Avery

Despite it being days since Hayden had touched me, the heat of his fingers still echoed against my skin every now and then. Particularly when I was alone and trying not to think of him. This early in the morning, the entire boat was silent and, attempting not to make a sound, I made my way up the spiral staircase and out through the main salon to the deck. The outside lights were on but dimmed and the sea was particularly still this morning—a sheet of black silk beneath us. A ribbon of fiery orange trailed across the horizon as the sun threatened to burst into the sky. It was beautiful. I leaned against the railing, breathing in the fresh air that would become almost stifling by mid-afternoon.

In moments like these, yachting was worth it. But they were fleeting.

The sliding doors behind me whizzed as they opened, and I stood straight and twirled around as if I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have been.

“Good morning,” I said as Hayden appeared, his hair rumpled and gray half-moons settled under his eyes. I was more pleased to see him than I should have been. I spread my arms, presenting the horizon, which was threatening to burst into flames. “The sunrise is putting on a show.”

Hayden glanced from the sky to me. I was probably grinning a little too widely and looked like a maniac, but I couldn’t help it. It was so beautiful.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Was he laughing at me? “These moments have to be enjoyed, that’s all.”

He strode toward me, reached out and squeezed my upper arm. “You’re absolutely right.”

His touch momentarily paralyzed me before I found my voice. I needed some space, some distance. “Can I get you a juice while you enjoy the view?” I asked, stepping sideways toward the door.

He turned away from the sky to look at me and frowned. “Stay. This is a moment to be enjoyed, to share.”

I knew I shouldn’t stay. “I have a lot to do. I need to—I should really . . .”

“Stay.” He said it so simply, so finally, there was no arguing with him. I stepped up next to where he leaned against the rail, watching as the orange edged into pink and bled into the black.

“Sunrises aren’t something that should be witnessed alone,” he said after several minutes had passed.

We stood facing forward and he turned his head to me. I glanced at him, as the beginnings of the day caught the sharp edge of his jaw.

My body relaxed and I leaned forward next to him, our elbows just an inch apart.

“Thank you—this was just what I needed.” Did he mean he needed the sunrise or me staying to watch it with him? He unclasped his hands and shifted closer, our elbows touching as he trailed his knuckles over my hand as if to reinforce his gratitude. I glanced down to where our skin touched, then back up to find his eyes fixed on mine.

Though it was just his hand against mine, the gesture belied the nature of our relationship: guest and stewardess. We weren’t lovers or friends. Maybe it was the ocean air or the magnificent sky, but the more time I spent in this man’s orbit, the more I thought maybe I wanted to be friends with him, know him a little better, understand his changes in mood and temperament, know what drove him.

“I’m glad,” I whispered, our arms still close enough I could feel the heat of him. If he was happy that meant I was doing my job. Although the way my heart swelled, and my cheeks heated, it felt less like a job and more like a calling. Or fate. Something bigger than I’d known before.

Yachts and boats on the water and the shapes of buildings and trees along the shore began to come into focus and everything filled with color as the sun crept out from behind the horizon. The whole coast seemed to yawn and stretch as it slowly came to life.

A flock of geese flew overhead, breaking the comfortable silence, and we tipped our heads back, trying to drink in every sight and sound.

“I’m normally at the gym by now,” he said as he settled his gaze back on the skyline. “I’m not sure I notice whether the sun has risen or not when I’m in London.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes it’s easy to miss the beauty in the everyday.”

Hayden’s gaze dropped to my mouth and back up. “That’s my biggest fault. I don’t make enough of each moment.”

I felt the same. I was so focused on the job, on the tip, on taking care of my family, being in this beautiful place barely registered. It was almost as if I hadn’t let myself enjoy it. As if I were punishing myself. “I can’t remember the last time I watched the sunrise.”

Hayden shifted so he was facing me, still leaning on one elbow against the aluminum balustrade. “But surely that’s why you’re here? To take advantage of the setting?”

I shrugged, self-conscious under the full force of his attention. “The job can be a lot. Sometimes on my days off, I just sleep.”

“I assumed that people who worked on these yachts did it because they loved the traveling.”

