Floating into the water, Xavier caught her head in his hand and sank his fingers in her soft hair whilst she ran the tip of her tongue over his, then gently probed.

He licked her lips and she responded with passion. At that moment all his principles evaporated and he let her play as much as she desired.

The kiss was deep and full. She used her tongue on him and her lips caressed the corners of that hard mouth, delved inside again. Her excitement clambered, fueled by the feel of his hands clasping her so tightly. She let out a soft, mewing sound. Vulnerable. Needy. And that sound threaded into Xavier’s dulled consciousness and brought him back to reality.

With one hand he dragged her mouth away abruptly and with another, he gripped onto her hands. “Let’s get out of this shit.” He spoke to the expression of shock that swept over her flushed face.

“Yeah.” Aveline nodded, replacing a sigh.

Xavier swam to the yacht, holding her closely and carried her up to the stable spot on the grand deck. As Aveline tried to brush the water away from her blouse and jeans, he gazed over her in confusion. “It’s the damn water. Not some powder. Go and change your clothes.”

She went very still as she met his gaze. “My luggage… It’s in your room.” The water droplets on his skin and the strand of hair that swept across his forehead were what made Ave nervous. Drenched by the sea, the gradient colour of his full-sleeve, linen shirt evidenced the perfect shape of his not so board yet strong, masculine body.

“That’s the reason I concerned. Take that thing from my room.” Xavier spit out before he walked away with his luggage, ignoring her existence as if nothing had happened.

God, he was being so arrogant. She sighed and followed him closely from behind.

Located on the second deck, in front of the massive entrance of a VIP room, Xavier took a halt and creaked the door open. Ignoring Ave’s existence once again, he entered the room, placed his luggage across the way and left the door half-opened.

Aveline didn’t think twice, she stalked inside and closed the door without hesitating a bit as if it was the only right thing to do.

The room was so unlikely to just accommodate a single person. Except for Sam and Ethy, they were still four in total. A yacht was never supposed to have about four VIP rooms; rather two VIPs, two doubles and one single was always the standard facility.

Everyone would be staying in VIP rooms – this was what Sam’s words imply. But four VIP rooms? He really got the nerve to spend his money lavishly.

“What are you staring at?” His voice chimed like the clashing of two grand slopes. His deep, manly voice was the most charming part of his – she thought.

Deprived of her awareness, flocks of flushes and heat rushed through her skin. “Nothing.” She ignored herself shaking her head for no reason.

Excavating no more interest, he bothered to carry and also, to abandon the exchanged luggage in front of her from the corner of the double bed. “Take your luggage and leave.” He paused and as his gaze dropped at her, his expression turned more stern. “You are making this room a swimming pool.” Her dress was all drenched was a reason why the robe was getting rid of the excessive water.

“And you are not?” She snorted whilst her chin held down and gaze trailed down at the floor that was almost swept by the steam of his jeans.

His blank gaze shifted down to his toes. The water steam he had created was enough for a day for a little family that consists of three members. “It’s my room anyway.” He arrogantly hailed.

Exhaling an exaggerated sigh, she took over the luggage. “I wonder what’s your problem… I am the Princess here. A damn Princess.” She mumbled, riding the luggage to the doorway.

As a sound of knock was heard from outside, her steps slowed down. But the next sound rooted her steps in place, she stopped moving.

“Are you there, Mr Grey?”