“Do you still need me to fly you somewhere this afternoon?” Waverly asked the next day as she emerged from their over-the-top bathroom, which could easily have passed for a high-end spa. Funny, he didn’t think of it as his quarters anymore. Overnight, she’d changed his perspective on everything.

It felt right when she shared his space. Less lonesome and wasteful.

For the first time, he found himself actually enjoying the deluxe appointments, proud he could ensure her comfort and pamper her as she deserved.

Naked, she tipped her upper body to one side so to blot water from the long length of her hair with a thick towel. The motion put her perfect-handful breasts and the soft dip of her waist on display. She didn’t resemble models he’d seen in either fashion or jack-off mags. Not overly voluptuous or stick-thin, either.

That didn’t matter. To him, she was the ideal woman. Her fit and healthy proportions had him regretting his decision not to shower with her. Except he’d had to finish arranging some final details before they left.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” He made sure she couldn’t see his face when he replied. Didn’t want to give any of his plans away. Unlike most people, she knew him well enough to recognize when he wasn’t being entirely upfront.

She laughed. “You’re the boss, Archer. Literally.”

“Should I fire you?” he asked, in all seriousness. It had been weighing on his mind as the connection between them strengthened, turning into something precious that he was afraid to sever with bullshit like this. “I mean, I don’t want you to think of me as your employer. We’re equals, Waverly. In our relationship, and in what we do here on the Divemaster.”

“It’s up to you.” She strolled over to him then, probably intending to use her nudity to her advantage, though he didn’t mind. It was a highly effective strategy. After placing a quick kiss on his cheek, she said. “Let me put it this way…you know how even if you never got paid for it, you’d keep diving?”

He nodded, reaching for her hip.

She slapped his fingers away then abandoned him in favor of rummaging through the dresser, which also meant her ass was on display for him to ogle. Banks had waved his fairy godfather wand or something, sending one of the housekeeping staff on a shopping spree at his request. They’d stocked her wardrobe with sundresses, bikinis, and killer underwear so she had selections beyond her Banks Foundation uniform.

“Archer?”

He had to think back for a moment as he watched her shimmy into a skimpy pair of panties. He was going to order Banks to give himself a giant Christmas bonus this year. “Yes? Of course, I love diving. Doing it for a living was really just a way to survive while I did what I wanted anyway.”

“Flying is the same for me. Except I need an aircraft to pilot. So as long as you supply that, I’ll gladly schlep you anywhere you want to go. Because it means I get to do what I love most.” She smiled slowly at him then as she finished clasping the bra he already couldn’t wait to peel off her later. “Make that second most.”

It was going to be harder than he had thought to keep his hands to himself until they arrived at their destination.

“Okay. If you’re going to do the work regardless, you deserve to be paid for it. But I need you to understand that I don’t see you as hired help. In fact…” An idea came to him then.

“Yes?”

“How about you ditch that uniform? I feel kind of sleazy lusting after you when you’re wearing it.” He wouldn’t tell her about his true stroke of genius until he’d already made it official. That way, she couldn’t argue. Or refuse.

“I bet you wouldn’t complain if I found a French maid outfit in here, though.”

Archer thought of her in seamed stockings. He’d bend her over, flip up her skirt, and… “Banks didn’t really put one in there, did he?”

“No!” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “But I bet one of the housekeeping staff has a feather duster I could borrow when we get back.”

If they had enough energy for roleplaying tonight, it would probably mean his plan had been an epic failure. “We’ll see.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” she asked him as she ducked into a short, silky dress that looked like an oversized handkerchief. It left her sexy legs—and a good amount of her cleavage—exposed. Fine by him.

Hell, he’d have no problem with her walking around naked all the time.

Maybe he’d have to talk to Banks about filling one of their tours with nudists.

“Ready?” he asked, eager to be on their way.

She plucked her sunglasses and a big floppy hat from a table near the door, then said, “Yep. Where am I taking you anyway?”

“There’s a small group of people subsistence living not too far from here. One of the other arms of the Banks Foundation will be supporting indigenous people who would rather continue their traditions than modernize. Since we’re in the area anyway, we’re going to take some supplies and medical aid over to them.”

“Sounds good to me. Not that different than what I used to do in the Navy sometimes.” Waverly shot him a stare so full of warmth he felt it heat his entire body. This time it wasn’t the lusty sort either. Or not only that. It was something more profound.

“What?” he asked as he opened the door and ushered her out.