“Some do.” I knew some people took the job to feed their wanderlust, but for me it had only ever been about the money.

“But not you. Do you get a lot of time to explore?” he asked as if he were trying to nail down my motivations, as if he were trying to get to know me.

“We get a day or so between charters.” I tried to concentrate on the view but all I was conscious of was Hayden Wolf and how close he was and how my skin set alight every time he touched me.

“How long do those usually last?” he asked as his eyes followed a strand of my hair, set free by the breeze.

“A few days to a couple of weeks.”

“So eight weeks is a long charter,” he said, almost to himself.

“Usually there’s a month’s break between the Med season and the Caribbean season. That’s when most people do their traveling.”

“Usually?”

“This charter was a little early, so I flew straight in from Miami, not that I had travelling planned. Unless you count Pavilions Mall in Sacramento.”

He laughed. “I don’t think you need a Lonely Planet guide for that. So you’re doing two seasons back to back. It doesn’t show.”

“I have good lighting,” I replied as I pointed at the sun. “And a good crew. And one unfussy guest.”

“I can be very demanding,” he said, pinning me with a stare. “You haven’t seen all of me yet.”

My pulse throbbed in my neck as his gravelly voice echoed through me. Heat rose up my body, and I snapped my head around to focus on the water.

Silence pulsed between us as I concentrated on keeping my breathing steady. I should go but I wanted to see what was next.

“Where would you take this boat if this was your charter?” he asked eventually, the heat between us having cooled to a simmer.

Was he interested or being polite? I wanted to tell him everything.

I smiled. “Italy is beautiful. Taormina in Sicily is as breathtaking as it gets. I’ve only ever been for an hour here or there but from what I’ve seen it’s desperately . . .” I stopped myself from finishing my sentence, from telling him how romantic I’d found Taormina the twice I’d managed to set a foot on dry land there.

He inhaled and stood, and I could only focus on how his chest expanded and his body seemed to take up all the space around me.

“Do you vacation a lot?” I asked, wanting to prolong our interaction, and still unclear why we hadn’t left the spot we’d started in two weeks ago.

He chuckled. “Hardly.” He leaned back on the railing, facing away from the view that had brought us here.

It was strange that he was my guest and yet here we were both working. I should be trying to lighten his load. “Have you thought about changing your surroundings a little? You could at least watch the sunrise light up a different coastline.” He’d enjoyed the sunrise and he might enjoy a different view. If I could do anything to make his experience on the Athena better, I would.

He frowned as if he hadn’t really contemplated the idea, but Captain Moss would have talked him through the options.

“Just a thought.” I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. “I know relaxation—the food, the wine, the ambience—isn’t your priority here, but in the nanoseconds that you allow yourself to relax, it could be nice to have a different view.”

He nodded, and I stared out over the water, as he focused on something that wasn’t the view. For a moment I wondered if I was the only one who felt the link between us. It was as if we were being drawn toward each other by an invisible current—I wanted to stop swimming against the pull and let myself drift toward him, but I knew that wasn’t an option. And anyway, he’d be gone soon enough.

“I’d need someone to share those sunrises with,” he said.

Before I had the chance to respond or to analyze what he’d said, a crash in the kitchen brought me back to the moment. I straightened and checked my watch. It was a few minutes after seven, which meant Neill had started to prepare breakfast. It also meant Hayden and I had been admiring the Med for almost an hour. “I’m officially on shift,” I said, taking a deep breath as if it would magically transform me from tourist to waitress. “What would you like for breakfast?” I asked, knowing the answer would be eggs.

Hayden stood and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. I pulled my hair into a ponytail while Hayden watched, his gaze flitting from my face to my hands, down my body and up.

“You’ve been up all night,” I said. “Maybe you should sleep rather than eat.”

“You’re probably right.” He stretched, the edge of his shirt lifting past his waistband to reveal a bronzed ribbon of skin—my own personal sunrise.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block him out. “I’ll ask Neill for some eggs.” I turned and headed toward the sliding doors.

“Thank you,” he called after me.

