think of all over again. Just to see what they could make of it.
    But it
was
Drusilla.
    Cayo had always been a practical man. Deliberate and focused in all he did. He had never varied from the path he’d set himself; he’d never been tempted to try. Except for one unfortunate slip in Cadiz that night, and a repeat here on this yacht today.
    That was two slips too many. And it was quite enough. He had to get himself back under control and stay there.
    He watched as she flipped over to her back in the water, no doubt checking for any potential pursuit, and fought with that part of him that suggested he simply leave her there. She had already wasted too much of his time. His schedule had been packed full today, and he’d shoved it all aside so he could try to keep her from leaving. Why had he done any of this? And then kissed her?
    It didn’t matter, he told himself ruthlessly. She was too valuable to him as his assistant to risk her drowning, of course. Or to become his lover, as his body was still enthusiastically demanding. He’d decided the same thing three years ago when she’d applied for that promotion. He’d determined that she should stay exactly where she was and everything should remain exactly as it had been before they’d gone to Spain. He still didn’t see why anything should change, when it had all been so perfect for so long, save two kisses that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
    He didn’t understand why she wanted to leave his employ so desperately, or why she was so furious with him all of a sudden. But he felt certain that if he threw enough money at the problem, whatever it was and especially if it was no more than her hurt feelings, she would find that it went away. His mouth twisted. People always did.
    “Sir? Perhaps one of the motorboats? Only she’s got a bit far out, now …?” the steward asked again, sounding simultaneously more subservient and more worried than he had before, a feat that might have amused Cayo had he not still been so at odds with his own temper.
    He did not care for the feeling—uncertain and off-balance. He did not like the fact that Drusilla made him feel at all, much less like that. She was the perfectpersonal assistant, competent and reliable. And impersonal. It was when he saw her as a woman that he ran into trouble. He started to feel the way he imagined other, lesser men felt. Unsure. Even needy. Wholly unlike himself and