The next morning, birds chirped outside a window. They echoed in her brain as if they were drilling holes in her head. Belle swallowed and tried to ignore how her body swayed. She rubbed her temples and then winced at her morning breath.

The bed rocked. She'd never drink that much champagne and she never would ever again. She sat straight and stared out the windows around her and into the beautiful blue ocean. No buildings were anywhere. The ship gently swayed in calm waters.

She turned around in her bunk and saw she was alone. Her clothes were all still on, though her bra pressed into her breasts like the metal was tangled. The last thing she remembered was Peter holding her in his strong arms. He must not have taken her home, not that she told him her hotel. She massaged her temples as her bed bobbed with the current.

Peter Morgan had them sailing someplace last night. She had no idea where they might be now. She stood and turned around to stare out the huge windows. The Miami skyline or any land was missing. As she stood, her stomach churned as she stumbled. She held onto the wall and made her way toward the bathroom.

She flipped on the light, and it burned her eyes. Her head throbbed. She held onto the sink and let the wave that gently passed under the ship calm her. She glanced toward the sink again. A supply of small bottles and a new toothbrush were lined up to help her clean up.

A few minutes later, something splashed in the water. Her head throbbed less, though her stomach begged for something to eat. The engines weren't on. She crossed her arms and stepped out into the blazing sun.

There was no shade anywhere. The brightness again almost blinded her, but she covered her face and saluted the ocean. Clearly the ocean won against her today. Another splash echoed from the water. She covered her forehead so she might see what was in the water as she gazed.

Then a pair of dolphins bobbed their heads next to the ship. She fell to her knees and reached out like she might pet them. The two passed gracefully and sang. Her fingers ached to feel what a dolphin must be like, but nothing brushed against her. She closed her fingers, but then a strong pair of hands caught her wrist and yanked.

She tugged out of his strong grip but failed. So she yelled, "Hey."

Peter's brown hair and eyes came out of the water. Her mouth fell open as she stared at his chiseled, naked chest. His white teeth shone as he lightly pulled on her wrist.

"Come swim."

Belle pressed her lips together. She shook her head. "Are you mad? I don't have a suit."

His wet fingers held onto her wrist as her heartbeat grew faster. "When's the last time dolphins came this close to you?"

"Never." She gulped. His brown eyes were as mesmerizing as the dolphins that circled him. This wasn't fair. She licked her lips. "But I'm in my fancy dress."

He tilted his head to the dolphins. "I'll buy you another. Come in before you miss this."

This was one of those moments she'd never forget. Her skin was electric. This was a dream. She swallowed and jumped into the ocean. Peter's arms found her waist and tugged her toward the surface. Her bra needed to go anyway. Once it was thrown on the deck, she splashed and laughed. Then she peered at the ocean waiting, but nothing was there. She spit out the water in her mouth and intended to speak, but then something smooth brushed against her leg.

She covered her lips, unable to breathe a word. Peter took her hand, and she saw even more of his strong muscles. She licked her salty lips but then swallowed the water. She coughed as a dolphin's smooth, slippery skin bopped next to her. Her free hand reached out and petted its long nose. It let her and didn't move for a moment. The dolphin's nose brushed past her lips as it dove beside her.

A giggle escaped her.

Then Peter's arms grabbed hers, and he motioned for them to swim. The smell of oak was still present, so it wasn't any fancy aftershave that made her wish for things she shouldn't. The breast stroke came back to her, and she followed. The dolphins circled them once more and then swam too fast away from them.

They swam for a moment in silence. Peter's hand on hers sent a tremble through her and knocked away her senses. If he held her close or tried to kiss her, she'd let him. Her lips puckered, though the salt water inched into her throat and made her cough.

Peter pointed her to the ship, and she swam on her own beside him.

As they floated, she didn't see a cloud in the sky. This was all like a dream.

Once they made it to the ship, he let her take the ladder first. As she latched onto the metal bars, she told herself to wake up. Then she climbed onto the deck, Peter's shadow covered hers. She squeezed her ruined black dress against the side of the ship to let the ocean have some of its water back.

Peter's arms brushed against hers as he joined her. He made his way right toward the deck chair that held enough towels for both of them. He handed her one and wrapped her in another. His wall of muscles that surrounded her sent her body temperature climbing.

Then he wrapped himself in a towel and said, "Let's get you inside. You're already sunburned. I'll scrounge up some clothes for you to wear."