I turned my head to smile. He was watching me, and the warmth that rose in my belly shouldn’t have been there. Perhaps I shouldn’t have suggested he catch the sunrise. I definitely shouldn’t have stayed to watch it with him, and I was certain that this feeling of connection I had to him was one-sided.

And it needed to end. Fast.

Hayden

The squawk of seagulls pulled me from my nap and as I opened my eyes, even though I had my sunglasses on, I had to shield myself from the glare of the sun. I checked my watch. I’d been asleep four hours, ever since I’d slumped on my lounger after breakfast. I glanced at my laptop, which was firmly closed beside me. It was just coming up to one local time, so the U.S. wasn’t even at their desks yet. I’d not missed anything.

“Mr. Wolf,” the captain said as he came through the sliding doors of the main living space.

I stood to shake his hand. He checked in with me daily to ensure everything was okay and to ask if I wanted to pull up the anchor to go somewhere else. I’d always insisted I was fine where I was, but now I was in the mood for a change of scene. Avery had been right about so many things. She’d helped me set the Phoenix acquisition back on track, after all, so how could she be wrong about changing up the scenery? And if she liked Italy, then Italy was where we were taking this boat.

“I was thinking we could make our way down the Italian coast over the next week.”

Captain Moss nodded, probably relieved he was going to get to do something. “Absolutely. Do you want to leave today?”

“At your convenience,” I replied.

“We can get going this afternoon. The weather is good, and the winds are low.”

“I thought we could end up in Taormina.”

“That’s a great spot. No problem at all.”

He turned to leave, but I added, “I’m aware that this is a longer charter than most, Captain.”

“Yes, but we’re delighted you’re on board.” I was used to recruiting people for their skills, not their charm. I wasn’t a man who reveled in pleasantries and small talk. I preferred to cut to the chase. Captain Moss had a similar temperament, but I appreciated the effort he made.

I nodded. “But I am here alone and require very little looking after. I appreciate that the crew might need to blow off some steam, after all, I’ve already been on board two weeks. I’d like to drop anchor somewhere and give the crew the night off.” I got the impression I was less demanding than most, but the crew shouldn’t be expected to work eight weeks without some time off. I might have been betrayed by a senior employee, but I still believed treating people with respect produced their best work. And their loyalty. Most of the time. People labeled me a generous employer, but I was motivated by self-interest—you got what you deserved most of the time.

“That’s not necessary, Mr. Wolf. The crew are assigned enough free time.”

Of course he’d push back, but my mind was set. “I appreciate when we’re not in dock I can’t be the only one left onboard, but I’m sure most of the crew can be given the evening off. Shall we say tomorrow from six?”

Captain Moss hesitated. “That is more than generous. Rest assured I will be on board at all times along with one of my engineers.”

“As you wish.” I shook his hand.

“I’ll get us moving as soon as I can.”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

I’d been selfish by insisting I deal only with Avery, and I hadn’t even realized until I’d seen her with her hair down watching the sunrise this morning, trying to steal a few moments for herself. I wanted to be the one who gave her those moments. She’d earned it—talking through the issues I had with Phoenix had genuinely helped. I could get stuck in the numbers, but she’d been right—this deal was all about people. Watching the sunrise with her, where she’d let joy replace her professional veneer, had been breathtaking and infectious. I was pretty sure I’d enjoy watching a traffic jam if I was watching it with her.

For a few moments, as we’d faced the new day together, we’d been just two people enjoying the dawn. I’d remembered what it was like to feel free from the pressure of my whole world on the brink of collapse.

It had been over all too quickly, and we’d both returned to our respective pressures—although she was far too professional to give away that her long hours were a problem. But she’d clearly not had the break between seasons she normally did, and that was down to me. While I couldn’t relieve that pressure again so easily for me, I could do it for Avery. Giving her and the rest of the crew the night off meant I could reimagine her and that easy manner she had when she wasn’t on duty. Even if I wasn’t there to witness it, it was reward enough to know she’d leave her hair loose and wear that warm generous smile somewhere ashore.

Avery Walker deserved the night off. And it felt good to be the one who could make that happen for her.