As the yacht docked, Belle held out her hand to shake, but Peter reached in for a hug. Her body tingled, and she couldn't figure out what to do. She hadn't hugged him. Instead she patted his back, but she didn't quite know how far to reach across him to give him a hug.

Her heartbeat grew erratic. Finally she settled on keeping her arms from touching him, and the unsteadiness made her lightheaded. In the end, she pressed her arm behind his shoulders.

As he let go, she prayed her face didn't show a huge blush. Most of his women probably knew how to hug.

She brushed her hair behind her ear as he said, "See you tonight. I'll pick you up from your hotel."

“Yeah. There is a problem.” Her entire body was hot and steamy, and it had nothing to do with the temperature outside. She fanned herself and licked her lips. "I don't know where I'm going."

He squeezed her hand. "Let my limo driver take you. I took care of all the details."

"Of course you did. It sounds like a master plan that you have in your playbook."

“Believe me, Belle, with you, the playbook is being completely rewritten.”

She sat there, unsure how to respond. It might be surly if she took it all back now.

He winked. "I told you what I want from you."

She gritted her teeth and tried not to imagine what his kiss would taste like. "Somehow, I think there is more to your interest in me, but I don't want to know what it is."

"We all have imaginations."

She sniffed the air as the scent of oak washed through her, and then she swallowed. "What are you plans for the day without me then?"

"I have to go to work, but then I'll get ready at home. I’ll be at your hotel at eight o’clock."

“I’ll meet you downstairs then.” This was the worst idea of her life. Her friends would see her sitting with one of the richest men in the world and think she had gone off the deep end. Her pulse grew fast, though she rolled her shoulders and neck. "I don't know anything about you. This might not be a good idea."

“You know enough, probably more than most people on their first date.” He patted her arm. "So live a little, Belle Jordan."

"I'll figure you out, Peter."

"Not much to analyze."

Her mouth grew moist like she'd ask for a kiss. She hugged her stomach and glanced at the limo door. "You could probably have anyone that crosses your path. We don't make sense."

He tried to meet her gaze, but she avoided him. "Have faith."

"Faith and I aren't exactly on the best terms."

"Let go of being so defensive then."

Tingles grew all over her as she stood near him. She'd beg for that kiss right now if she thought she'd never see him again. This was so out of her element, and she clenched her hands. One dolphin swim didn't change the facts about her or him.

She stiffened her body and nodded. "See you tonight, with or without my armor. I'll decide that later."

"Belle, you are fascinating. I can't wait to see you tonight."

“Find another word to describe me then. I can’t live up to ‘fascinating’ forever.” He saw that she was settled in a limo, and then he went to another one. He hadn't even made a call. His people took care of every detail of his life.

In a daze, she settled into the seat and closed her eyes. This was something she never could have imagined. The white buildings and the smell of the ocean was everywhere. Time must have sped past her. She licked her lips, and the next thing she realized she was at the door of a fancy hotel.

Parrots squawked and repeated words in the trees. This Christmas was so strange. She stepped outside into the bright summer day, though there were pine decorations splattered in corners. The tropical climate with the lined palm trees did not give her the holiday feel, even if they were wrapped with lights.

She crossed her arms to get her bearings as the limo driver said, "The front desk will have your key, miss."

She should give the driver a tip. She dropped her hands and opened her pocketbook to hand him a few dollars. Luckily she had some cash on hand.

She reached to give it to him. "Okay. Here take this."

He waved his arms in front of him. "I get paid more than enough. I'll be here in case you need to go anywhere."

Every cell in her body was awake and scratchy. She swallowed the urge to argue. "Why?"

"Mr. Morgan pays me to drive his guests."

"Of course he does."

She shook her head. Peter was one of the richest men in the world, even she knew that about him.

She coughed, but instead of saying this was a stupid idea, she nodded and said, "Thanks."

This was entirely too much. She walked inside, and the light piano music that wafted in the airy lobby with thick red carpets gave a sense that she had been transported to someplace meant for extraordinary people. She clutched her well-used, slightly shredding pocketbook.

The vaulted ceilings and bright sunlight were not made for ordinary people like her. She blinked and saw a mahogany front desk. Her shoulders slumped, though she marched over to it.

"I'm Belle Jordan."

The clerk in a red suit nodded. "May I see your identification?"

"Of course." At least procedures never changed. This made him almost normal. She handed him her license. The clerk studied it, typed and then handed her an electric card. "Staff will see you shortly, ma'am."

