Chasing Secrets✓

51.

Amara

The start of our night together had me jittery. I acted as if it were our first date all over again. It seems as that though, but the immense amount of effort he put into tonight topped anything he could've ever done for me.

As we drove off the main road and out of the city, I knew we were heading somewhere along the coast. What shook me to the state of aghast was the enormous cruiser yacht standing at the edge of the deck, wailing in the direction of the strong night's wind as the calm waters swayed its body from side to side. I practically waddled my way over to the sand as soon as Lucien pulled up to the beach behind a black SUV, cursing myself under my breath for wearing 6 inch heels to the beach.

From behind I felt his muscular arms hoist me over his left shoulder. A squeal escapes my lips as his large hand came in contact with my right butt cheek. I felt him climb up the deck and pace along the walkway. He suddenly halts.

He spoke in what seemed as French and I wasn't sure who he was communicating to due to my position.

A man. It was obvious. Lucien then crosses his legs over the lining of the boat to step on the platform, resting me down gently. My eyes peer wide open as I take in my new surroundings.

Heck, inside was even bigger than its outer presentation.

A balcony, a patio set, sun chair, outdoor bar. This was a little home.

I sensed his presence behind me. He rests his hands on my waist, wrapping them tightly around to meet each other in front of me.

"I want you to enjoy yourself okay? I'm trying for you. For us," he moves a strand of hair away from my face and twist my neck to the side, ramming his lips forcefully against mine from the back.

"Mr. King, she's ready to sail," a heavily accented voice interrupts us and I bring my face to look at the quinquagenarian man who stares unbothered by Lucien peppering my neck with kisses.

"Thank you. Amara this is Maxime, my personal bodyguard and driver," Lucien introduces and detaches himself from me.

"Quel honneur et quel plaisir! Madam, what a pleasure it is to meet the person the boss always talks about," he had spoken something in French at first, his accent complementing the tone he was using. Then he greeted in English.

(What an honour and what a pleasure in French).

His features never changed. His face was stoic and unreadable.

I smile innocently. "All good things I hope."

He only nods and crosses his hands in behind him, standing tall and fierce.

"Is he alright?" I whisper to Lucien, who only laughs and admire me.

"Sometimes I can't decipher whether or not he's in a good mood. I think this is." Lucien ushers for Maxime to proceed with sailing the yacht and he nods, leaving us where we stood on the deck.

I nod understandingly. "She's beautiful," I compliment the yacht impeccably and go over to run my fingers along the railing.

"Her name's Lavyrle, named her after ma mère. My mother is French while my father is Jewish. Means 'born in the spring'. She has a sunny personality, my mother. Optimistic and determined as she goes through life."

(My mother in French).

"She must be so strong," I whisper, turning to look into his eyes.

"She's an incurable romantic," he chuckles deeply, his fingers meeting his soft hair and goes to ruffle it.