Is Kellan Murphy’s future really on Oyster Island—with his sweet, hot dive instructor?
“What, are you on some kind of world tour?”
“Of a sort.”
Something that looked like envy flickered in green-as-the-sea eyes. The pretty parts of the ocean, not the deadly depths swelling all around Oyster Island.
When the diver’s full lips parted, Kellan struggled not to stare.
Aside from visiting a peak or depth on every continent, Aoife had made him promise to be open to a fling somewhere along his travels. If she’d seen the man behind the counter, she’d have flagged Sir Cotton-Is-No-Match-for-My-Muscles as a prime candidate.
Sorry to disappoint, Eef.
The fling would have to be an Aussie. Completing the requisite certification dives in the unpredictable Salish Sea was going to take all of Kellan’s energy.
“You want private training? Or group training and private dives? How many?”
“Too many,” he said under his breath.
One eyebrow rose.
Kellan cleared his throat. “Private everything.” It was worth the expense. Without the certification, he wouldn’t be able to complete the rest of his sister’s requests. “The certification dives, and then two a week until the end of March.”
“And do you have a preference for a divemaster?”
Hours of being around Sam was asking for trouble…
“I want you.”