Staff? Peter had said handlers. She'd said yes because of some strange spell she was under that had started with that unexpected swim. Her simple shorts and tee shirt seemed too casual for this place, but her black dress in the plastic bag had obvious signs of water damage. Her hair was extra frizzy from the ocean. She grimaced.

"Thanks. What is the daily rate I'll be paying while I'm here?"

"Your bill is provided for."

Once again, Peter. “Thanks but I’ll pay for myself when I check out.”

"Ma'am?"

She could walk out on principle. He had said he took care of the guests, which must mean he paid for every out of town guest. It might be a Morgan thing. The last wedding she had been in, she had paid for her own bridesmaid dress. This might be how the one percenters lived, though. She hugged her waist.

Perhaps asking him to be her date tonight had been a huge mistake. This was too rich. She wiggled her nose.

"At what cost?"

"Would you like a copy of the bill at check out?"

"Yes. We'll go from there."

The price of how much she'd owe him for eternity. If her never-used credit card wasn't enough, perhaps she could set up a payment plan.

Besides, how would she explain this room to her friends?

"Very good. Anything else, ma'am?"

Perhaps directions on how to get her soul back. "No, thank you."

She squared her posture and marched with the electric key in hand. As she read her room number, she proceeded to the elevator. As she stared at the buttons, she realized she was on the top floor. The penthouse was always the most expensive.

This was far above the wedding guest offer. She pressed the button and rested her head on the wall. More piano music played as the elevator climbed. Her heart seemed to double in beats with every floor. She held her wrists as the ride finally ended and the doors opened.

The floor seemed ordinary, though there was only one door in the small hallway. She took one ginger step. A moment later, she exited the elevator and her phone rang. Emily's number flashed, and Belle answered it.

"You didn't even want to come to this wedding," Em said.

"I remember."

"You skipped out on the party."

"I did."

"And in twenty-four hours, you, my best friend, become an international woman of mystery in all the newspapers."

"What?"

"Why did you ruin your dress?"

Belle picked up the bottom of the dress in the bag. It was still slightly wet and smelled now. "How did you know?"

She opened the door and held her breath as her friend said, "It's in my news feed and what people have asked me. You were apparently seen wearing Peter Morgan's clothes as you left his yacht."

"He took me to dinner, and I fell in the ocean."

"An unlikely story."

"Yet the truth.”

"I don't even believe you. You’re always steady and strong. And if I don’t buy that, no one else would."

Belle gazed at a two-floor suite with ceilings that appeared to have been hand painted. She went to one side and saw a balcony and a full view of all of whatever part of Miami she was in. She exhaled and ran to the other side of the suite. Yep. There was a second balcony. The spacious living room could have been made for the President of the United States.

She mumbled to her friend, "It's not important."

Em's voice was perky. "You're a disaster out for fun. You did look like you fell into the ocean. Did he fish you out or send a servant?"

"He was in the ocean already." The dolphin had seemed a private moment. She licked her salty lips. "We went swimming."

"In your dress?"

"Yeah, in my dress. I didn't have a swim suit, and he asked me." There was a baby grand piano near the dining room table. Belle fell onto the couch and covered her eyes. "This is too much. The dress didn't cost nearly this much."

"What happened? What's too much?"

She had landed in Oz. As she peeked through her fingers toward a closet, she gasped. "Peter said he'd take care of getting me a new dress. There are designer clothing boxes everywhere in my room."

She couldn't tell Em about this room too. She'd pinch her.

“What!” Instead her friend sounded wistful as she said, "Where are these jewels? We’re the same size. Before you send any back, save me one."

No she wouldn't. She'd tell her to run. Belle stiffened in her seat and prepped for it. "Not jewels. Dresses."

"I got it the first time. I'm sure there is an extra one for me then. Why are you stressing over clothes?"

"I'm not. It's just strange. I agreed to be Peter Morgan's date to this wedding."

"OMG. The Mr. Peter Morgan? I can’t believe you went out with him of all people. He’s the heir to the American dynasty who owns more money than the United States treasury. You have nothing in common. You’re not out for his money and don’t fit into that lifestyle at all."

“He can keep his money as far as I’m concerned.” Perhaps asking him to stand beside her was slightly too much. She had come here for closure, not to date though Em’s statement about her churned in her gut. She pushed her hair behind her ear.

"Now that sounds like you. You're going on a date with Mr. Monopoly."

