I sat out on my balcony, sipping an iced tea, the outside of my glass dappled with early-morning sweat, the day already growing humid. Despite the glorious sunrise, the occasional cool breeze rippled through my hair, I couldn't help but frown. The other night, with Riley, didn't go exactly as I had expected. After she had gotten over her initial discomfort at the restaurant, we'd had a nice time. At least I thought so. She'd offered no hints, no suggestions, no overtures to suggest that we seal our deal, so to speak. No teasing, no… no real interest.

That was new to me. I had women fawning over me all the time. Not to be conceited, because as the old saying went, it's not bragging if it happened. I had never, at least not since high school, had to beg, convince, or cajole a woman to sleep with me. On the way home from the restaurant, before dropping her off at her parents' house, I'd halfway believed that Riley would insist that I take her to a hotel so that we could get it over with. Even after I told her I'd like to see her again, she should have slammed on her mental breaks and insisted that the deal be concluded, consummated, whatever you want to call it.

She hadn't. She'd offered that slight, cool nod, then shut the car door softly and walked to her front door as if she made deals like this every day. But I knew she didn't. I had done my homework. I had a guy who I used sometimes and he'd told me she worked most of the time, went home, or ran errands. No boyfriends, past or present.

What disturbed me was the fact that I couldn't deny her appeal. She was a good looking woman. A woman with all the right bumps and curves in all the right places. I could take her in my office and the deal would be done… but I didn’t want to go that route. No, Riley Hunt deserved to be… I shook my head. What was I thinking? I wasn’t courting the girl, was not looking to fall in love with her or make her fall in love with me… but still… she deserved more than a quickie. Especially since she was a virgin.

I grimaced. Since when was it my responsibility to make her first time memorable? Gentle? She's the one who'd broached the outrageous agreement in the first place. What did she expect? Still…

Tonight, it would be no holds barred, at least on my account. I would seduce her, and it wasn't because of this stupid agreement. Screw the agreement. Come hell or high water, I'd get Riley so wound up that she begged me to take her. But then, much to my own dismay, I hesitated yet again. I scowled at the water in the channel, idly watched as my yacht gently rocked on the water, ever so slightly, trying to get a handle on my intentions. What was the matter with me? It hit me like a ton of bricks. Cliché, yes, but apropos.

My hesitance wasn't about the agreement. Now it was about proving to myself that I still had it, that I could coerce, seduce, or tempt any woman into my bed. I wasn't a hunk of liver. No. But Riley didn't seem at all anxious to sleep with me. She wasn't about money, either, not like other women I'd known. She wanted the money, but not for herself. And it was for a zero-interest loan to boot.

I knew most of the women I've dated in the past were not just interested in my reputation in bed, but also my fat bank account, which was one reason that my one-night stands with them were just that. But Riley was different. I had everything she didn't and yet she didn't seem to care. I had more money than I knew what to do with, this house on the bay that I had purchased for millions of dollars, free and clear. She was struggling in a paycheck to paycheck job, living in a comfortable yet tiny house in a working-class neighborhood. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. Her family should be commended for their hard work and determination to save their house, but why wasn't she falling all over herself to take advantage of the situation? I didn't understand it.

So what it came down to, for me at least, was proving to myself that it wasn't just my money or my good looks that attracted women to me. Or was it? I set the glass of iced tea down on the side table, not happy with the direction of my thoughts. I glanced at the phone on the table beside me, picked it up, accessed my contact list and pressed the icon I'd devised for Riley, a simple image of a yellow daisy. Stupid maybe, but it was unobtrusive and seemed to fit. When she answered the call, slightly out of breath, I knew she was at work, so I kept it quick.

"You free Saturday night?"

"I'm scheduled," she said coolly. "But I suppose I could get Sadie to fill in for me."

"I'll pick you up to your house at six o'clock—"

"Please don't," she said. "There's a coffee shop down the street on the corner. Pick me up there."

I didn't even have a chance to respond before the call disconnected. I frowned and eyed my phone, then lifted an eyebrow. Had the gauntlet been thrown down? A line drawn in the sand? I almost smiled as I set the phone down on the table, retrieved my glass of tea, and then stared out at the bay, looking forward more than anything to Saturday night and our second date.

I watched Riley's expression carefully as I helped her aboard my twin diesel yacht from my personal dock and gave her a grand tour of the craft - the full beam master state room, two bathrooms (his and hers), a guest cabin with its own bathroom, a large cockpit for entertainment, and an ample sized back deck. Inside, the interior decked out with highly glossed teak wood and plush cushions on the bench like seating hugging the walls. The cockpit was fully equipped with all the amenities I could want, including a huge flat screen TV and wet bar. A teak dining table separated the cockpit with the ample galley with shotgun style kitchen, its black marble countertops and tiled splash boards shined to a mirror gloss. I could cook a gourmet meal in here if I wanted to, but most often, didn't.

