Sophie glanced at the writing, smiled, nodded then tucked it into her purse. And then they were shaking hands. Smiles all round…
Paranoia. Jared clenched his fingers then very deliberately relaxed them. He extended his hand the moment Cameron relinquished Sophie’s. ‘Brett. Thank you for thinking of Sanderson’s. You can expect our written proposal by next Wednesday.’
Cameron nodded, his grip firm. ‘Look forward to it.’
Sophie wandered the Noosa Marina with Jared late that afternoon. Lots of cool blue—blue sails, blue paint, blue sky. There was a casual holiday atmosphere with tourists and locals alike eating at the variety of local cafés on the wharf, strolling the decking, poking around the one-of-a-kind stores from high-end fashion to fishing tackle.
Jared had suggested it as a good place to unwind after a day’s work and he was right. Trouble was, Sophie noticed, he never seemed to completely switch off. Not healthy.
The strong smell of the water pervaded the aroma of fresh-cooked seafood and the exotic fragrances emanating from the local day-spa shop. She rubbed a slight stiffness at the base of her skull as they passed the open door.
‘Did I work you too hard today?’
She dropped her hand from her neck, shook her head. ‘But I’d kill for one of those day-spa pampering packages.’
‘According to Crystal, they’re heaven-sent.’
‘Actually I’ve never had one.’ Sophie shrugged. ‘The money never seems to stretch that far. But it’s definitely on my to-do list.’
‘Good idea.’
‘Yes.’ She glanced at him. ‘They’re good for men too, you know.’
His response was a mere rumble that sounded suspiciously like disagreement. Typical macho man.
There was a band playing in one of the restaurants; the wooden decking vibrated with the sounds of countless feet. A plethora of boats bobbed on the water; ferries and cruising restaurants all jostling for space in the popular marina, their gentle putter and the sound of water washing against their hulls filling the air.
Jared slowed as they approached a small cruiser tied up at the jetty, its paintwork gleaming red-gold in the late afternoon sun. A sunset dinner cruise by the looks of it, Sophie thought, admiring the little white-cloth-covered tables on board.
‘You like sunsets and tonight looks like we might be in for a good one. How would you like to see it over the water tonight?’
‘I’d love to. But if you’re thinking this boat, it doesn’t look like it’s ready to sail for a while. There’s no one else here. And you probably have to book.’
‘Let’s see.’ Jared walked to the gangway where one of the crew, dressed in whites, was laying out cutlery on one of the tables.
He looked up as they approached. ‘Good evening.’
‘Good evening.’ Jared nodded to him. ‘I made a booking earlier.’
The guy smiled. ‘Mr Sanderson?’
‘Yes.’ Jared turned to Sophie. ‘Feeling hungry yet?’
Her stomach fluttered but it wasn’t with hunger. He’d remembered a throwaway comment she’d made last week about sunsets. Macho and romantic was Jared Sanderson. And she had the perfect dress to wear—a soft floaty sea/tea green that she’d popped in her bag at the last moment…back at their house. Right now her navy skirt and cream blouse were limp with a day’s wear and humidity. ‘Now?’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m in my work gear…and I’ve been in it all day. I’m hardly dressed for eating out.’
His gaze smouldered down her body like slow-moving lava. She’d never get used to that look and how it made her feel. Desired, dreamy, distracted.
Hot.
‘Relax, Ms Buchanan, it’s just you and me and a couple of crew. And you look as fresh as you did at ten o’clock.’ He held out his hand to her, palm up. ‘What do you say, is it all aboard?’
‘And anchors away.’ She had to smile because who could resist that roguish grin? Those scorching eyes? She laid her palm on his.
A cool breeze drifted across the river. They stood on the tiny deck upstairs and drank pink champagne from tall crystal flutes. She discovered a wild hibiscus flower in syrup at the bottom and enjoyed its delicious raspberry and rhubarb flavour on her tongue almost as much as she enjoyed the kiss Jared gave her the moment they were alone.
The aroma of roasting garlic and other herbs whetted their appetites as they watched a gold-rimmed orange fireball sink below the bruised horizon. Within seconds the jagged slices of black and gold glinting on the water faded to a muted charcoal.
Moments later they returned to their table below, where a basket of steaming rolls awaited them.