Bring the Heat Margot Radcliffe (classic romance novels TXT) 📖

“No,” she called, “this is what you get for being such an overbearing ass.”

Ducking under the water, he swam to her side where she wasn’t expecting him and drew up and grabbed her into his arms, effectively dunking her in a crafty sneak attack.

“Oh my God,” she spluttered when she came back up. “I cannot believe you did that!” she yelled when she’d pushed the hair back from her face.

“I was just trying to illustrate to you how real I was,” he laughed, swimming backward as she advanced on him.

“You’re going to wish you weren’t by the time I’m done with you,” she warned, but was also grinning, which diminished the threat in the words.

“I can’t wait,” he told her, then swam quickly away, knowing sooner or later he’d let her catch him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“WHAT DO YOU think of it?” Oliver asked Molly as she inspected the engine room of another yacht docked in the Grand Bahama Yacht Club.

He’d dragged her to shore to tour a couple of the yachts in the port and get her thoughts on their construction. What he was really doing, however, was trying to subtly impart that by working with him she’d be completely in charge of building something from scratch, which he knew she loved. And if she was being honest with herself, if Oliver wouldn’t essentially be her boss, she might love building something new for a change.

“It’s pretty sleek,” she told him as she ran her hands over one of the shining stainless steel hoses jutting out from the engine block. “But not as nice as yours. Since you’re running liquid natural gas you’re getting more bang for your buck and a cleaner ride. This is a twelve-cylinder engine while you have ten. It feels like we’re talking about apples and oranges.”

“So this is a dinosaur?”

She nodded, but knew he already knew it. He’d had his yacht built with cutting edge eco-technology that put it leaps and bounds beyond most boats still on the water. But this trip was how he was going to open up the conversation he wanted to have with her about building yachts.

“The market for new yachts is there, but I’ve been toying with devoting a portion of the business to upgrading ones already on the water. We don’t make the engines, unless of course, you were to grace us with your genius for that, but what if we could design a new kind of engine that could easily exist inside the bones of an old yacht?”

“I don’t know anything about yacht markets, Oliver,” she said. “But I trust your judgment. I always thought there was a small market for yacht charters that cost over 600,000 a week, but it wasn’t as if we ever had a free week during a charter season so my knowledge of how the one percent lives is limited. That said, with the global emissions laws ramping up, more and more yachts are going to have to comply so it’s probably a good idea to start supporting that kind of change.”

“I totally agree.” Oliver grinned. “I guess great minds think alike. So my next question is, what would you do to make yacht engines more efficient?”

“Oliver, if you want to break into the marine manufacturing market, you need to do it without me. I told you I like my job.”

“I know, I know,” Oliver said, brushing her reminder aside. “But when I do hire someone, I need to know that what they’re telling me is legitimate. I don’t want to just build yachts, I want to build the best ones. I want shit no one has even fucking thought of before, Molly, you know? And I know you’re the type of person who thinks that way. So tell me your thoughts so I know the person I hire instead of you has vision.”

Molly sighed and gave him a put-upon look because he was so good at flattery and she wasn’t unaffected by it. She moved farther into the room, ducking under a low light fixture to inspect an older control panel.

“Yachts are all about excess,” Molly said, stating the obvious. “But engineering is about doing the most with the least amount of work, space and material. So if I were building an engine, I’d start there. But the problem is that people want what they know works. That’s why the same companies in business are still in business—they’re dependable—which means you can’t just abandon all that has come before and start from scratch.” She smiled, eyes twinkling. “But I would.”

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“Because I’m better at making things for people who dream than the people who make things for money.”

There was a moment of silence as Oliver stared at her, his eyes shifting from humor, to regard, to heat, and then finally to humor again. “I like you a lot, Molly.”

“Same,” she told him, then scanned the engine room at large. “This is yesterday for sure, but you could make an engine that could be adjusted to fit inside a variety of spaces so that upgrades would be as painless as possible.”

“What about a three-million-dollar signing bonus?” Oliver said, hoping to catch her off guard.

Molly shook her head, amused. “Nope.”

“Unlimited vacation days? You make your own schedule?”

Still shaking her head, Molly crossed her arms over her chest.

“A base of operations near a mountain so you could hike at lunch?”

“Negative.”

Oliver’s nostrils flared and then he grinned. “My body?”

Molly snorted. “I already have that.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, but whenever you want it. One look and I’m naked. A snap of your fingers and I’m naked. Crook your finger and I’m naked. Ask me nicely and I’m naked and kneeling.”

Molly couldn’t help it—she laughed and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “This is beneath you, Oliver.”

“I’m fine with that as long as you’re on top of me,” he shot back, pulling her into his arms.