After dinner, they watched the sun sweep gold and orange hues over the ocean as though weaving a liquid banner to the heavens. The colors danced, seemingly chaotic, yet with the most beautiful coordination. So touched by the display, Naia had to choke back tears brought on by the ethereal scene.

Or maybe she was still overwhelmed by the man at her side.

Sometime during dinner, the boat had set off. Behind them, the land was now fading to a dim silhouette peppered by building lights and streetlamps that were still visible from this distance. As the sun made its crescendo past the horizon, Cortez silently pulled her into his lap, wrapping one arm around her waist while he held his drink in the other. Together they gazed out at the sea. He seemed so at ease with their closeness. So content. She was getting there.

Throughout her meal, she had fretted over his earlier statement. Finally. She couldn’t figure it out, having already dismissed her initial assumption: that he’d finally met the woman of his dreams?

As if.

Though she’d probably never be rolling in dough like Cortez, she was generally happy with her life, liked herself as a person, and tried to be as honest as one could reasonably be these days—current assignment excluded. But most of all, she wasn’t stupid! Love at first sight was a fabricated myth, invented by story tellers and romantics.

But what else could he have meant by that laden word? If he was slumming, as she’d accused, he was playing the cruelest joke of all. Messing with her heart. Setting her up to be crushed.

But if he wasn’t....?

A ringing erupted from her purse. Oh that’s right, she had a cell phone now. And the only person who would be calling it was...

She jumped up and scrambled for her phone. “Cole?” Her voice was a little high-pitched from anxiety. Was he in trouble?

“Naia? Hi, how are you doing?” Cole replied coolly.

“I’m fine,” she answered hastily. “Is something wrong?”

“No. I’m about to head into work and I just wanted to check in.”

Translation: he was checking up on her. She didn’t blame him. Relief made her release a tenuous breath. Giving Cortez an I’m-going-to-take-this-in-private gesture, she climbed down to the lower deck and made her way to the railing at the front of the ship.

Secret mission aside, she and Cole were always one-hundred percent honest with each other— current assignment excluded—so she didn’t think twice about opening up to him. “You won’t believe where I am!”

“Well I hope it’s more interesting than behind the bar at the Pussy Pit.”

She scowled. “You know I hate when you call it that.”

“I know. Why do you think I do it?”

“You’re such an ass.” She hissed. “Well, prepare to be sick with envy, mister crude-face, because I am sailing the ocean blue...on a friggin’ yacht! And I tried caviar for the first time! Which is disgusting by the way.” Cortez had laughed after her eyes had bulged and she’d asked if it had gone rotten. When he told her it was fresh, premium stuff, she couldn’t help thinking rich people were nuts to eat this crud! The guy who popularized fish eggs as a delicacy was either a marketing genius or the greatest prankster of all time. Probably laughed his ass off all the way to his grave.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Are you with that guy?” Cole asked evenly.

“His name’s Cortez.”

“Should I be worried?” His tone was soft now. Concerned.

She bit her lip. “No.” Probably.

“Why did that sound like a question?”

She tried again with more conviction. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Let me talk to him.”

It was her turn to be silent now. No way in hell was she letting the two of them chat.

“Naia, I want to talk to him.”

“Why?”

Before she received an answer, movement caught her eye. Cortez was suddenly next to her, holding out his palm for the phone. A little stunned that she hadn’t heard his approach, she passed it over before even realizing what she was doing.

Phone to his ear, free hand in his pocket, he was all business. “Hello Cole, this is Cortez.” There was also a level of amusement that seemed to ripple off him.

Cole was saying something on the other end, but she couldn’t make it out.

“I promise to take very good care of her,” Cortez replied, smirking at her.

Naia rolled her eyes.

There was another pause, and then Cortez blinked wide. At her questioning look, he covered the receiver to mouth, “He’s threatening me.”

Humiliation and horror flooded her. “Give me the phone,” she demanded, reaching for it.

Cortez dodged her attempt. “That’s very graphic,” he countered to Cole. “The whole foot? Or just the tip?”

“Cole!” she yelled, still grappling for the phone. “Stop it, right now!”

“Well, you could try,” Cortez said, as though responding to another barrage of threats. To avoid her grasping clutches, he turned away and headed back up to the top deck, the receiver glued to his ear while he commented, “Uh-huh. Oh really?”

She followed close behind, but he continued to elude her desperate reach.

“While that sounds like fun, let me assure you, your sister is in good hands. She is the most precious of treasures. I will let nothing happen to her.”

She abandoned her caper at his touching words. Cole seemed to have been rendered silent as well, giving Cortez the opportunity for a brisk, “Have yourself a good night,” before hanging up and shocking the hell out of her by remarking, “I like him.”

She let out a clipped laughed, still reeling at his words. Precious treasure? Surely he said that for Cole’s benefit.

Grabbing her by the hand, Cortez guided her back to the bench where they had been seated earlier. She stared at their intertwining fingers, the heat of his palm seeping into hers. She was suddenly breathless.

He took a seat, facing her as she stood before him in a daze. Their positions had him looking up at her while she gazed down, but there was a challenge on his end. Like he was daring her to take the lead.

Mentally shaking away her nerves, she eased onto his lap, knees on either side of him. The action caused her dress to inch high up her thighs, but she didn’t care. It put them closer, which at the moment was imperative. Her arms circled his neck; his strong hands folded her waist, the delicious warmth of his palms now penetrating the fabric of her dress.

Emboldened, she dipped her head. Their lips met, soft at first, just a feather touch before turning harder, and then desperate, crushing, the shackles of lust slicing free. Nothing mattered but getting as close to him as possible. Kissing him harder.

His palms slipped over the contours of her sides, trailing a hot path that she could feel through the fabric of her dress. His hands found their way under the hem. He growled when he found her pantyless. She hadn’t been permitted to try any on in the store, so what she’d bought was still packed away. His expression turned carnal as he cupped her sex. Her hips rocked as if to tease his grip, her body already primed. A thick finger penetrated, pulling a gasp from her. Her head fell back as he played her, giving her exactly what she needed. Arms wrapped around him, she held on as her body rolled to ease him in and out of her, the friction building. He added another finger, and she moaned.

“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come for me.”

She was close. Her body undulated against him, on the verge of euphoria. Her brain tapped out as her hips worked feverously, seeking more friction. “Cortez, I...oh, God, so good.”

Sparks dotted her vision as she came. Delirious and panting, she slumped over him.

The sound of a zipper had her coming back into her body, desperate for more. Widening her legs, she eased down on his engorged cock. He pumped his hips, making her moan. He gripped her hips, doing it again.

“Yes,” she cried. The pleasure was sharp, agonizing, addictive. As he fed his cock into her, she lowered herself, drawing him deeper. The pressure was exquisite. They settled on a slow, but delirious rhythm. She met his gaze as their bodies toiled.

With a hand at the back of her neck, he lowered her forehead to his, their breaths mingling as he drove into her. She felt him swell within her, and arched her back to ride him harder. Hands still on her hips, he helped guide her up and down, both of them groaning with each thrash of her hips.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I can’t hold out. Ugn!” As his seed spilled, she cried out to the sky, pure heaven ripping through her.

After a few more drinks, he declared he hadn’t had enough and took her with his mouth, driving her once more to orgasm. Then they stared at the stars in companionable silence before he led her to their stateroom and she returned the favor.

In her mind, this night was magical, a fantasy made real.

Then she woke up to a heartbreaking sight.