Page 71 of Forty, Flirty & Framed

Twenty minutes later, we're back aboard the Fidelity, the engines humming as we pull away from MacTavish's dock.

The Seattle skyline glitters in the distance, a constellation of human-made stars against the inky July sky.

I lean against the railing, watching the water part beneath us.The night air carries the scent of saltwater and diesel, oddly comforting.

"You're quiet," Callum says, joining me at the rail.

"Just processing," I reply."Seeing Richard was...unexpected."

"For both of us."His voice holds no emotion."Did what he said bother you?"

I consider this."Not in the way you might think.I'm not hung up on him if that's what you're asking."

"I wasn't," he says, though his expression suggests otherwise.

"It's more that..."I search for words that won't reveal too much."He has a way of making me feel like I don't belong in this world.Your world."

"And what world is that?"

"This."I gesture toward the luxury yacht, the retreating mansion, the entire glittering ecosystem of wealth and power."The world of people who've never had to wonder if they can afford both rent and groceries in the same month."

Callum is silent for a moment."You think I've never struggled?"

"I think your struggles and mine have been fundamentally different," I say gently."And that's okay.But it's why Richard could always make me feel...less than.Like I was an imposter playing dress-up in designer clothes."

He turns to face me fully."You belong exactly where you are, Karina.You've earned it."

The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tight.

If only he knew the whole truth.

"Even standing here with you?"I ask, unable to stop myself.

"Especially here with me."

I'm suddenly aware of how close we're standing, how the yacht's gentle rocking keeps bringing us into brief contact.

"About our other agreement," I say carefully."The one about nothing happening between us..."

"Strictly professional," he murmurs, though his eyes drop to my mouth.

"Absolutely.”I sway closer."Which is why this would be a terrible idea."

"Catastrophic," he concurs, fingers brushing mine on the railing.

"Career-ending."

"Reckless."

"So reckless."

And then we're kissing, his mouth hot and demanding against mine.

This isn't the careful exploration of our first kiss or the heated but restrained encounter in his hotel suite.

This is hunger unleashed, weeks of tension finally breaking.

His hands tangle in my hair, my carefully styled updo coming undone as I press myself against him.