His tan was perfect. She held her question of whether his color went under his suit. Instead she massaged her neck and followed.

He pointed to a room. "I'll have clothes sent to your room. Meet me in five minutes on the second floor for breakfast?"

She nodded. What else might she say? Then she retraced her steps and returned. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why he had women’s clothes, but she hadn’t.

She washed off in the bathroom. When she came out, she found a pair of men’s shorts with an elastic waist and a tee shirt. She dropped her clothes in a pile on the floor as she changed.

---

Five minutes later, she walked into a room a floor above hers and entered a sitting area that displayed a tray of breakfast pastries and coffee. She dried her hands on the towel and then sat. Peter had waited for her without touching any dish, and he stood until she sat. As she lowered herself, he handed her a napkin and retook his seat.

"Does this happen to you all the time?"

"You mean the dolphins?"

"Yes. They’re my personal pets." He poured them both coffees as the engines purred on underneath their feet.

“You’re joking.”

“Yeah.” He handed her the cup. "I don’t know if beautiful creatures like them should be locked up, and besides, I don’t want an aquarium."

“They would require a lot of fish on a daily basis. Not the best pets. Perhaps you should get a dog?” Her fingers ached to touch him. She lowered her gaze. "And does swimming count as something unexpected?"

“No time for the care of any dogs and my maid would not like the extra work, I’m sure.” He added cream to his coffee. His chin bobbed as if he gave her words deep thought. "As for swimming, I'll give that a yes."

A slow smile built on her face. "I wasn't always so hard, you know. Most people would find my kind of fun rather boring."

"If boring is the worst they say about you, then it's not that bad."

"What do people say about you?"

“Much worse.” How his eyes widened made her stomach do a flip. Then he said, "Drink your coffee.”

“What do they say?”

“I don’t care what others say or think, but I've been a selfish jerk for years that never needed anyone."

"You tell yourself you're a jerk but don't see how nice you truly are." She squeezed her hair again and licked her lips. He was hard on himself. "And your siblings clearly love you."

He shook his head. "I don't deserve it."

She placed the coffee on the table and rubbed his knee. "Why?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "They left. I protected them from our father, but I did whatever he wanted. I was Mitch Morgan's heir and entitled to everything.”

“Did you act like your father?”

“I hope not, but he trained me. They didn't have to take the same lessons, over and over again. They didn't watch our mom walk out the door. And when they were big enough, they ran away. Do you know what it's like to be so spoiled and know you are being spoiled because you're the heir? It's like a poison that runs through the veins."

“Don’t torture yourself.” Her own father needed her to ensure that his retirement went well, but he had saved for years. He enjoyed himself now, and the weight on her shoulders wasn't like Peter's. Her legs parted as she leaned closer to him. “You did what you could to help those you loved and didn’t push them away.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You spoke more about caring about your family than you did about being selfish.”

“You really are optimistic.”

"Let me ask you another question. So when you were talking about me doing the unexpected, you were discussing yourself too?"

"No. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want."

"Or do you now act out to spite your father?"

His eyes widened again. "Smart and inquisitive."

The colors in his eyes that swam and fueled her fantasy of this moment didn't matter. She slumped in her chair and picked up her coffee to break the spell she was in. "Besides all your money and power, you're scared."

"Me?" He raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"You don't let people in. Your guard might be stronger than my own."

"The dolphin swim must have really loosened my brain."

Hers too, not that she'd say that. She held her breath and tried to rein in her inhibitions. She glanced out the window, but the distraction didn't work. She was still in this room with him, and it felt cozy and warm.

She sighed. "Tell you what, I don't want to go to your sister's wedding alone to sit with my friends and feel sorry for myself. I have this idea."

"I'm listening."

"Good." She probably blushed as she said, "I'd like for us to stay at each other's side for the day. If you can trust me a little, then I can trust you."

"Like a date?"

Her heartbeat was so rapid in her chest now. "Yeah, I guess."

His hands brushed her knee, and her hair rose on her skin from the electrical shock. "Why can you trust me?"

"You can say no."

"I won't. I just want to know why you trust me of all people."

She sipped her coffee, though the caffeine made her heart slight worse. She held the handle tighter. "You let me sleep off the obviously too much champagne."

He picked up a croissant from the tray of food and placed it in front of her. "Of course I did. I don't need to rape or pillage to get what I want."

