Read Online BILLIONAIRE Island: Idyllic Mischief by Savannah May - Free Book Online Page A

wow.” she said when Sash circled the boat back to the starting point. She'd have been leaping up and down with glee except jumping underwater was impossible.
    “Not too bad,” Damien said.
    “Not too bad? That was friggin' awesome. I done good.”
    Sash drew the boat beside them and Indie clambered up the step, upper arms exhausted from the battle with the sea. She collapsed into a leather bucket seat and even grinned at Laurent, she was so proud. He barely grimaced and turned back to watch Damn come out like a bird in flight. He raised his palm in the signal to pick up speed and worked the water like a master. His taut body flexed horizontal to one side, touching his head into the wave before curving back around and jumping high into the air off the wake. Laurent and Indie watched spellbound and even Sash kept turning back from eyes on the road to catch a peek.
    “He's amazing.” Indie whispered.
    “He tried out for the Olympic team when he was eighteen,” Sasha shouted over the wind rush. “He made it too.”
    Indie heard Laurent snort, but he too was mesmerized by Damn's virtuoso control.
    He seemed to leap one-handed back into the boat and took the wheel. He drove fast along the coast, accelerating the boat off the crest of the waves and pulled up off the beach, dropped the anchor and they hopped into the water to wade up to a beachfront bar.
    “Okay that was wow,” Indie said when they were seated, cocktails ordered and Laurent had finally picked his way though the water to join them, still in a huff.
    “I am out of practice. How do you say it- rusted?” Damn said.
    “Rusty- and no one would have known.”
    “Twenty-five years practice.” he shrugged. “My father put me on a ski when I was two.”
    “Wow. You too Sash, you were amazing.”
    “We just have to get you out every day and you'll be wow too,” she said, with a sideways glance at Damn that implied he'd better offer to take her out in his boat again.
    “So, you like art more than sport,” Indie turned to Laurent determined to draw him out.
    He shrugged. Damien said something harsh in French to him. “I do not like water,” he muttered.
    “That's hard when you live on an island.”
    “Laurent is from Paris. He's only been here a month.”
    “Oh, I was supposed to be in Paris right now except, um, I just arrived as well.” No way she wanted to open up her past here and now.
    “I adore Paris,” Sasha sighed. “What do you do there?”
    “He's a designer at Paco Rabanne.”
    “Wow,” Indie said. “It's a day of wows.” You dumbass. You’ve said wow like a thousand freaking times.
    “We are opening a fashion company together,” Damn said.
    “Wow, that's news,” Sasha perked he interest at the prospect of competition. “What kind of goods?”
    “Don't worry, not leather,” Damn said.
    “Phew.”
    “Some beachwear, tee shirts, stuff for tourists.”
    Indie wondered how a designer at a Paris house ended up in tee shirts for tourists.
    “If you need a fit model, that's Indie's professional capacity,” Sasha volunteered her friend's services and Indie threw her a glare until Damn turned to her.
    “You're a model?”
    “Er, yes.” No need to sound so surprised.
    “I knew it.”
    Fuck. The bloom fired her cheeks again. “Perhaps because I told you last night.”
    “I must have forgotten.” Liar.
    Another sleek white speedboat pulled up close to Damien's and a gorgeous couple came up the beach. The girl was tall and lithe, Nordic blonde, while the guy was the same height, muscular lean, Mauritius drop-dead, with a slick of light brown hair.
    “ Plein d'oeil ,” Sasha said, eliciting an impatient roll of Laurent's eyes. “Just before sundown the sea goes glass flat, perfect for skiing. Everyone comes out to play,” she explained to Indie. As the couple reached the table, Indie felt Damn stiffen beside her, his jaw set like a vise.
    “Damien,” the handsome guy greeted him with a curt nod.
    “Marc” Damn said