I was impressed by her reaction. While she certainly admired the craft and once or twice her fingertips brushed along the glossed wood or cool, marble countertop, she didn’t gush about it like so many other women in the past had. I liked that. I could tell she appreciated it, but the more time I spent with Riley, the more convinced I became that materialistic things like multimillion dollar mansions, yachts, or money didn't impress her as much as character. Now that was a change of pace, wasn't it? And here I was, trying to bowl her over with all my toys, my fancy house, of which I'd also given her a tour, and which, like now, she had admired and yet restrained any awestruck reaction. So while Riley might covet the things I had, she didn't display any hint of jealousy, anger, or, let's face it, the unfairness of life.

"This is a beautiful boat." She commented.

I guided her back out onto the deck and climbed up a small ladder, gesturing for her to follow topside where she could sit on yet another comfortably cushioned bench against a top deck railing a short distance behind my captain's chair. She eschewed by hand to help her up the ladder. I decided one more time to try to impress her, just to see if she'd bite.

"This baby has just over fourteen hundred horsepower, with an engine power of just over seven hundred, and she can cruise at fourteen knots. If I had to push her, she could go up to seventeen."

"How big is the gas tank?"

Her question took me off guard and then I barely choked back a bark of laughter. I didn't fool her a bit with the boat stats, and she'd given it right back to me. What an interesting woman… I answered her question anyway, even though I figured she could care less. "The fuel tanks can hold about fifteen hundred gallons."

She said nothing but merely looked at me and shrugged. Was that a small grin I saw? I kept going, just to see what she would do next. "Bow and stern thrusters, stabilizers, exceptional electronics, and two generators, plus Gyro stabilization and all that."

She offered to small laugh. "I have no idea what any of that means."

I grinned. "All it means is that this is a safe boat, and she'll get us where we're going and back again."

"And where exactly is that?"

I pointed. "Across the bay. There's a resort over there with a neat little tiki bar, lounge chairs, and at this time of day, a secluded beach. What do you say?"

"I hope you've got good sunscreen."

Again I laughed, then took my place in the captain's chair, adjusted some levers, pushed the button that started the engine, and resisting the urge to look back at her, guided the boat from the slip and crawled along the channel until we hit the bay. After that, I opened her up, the wind blowing through my hair. I did risk of glance back at her then and saw her lifting her face to the sunshine, her eyes closed, a smile on her lips as the wind took her hair and blew it out like a waving blonde flag behind her. I felt the clinch in my gut at the sight of her, frowned, then turned back around, paying close attention to the lanes and other boaters out in the bay.

We did go to the tiki bar and lounge on the beach, and then ended the day at one of the quaint, private restaurants on the resort. We enjoyed a quiet dinner conversation, and then for some reason, I'm not sure how it started, Riley started talking about her family, hesitantly at first, and then with a great sense of pride and love. Despite the financial challenges, I got the distinct impression that her family was close, tightly knit, and extremely loyal to one another.

It got me thinking about my own family and my strained relationship with my mom, but then I quickly pushed thoughts of her from my mind. As with the other night at the restaurant in St. Pete, I realized once again that I was truly enjoying Riley's company. While occasionally I remembered that this was just an agreement, I couldn't help but feel an attraction to her and her simplicity, honesty, and her openness. She wasn't naïve. She might be inexperienced with dating and of course, with sex, but she wasn't a pushover. She wasn't particularly impressed with how rich I was, and that realization evoked feelings that I'd never experienced before.

So much so that the next sentence I blurted out left us both surprised. I sounded almost needy! "I've had fun today. Would you like to go back to my house for a while, have a drink?" The hint was there… so much for my smooth seduction. I hadn't so much as reached for her hand, caressed a shoulder, or traced a finger along that delectable jawline of hers. I felt almost… nervous. I worked to keep my expression blank as she replied.

Her answer wasn't at all what he expected.

"Wyatt, I've had a lovely time. Fantastic, actually, and I really enjoyed myself," she began. "And although I'm tempted, it's been a really long day and I have the early shift at work tomorrow. Rain check?"

I wasn't completely disappointed, but a bit surprised. Was she throwing my own game back in my face? Now who was teasing who? Or was she? Did she know how the game was played? I didn't get the impression that she was doing anything deliberately. Her cheeks flushed with the excitement of the day, her eyes bright and shining, her dinner plate scraped clean, which also amused me, I realized that maybe I had her all wrong. Did she have me pegged? Wanting to see how far she could take this wining and dining part? I supposed it didn't matter.

I nodded, told her that of course I understood, and besides, even though my dick was beginning to grow little bit impatient, my urges growing a little bit stronger, I figured that at least this would be another chance for me to see her again.

Lucky me.