No, women lined up at his door for one night. She read the newspapers that lined the food aisle.

"You were a gentleman. And even more important, to me, is that you told me about yourself. I'm willing to try and trust you, for one night."

His chin jetted out as he held his cup in his hands. "I'm looking forward to our date then, but I'll hold out for that kiss of yours."

"What?"

He winked at her again. "I promised you'd ask me. I'll be your date tonight, but I'm telling you my hope. At the end of it, I hope I get to taste you."

Her cup jittered. She grabbed the bottom of the cup so she'd not spill. "Don't hold out for that."

"I can't help it. You fascinate me."

They had a date of sorts. She'd have someone to sit with tonight, and with the cameras in her face, there was no way she'd break down.

She added butter to her croissant. "So are we going to float in the ocean all day or at some point do we head back to Miami?"

"The Bahamas have some nice shopping."

"I didn't pack my passport."

His dimples showed. He stood and strode across the room. "That's disappointing. Hold on. I'll call my captain."

She shook her head. "You're sweet."

As she waited, she nibbled on her croissant. She swallowed. The bread was soft and dewy and freshly made. She swallowed the whole thing, and she wiped her mouth has he returned to his seat.

"Done. I cancelled our private beach villa morning. We'll head back to Miami now. As my date tonight, there are expectations. Will you allow my handlers to ensure everything is picture perfect for tonight?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Handlers?"

"They keep my name clean in the press. I want to avoid negative publicity as much as possible."

One of the reasons she wanted to go with him was to seem unaffected. She'd never cry about her own silly heart if she was surrounded. She gulped her coffee. "Okay."

Again he had those sexy dimples. Rich men shouldn't be granted good looks. It was a double whammy. She held out her cup, and the blasted man had manners enough to refill it as he asked, "The Biltmore will know the Morgan Enterprise people."

"I'm not staying there."

"Why not? It's where we put up all the out of town guests."

"I didn't know I was coming."

"What hotel are you staying at?"

Her hands shook as she held the saucer. She tried to hide it and gazed out the window again. "The Extended Stay."

The glass reflected the frown on his face and read his opinion perfectly. "I'll change your hotel. You should be with the rest of the wedding guests."

Her hotel suited her needs. She was perfectly fine, but her voice sounded like a chipmunk as she asked, "What?"

"I can't have my date return to some place unacceptable. My mother already disappeared. My sister faked her death. The last thing I need is more women who up and disappear. So jot down your room number and I’ll have my people move you."

All that information overload meant she didn't register anything about his mother or sister. It was all a blur, though she tried to see through it. "You can't buy me Peter."

"We all have our price tags on what we'll compromise on. The rest of the day isn't about buying favors for you. This is about ensuring everyone at my sister's wedding is taken care of. I'm still the selfish jerk I always was. Don't forget that part."

She placed her coffee on the table and scratched her head. "I don't understand."

"You will. See you tonight. Accept the dress for the one I ruined on you and the rest of the stuff you need to be my date."

"I can get my own dress."

"You and I don't live in the same worlds. Don't think of anything as more than armor to protect yourself, like the uniform you must have worn in the Marines."

"I do go to parties in DC with senators and representatives a lot."

"Those people all service men like me, Belle. Let my staff do its job so you're comfortable with the cameras."

"Okay, I guess." She feigned interest in her nails and wrote her hotel information on a slip of paper, though she couldn't stop her question. "Are you sure you're real?"

"Don't worry. There is always a catch with me, and for you it's a kiss."

He sipped his coffee and bit into the croissant like he hadn't said something monumental. She picked up her cup and accepted that near Peter Morgan her heart beat faster, but it wasn't fear. She sipped her cup. "We’ve had progress, you and I.”

“We have?”

“Sure. I'm not anxious near you anymore, so that's good, but I also don't promise anything else."

He brushed the outline of his morning beard that he hadn't shaved yet. "Belle, there is something fascinating about you."

“You keep using that word when you talk about me.” She crossed her arms. She should have been clearer. "Either way though, that kiss probably won't happen."

"We'll see. Probably means I still have a chance."

"Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I learned hope from you.” He didn't say anything else and her heart raced with the truth. He might be right. For a moment she hoped he'd rip off her shirt and kiss her hard, right now. She sipped her coffee. This fantasy about Peter was new. She had never expected to become attracted to him, but there was no way, she’d let fantasy interfere with cold hard reality.