“Think of how many people in the world are going to be impacted positively because of you.” She linked her arm with his as they wound their way through the yacht on their path to the helipad.

He shrugged, kind of uncomfortable with that assessment. “It’s not because of me. It’s because of my father’s money. Considering how many people probably suffered or were fucked over so he could amass that pile of cash, it seems only right.”

“Even so, we both know that just because something should happen doesn’t mean it will happen.” She turned him toward her, then pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss. “You’re really doing it, Archer. Making this happen.”

“All I did was sign a bunch of papers. Banks is the hero, not me.”

She whispered up at him then, thinking about how he’d saved her more than a decade ago even if she hadn’t known it then. “You’ll always be my hero.”

“I’ll do my best for you, Waverly.”

With a pat on his cheek, she turned and they continued walking in no hurry, pausing in several of the common areas to talk to passengers who’d gone diving with him over the past few weeks and waved hello to others they were also coming to know from shared meals or simply living on the Divemaster together for a while.

As a freelance divemaster, Archer’s clients usually hadn’t stuck around more than a week or two at most. Though some came back year after year to the same resorts, he, Tosin, and Miguel hadn’t been there the next time they returned.

This was different. He was learning about each of the people temporarily living onboard and coming to care, especially when they shared some of the heartbreaking details of their loved ones’ health crises.

It made them more real to him. More than tourists passing through.

He was starting to feel like his nomad days were over. Sure, the Divemaster moved for him. But he could no longer imagine himself leaving her behind for another place he couldn’t grow some roots.

It would be kind of sad when the passengers who’d taken this maiden voyage with them switched out with the next group of guests. Then again, it was wonderful to see how much they’d relaxed in the time they’d been onboard. How many more smiles were exchanged than when they’d first arrived.

Some of the passengers had taken it upon themselves, with help from Banks, to organize their own support group meetings in the evenings and had plans to start up a virtual edition on social media so they could keep in touch after they went home. One good deed expanded and grew, picking up momentum as it went.

Archer thought they might actually be making a difference, however small, in these people’s lives, and he couldn’t wait to see who Banks would bring in next and what they could do to help them.

Caught in an introspective mood, he soon found himself relaxing in the passenger seat of the helicopter as Waverly did her thing. He didn’t feel the need to scrutinize her or ask if she felt everything was okay. He was like the blissfully ignorant subset of clients who’d relied on him to lead their dives.

He trusted her, absolutely, with his life.

So he didn’t bug her before or during takeoff, limiting his glances in her direction to the ones he needed to keep his stiffening dick happy.

“I wonder if I’m going to have a hard-on every time I fly with you. So far we’re two for two.” He might have caught her off guard with that statement, but though she risked a glimpse at the tent in his shorts, she didn’t so much as bobble the stick. “It’s sexy, watching you like this. Confident, competent, totally badass. Miguel was right about that.”

“Thanks, Archer.” She flashed him one of her dazzling smiles as they began to accelerate toward their target. “That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

He was saved from responding when a charcoal wedge appeared on the horizon. It grew bigger as they flew in that direction.

“Is that someone from the Divemaster?” She pointed at what turned out to be a Zodiac—an inflatable motorboat—which bounced along the waves, hauling ass in the opposite direction from where they were headed.

Considering they were out in the middle of nowhere, relatively, he figured it wouldn’t make any sense to deny it. He grunted, thinking they’d cut things close. “Yeah. I think it’s Tosin and Miguel. They said something about going fishing earlier.”

“I wonder why they didn’t cast off the yacht.” She shrugged.

Because they hadn’t really been fishing. Archer crossed his fingers and hoped she wouldn’t be pissed at him when she realized that he’d fibbed.

“Mind if I have a little fun now that you’re pretty sure I’m not going to kill us?” she asked. “We have plenty of extra fuel for this run.”

“Does that mean you’re going to show me what this thing can really do?” Archer teased. “I wasn’t going to point out that you drive like a grandma…”

That might have been the wrong thing to say.

Waverly screeched, then muttered, “I’ll show you a granny.”

She did a pretty good job of making sure he’d never malign her again with a daring swoop that brought them low over the waves as they circled back. Soon they buzzed Tosin and Miguel.

It got even better when Miguel stumbled at their unexpected nearness, and fell overboard with a splash. They zipped around like a gnat, crisscrossing the air over the guys until they were sure Miguel had climbed in safe and sound—if soaked—once more.

Only when he offered them a double-fingered salute did they fly off again, laughing.

Waverly hadn’t finished with her freestyling, though.