“Not exactly.” A chuckle escaped her lips. The image didn't fit. "He doesn't wear a top hat."

"You should ask him too on this big date tonight. Is he hot like he seems in his business profile?"

She leaned her head on the back of the couch. Peter's dimples replayed in her mind along with his warm chocolate eyes.

"He's a womanizing charmer. He gets any woman he wants."

"Including you?"

Maybe. A kiss might not be enough but then it usually was. She shook her head.

"No. I'm just saying he's gorgeous, sexy and charming. He's everything I will never want."

"Sounds like every girl's living nightmare, all right. So you are going out with him...why?"

The sarcasm wasn't lost on her, but Belle had no answer. "I didn't want to be alone tonight, so I asked him."

That hadn't sound so pathetic. She closed her eyes.

"You never ask out a man. You never wanted to date again, and now here you are out with the brother of the woman who stole your fiancé?"

Now that was an angle she should have thought of on her own. Belle opened her eyes as she said, "Where are you and the others, Em?"

"We're on some tour. I am clearly not paying attention to the guide. Wish I was closer so I could come find you."

"We're at the same hotel now, I think. Are you staying at the Biltmore with the other wedding guests?"

"Perfect, he hooked you up with a room so you have your friends."

The penthouse wasn’t so she’d be with friends. "This is far nicer than my last minute plans."

"You deserve the best. Colt and that wedding disaster hurt you. You're beautiful both on the inside and out."

Her heart warmed her chest again. "You're just saying that because I'm your friend."

"I want you to have fun. Don't put your heart on the line to be destroyed again. Just relax and enjoy your date."

She pressed her lips together. "What do you mean?"

"You love deeply and never let go. Colt's ex came back from the dead. Don't let that one thing ruin your future. And if you do let Peter into your bed, remember who and what he is. Try to keep that heart of yours out of it."

Heat now expanded into all her limbs. Em was truly her best friend, though sex with Peter Morgan wasn't something she could discuss. Her face prickled from that thought. "Who is he really, though? There is something else going on."

"I don't know. You met him. You're going out with him tonight."

For one moment, he had her believing in the impossible. A cold shower would cure her. "I did. He's guarded. One woman already wants to scratch my eyes out, but I think he's nice."

"Ignore the jealous girl. He's nice?"

It wasn't hard to believe. "Yeah."

"You're a goner already."

No. This was bad enough. "I don't love easily."

"No, but you do love hard. Try to keep everything simple with this guy. He's not normal. Mr. Monopoly isn't someone you can take home to meet your dad. Your dad likes simple answers and wants you to date a mechanic."

Truer words weren't spoken. "See you soon, Em."

"Bye."

Belle marched up the circular stairs and went toward a bedroom. She found her original suitcase and opened it. She placed her mother's picture on the nightstand as she always did, though she wasn't sure she'd stay.

A knock on the door reverberated in the air. Peter leaning against the door right now would be all she needed to pass out on the floor. Belle clutched the handle then opened it to three women.

As she pressed her lips together, all three charged at her. One held a tape measure and one went for her hair as the other studied her. Belle's legs were restless as tingles grew in her chest.

One of the women said, "You'll need to wash so we can prepare you."

No one prepared her, except her. Her insides practically quivered as she tore herself away from them. "Who are you?"

The same one said, "Hair, makeup and clothes. We're here to ensure you are ready for tonight."

Did Hair, Makeup and Clothes use that as their names? Peter shouldn't pay for all this. Belle wrung her hands.

"I can't do my own hair?"

"Not like Nancy can."

Nancy must be the one that had tugged at her hair a minute ago. The one that spoke must be Clothes as she held the tape measure and said, "Did you pick your dress for tonight? Or was there a different designer you'd prefer we get for you? I need to ensure it's a perfect fit in every way."

The boxes were lined up in the front hall. Perhaps she'd only have to spend some of her savings and might return the others. She let out a breath, though she was still a little dizzy. "I've not looked."

Clothes shook her head. "I've hung everything in your closet."

Of course she had. She rested her arms on the table beside her and gazed toward the floor. "My mind is a whirlwind."

"Do you need us to bring in a doctor?" She rushed to open the closet as she said that. Miss Clothes was too much.

Belle held her stomach as she stood. "No. I need everyone to give me a half an hour to take a shower and then come back."

The three women nodded to each other and went to the door. "Yes, miss."

As soon as they left, Belle slammed it shut and rested on it. This dream was out of control. One night with one billionaire did not have to change everything about her.