Some Like It Hot by Zoey Dean Read Free Book Online Page B

all the illumination one could desire. The bed frame was hand-carved with Moorish designs and inlays so new that Anna could smell the faint aroma of the wood.
    The big brown and white pillows on the bed, though, were the same. So was the down comforter with the gold-inlaid comforter cover. So were the light gold silk sheets, his arms, his body—the him that she remembered so well.
    Anna opened her eyes to the gentle rocking of the yacht. She was nestled in Ben's arms, the silk sheets crumpled beneath them. His eyes were still closed. She thought about everything they'd shared before falling asleep and shivered deliciously. Whoever had invented sex was a genius.
    “You're thinking again,” Ben accused, but there was a smile on his lips.
    She gazed at his peaceful face and ran the tips of her fingers down his hard chest. “Your eyes aren't even open; how would you know?”
    “I can
feel
it.”
    “I had no idea you were so sensitive,” she teased.
    “Oh yes you did.” He opened his eyes and pulled her closer. “I think the past hour or two proved that.”
    She kissed one of the ridges of his abdominal six-pack. “I have problems with short-term memory. I might need an instant replay to remind me.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “Yes, really.”
    “Or maybe you need …
this
!”
    He picked up a pillow and bopped her with it. She whacked him with another one. She thought she was on the verge of vanquishing him, until Ben held her down and made her say, “Ben is the king!” three times in French. She was laughing so hard she could hardly get the breath to say it.
    “Ben est le roi! Trois fois!”
she teased.
    Who knew she could be this happy, this carefree? He rolled over next to her, a big, dopey grin on his face. Could it be possible that he was just as happy as she was? Yes, it was. She could feel it.
    It was the perfect time to ask him.
    “Ben?”
    “Anna?”
    “How would you feel about going to prom?”
    He pretended to muse for a moment. “Prom. You're talking the Beverly Hills High School prom?”
    “Is there another kind?”
    “I went last year,” Ben remembered. “But that was only because it was for charity. You
really
want to go?”
    Anna nodded, conscious of a real lack of enthusiasm in his voice.
    “Are Sam and Cammie going?”
    “I think so.” For a moment, she was tempted to tell Ben about Sam's movie idea and about how irritated it made her, but she decided she'd wait until she knew if the movie was actually happening. It could, after all, fall through.
    “There's just one problem.” He frowned. “If I decide to go, who should I take?”
    She laughed. “Don't start or I'll smack you with another pillow and this time I'll win.”
    He kissed her tenderly. “Yes, Anna. Of course I'll take you to prom.”
    Ben pulled on his jeans and went up top to restart the engine and take them back to shore. There'd been a coastal storm forecast to arrive sometime after midnight; he didn't want them to be caught in it out at sea, even though there was no real danger other than sea-sickness. Meanwhile, Anna lay under the silk sheets grinning like a fool. It had been so simple. It seemed ludicrous that she'd ever stressed about it, about him.
    She dozed off for a while as Ben was piloting them back, and awakened only when the engines reversed as they were pulling into the slip at Marina del Rey—a quick look through one of the cabin's portholes confirmed that this was what was happening: the huge, floodlit marina spread out before her, row upon row of docks and boat slips, literally hundreds of white sail-boats and cabin cruisers awaiting their next journey to the high seas. Per the marina regulations, Ben cut the power to no-wake so that the moored vessels wouldn't get sloshed, which gave Anna time to find her clothes, get dressed, and rejoin him on the bridge. She even helped him tie the
Nip 'n' Tuck
to the slip moorings and swab the decks as the first gusts of wind from the incoming storm blew through. They