She swerved her way from island to island on the general course to their destination. Lush foliage and even a waterfall they spotted along the way made for an amazing tour of the area.

If Archer didn’t have a stomach of steel and immunity to motion sickness after years of working on a boat, he might have ruined their afternoon. Instead, he whooped and cheered as she took him for the ride of his life.

Even if he did clutch the seat in a death grip a time or two.

The highlight of the trip came when they passed over a marshy inlet on one of the bigger landmasses. An entire flock of flamingos launched themselves into the air, not high enough to be a concern. Looking down on a sight he’d seen numerous times from the ground in Bonaire gave him a new viewpoint.

Just like Waverly kept doing to him in other aspects of his life.

For one, he hadn’t felt so aggressive with her, didn’t always need to be in control like he had with other partners. Though, there went his cock again…the thought held some appeal. Maybe someday, after their unfortunate start was further in the shadows of the past, he could ask her to explore the clubroom with him.

For now, playing in the sunlight with her was everything he could hope for.

His restlessness, and most of his bitterness, had vanished, too.

He felt weightless. As if he could fly without the chopper, though he didn’t plan to put that to the test.

“Are you sure you gave me the right coordinates?” She glanced at him then, looking a little nervous as she punched buttons on her various monitors. “I don’t see any outposts for the supply run.”

“Don’t worry, Waverly.” He smiled. “We’re in the right place for what I had in mind. There’s a clearing right over there that you can put us down in, if that works for you.”

Given that she often landed helicopters on postage-stamp-sized pads that were essentially moving targets, he had figured it would be a cakewalk for her.

The guys had scoped it out for him and taken pictures that he’d reviewed with Captain Alex, who also had an extensive knowledge of aviation from his own time in the Navy. The guy had given Archer the thumbs-up on his selection. Just in case, they had plenty of gas to make it back if she didn’t feel comfortable for whatever reason.

“Archer?” she asked. “Is this really a business thing we’re doing?”

“Nope.” He grinned then, knowing the jig was up. “It’s a very, very personal thing. A romantic-as-fuck date thing.”

“Seriously?” She raised her brows but kept her eyes forward as she descended, landing dead-center in the clearing.

“Yes. This whole helicopter pilot business is awfully convenient. I loved my life before all this, Waverly. I swear I did. But some of these perks…”

“I totally know what you mean.” She finished shutting down, hopped from the helicopter, then waited for him near the edge of the palm trees. “I mean, in my old job, I never got to make out with my boss.”

They kissed for a while, forgetting where they were or that the rest of the world even existed outside of this slice of heaven. Eventually, he entwined their fingers and led her toward the beach on the south side of the islet.

When the path opened up and he could see what his friends had prepared, he realized why they had taken so damn long. They’d gone overboard for him today. Twice, he thought with a chuckle. Knowing they cared enough to help him score points with Waverly only made the day that much more meaningful.

“Oh, Archer.” She dropped her shoes and jogged the rest of the way toward the set up, her hair and dress blowing in the breeze as if she were a sea goddess. He’d never seen someone more elegant and gorgeous than her right then.

He wished he were a painter so that he could capture the moment forever.

When she looked back at him, the undiluted bliss on her face—rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, and captivating smile—made the mountain of suffering they’d done before finding each other again worth it. If he could spend a day like this with her even every once in a while, he’d die happy.

In the midst of hundreds of currently unlit pillar candles that dotted the beach, she spun around, her arms out.

At their very center was a humongous heart drawn in the sand. Of course his smartass friends hadn’t been able to resist and had also written Archie + Waverly 4Ever. He felt less guilty about Miguel’s impromptu dip after that, though Waverly seemed to love it.

She took out her phone and snapped pictures of the setup from every angle, as if she never wanted to forget a thing about it.

Two upside down, squared off U’s constructed of driftwood at least as tall as him had been pounded into the sand and draped with a long panel of sheer fabric, which fluttered in the wind. It provided shelter from the afternoon sun for the blanket spread and staked beneath it. A dozen or more oversized pillows made the space seem comforting and inviting.

Nearby, a table for two was set, and an ice chest waited for them to unpack it.

A handful of tiki torches scattered around completed the masterpiece.

Everything they needed for an exclusive, romantic retreat…they had it.

Most importantly, they had each other.

After the double drama of the day before—their emotional turmoil and the near-mugging, which the local authorities weren’t interested in investigating—they could use a day away from the rest of the world.

He planned to give her that.

Hopefully complete with lots of bone-melting sex.

What better way to relax was there than that?