I awoke early the next morning, begrudgingly realizing that I probably owed my mother an apology. While I felt justified in my position, and planned to hold my ground, I still felt bad for humiliating her in front of her employees. Granted, she had done a fair bit of humiliating herself, but I knew my mother wasn’t one for apologies. She was lucky that my time with Paul had put me in a generous mood, that’s for sure.

My heart gave a small pang at the thought of the man, and I cursed myself internally. I wasn’t the type to go falling for any guy I slept with, but there was something about Paul. A therapist would likely say that the handsome man represented something I wanted, but did not have: freedom. I couldn’t argue that thought, but damn, his body was enough to drive any sane woman wild. I liked to think of myself as a rational thinker, but every woman had her breaking point. Mine just happen to lie at the juncture of Paul’s thighs.

Forcing myself to shake off these thoughts, I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed for the day. In spite of my desire to lounge around in a T-shirt and sweats (wasn’t the point of a cruise to relax?), I knew my mother would have a fit if I wasn’t dressed to the nines. I could picture her unwelcome commentary already: ‘You must always dress to impress, Ella. What if you meet your future husband while you’re dressed like a vagrant?’

At the very least, I could admit that I wouldn’t want Paul to see me dressed like that, but considering we’d already bared ourselves to each other, was that really something to worry about? I could likely dress in a sack, and he wouldn’t care, as long as there was a chance of getting me out of it.

All the same, I had an apology to present, and it would do little good if I started off on the wrong foot with my mother. I dressed in a bright blue sundress, slipping on a pair of wedge heels, and tying my hair up in a loose ponytail to keep cool. I applied a dab of makeup, and while my mother was never a fan of the natural look, she would just have to compromise with me on that issue. If it seemed as if there were very few things that my mother and I agreed on, that’s because it was true.

Perhaps it was an overdue rebellious streak from following her direction my entire life, but I felt almost juvenile sometimes. My mother compared me to an angst-filled teenager, and I had a sinking feeling that Paul might, too. He had seemed sympathetic regarding how I felt, though, which was pretty much unheard of in the Beck household. I had to constantly remind myself that not everyone was as strict and demanding as my mother.

I would have obliged my mother’s makeup ideals, but I didn’t want to look like a clown for the circus act she’d hired for entertainment on board the ship. There was also a chance I’d see Paul again, and I’d rethought my position of letting myself go before we even went on a real date. My body may have been exquisite, but a man wanted a woman to look nice for him.

That much I knew to be universally true, even in the erotic…sorry, romantic novels I read.

I shook my head, considering my reflection in the mirror for a long moment. While I liked the face that stared back at me, I wasn’t entirely thrilled by the fact that I would have to force it into an insincere smile all morning.

I checked the clock, noting that breakfast would be over in half an hour. Knowing that my mother usually had her breakfast rather late, there was a chance I’d catch her in the dining area. All the better, a crowd of people to watch me sniveling. I rolled my eyes at my own negativity, yanking the door to my room open and stalking outside.

Taking a moment to calm my nerves, I turned my stalking into delicate, graceful steps in the direction of the dining area. My stomach was churning with anxiety, but I couldn’t have expected any less. It wasn’t one of those scenarios where one could simply get in and get out; if I met my mother for breakfast, she would expect me to join her for the morning. God only knew when she would willingly free me from her talons.

I was in the midst of deciding whether or not I would approach her later on instead when I stepped into the dining room and immediately laid eyes upon her.

Martha Beck was wearing her large, dark, hangover sunglasses, and I could only chuckle at the fact that even the low light of the dining area was likely sending shooting pains through her skull. I tried to swallow my mirth, attempting to be the picture of sympathy as I approached. She was pushing a pile of eggs around on her plate, making a vaguely disgusted face in spite of how appetizing all the food had been thus far. She didn’t look up as I approached, only tilting her head slightly as I sat down.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she mumbled.

I swallowed a sharp retort, smiling and reaching out to grab her hand. She looked taken aback, at least from what I could see of her face.

“Here to humiliate me even further? Honestly, Ella, you’d think I abuse you or some nonsense like that,” my mother continued, and I couldn’t help the slight roll of my eyes. She was always so dramatic, but…perhaps she had a point.

Maybe I was blowing all of this out of proportion. I could take comfort in the fact that my mother loved me, I was certain of that much. She had an odd way of showing it, but there were so many people who had parents a thousand times worse.

Squeezing her hand, I felt a small surge of affection. She just wanted a good life for me. I was being melodramatic. I couldn’t back down, however. No matter what she wanted for me, I wanted my freedom—the freedom to pursue my hopes and wildest dreams.

I knew it would be hard for her to understand, but perhaps if I buttered her up with a proper apology first, she would give me a break. Yeah, maybe in another lifetime.

I parted my lips to speak, but before I could get the words out, she lowered her sunglasses to look me in the eye. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and I could only wonder just how much more she’d had to drink after I left the party.

“I hope you’ve gotten those trivial thoughts out of your head,” she said bitterly, sliding her sunglasses back up and focusing on her food.

She took a bite of eggs, looking vaguely ill as she swallowed. I won’t lie and say I took no pleasure in her pain; I was furious at how cold and callous she was being. It was enough to make me second guess my apology, but I was in too deep to back out now.

“Well, Mom, I actually came down here to apologize. It was wrong of me to embarrass you in front of your employees like that, and…” I paused, my eyes widening as my fire-breathing Prince Charming stepped into the room.

His eyes fell on me immediately, and he quirked his lips in a wry smile. I tried to avert my eyes, feeling my cheeks alight in a blush, just as my mother looked in his direction, grumbling under her breath.

“I swear, they could have gotten decent and well-dressed gentlemen to perform. I expected refinement, not carnies,” she huffed.

Just as I was about to launch into an ill-advised tirade defending Paul’s honor, the man of my dreams approached the table. He held several dozen pamphlets in his hand, smiling charmingly at my mother and me. He placed one of the flyers on the table, and I noted it was an advertisement for the circus act he was scheduled to perform in.

“Hello, ladies. I hope you will be kind enough to join us for the performance this evening. It’s guaranteed to amaze and delight.” He paused, looking at me with a cheeky grin. “Miss Ella Beck, what a delight to see you again. I was hoping you might join me for the day, maybe help me work out some pre-performance jitters.”

My mother stiffened, looking ready to protest. I looked between the two, weighing my options. While the apology to my mother had gotten cut short, I couldn’t deny that I would much rather spend the day with the charming performer.

“Ella, I swear to God,” my mother muttered under her breath, and Paul looked at her with a warm smile.

“Oh, Martha, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll see that your little angel is well taken care of. What sort of man would I be if I did not?”

My mother looked like she was about to snap back a rude reply, but before she got the chance, I lurched to my feet and stepped towards Paul with a shy smile.

“I would love to join you, Mr. Drake. Mother, if you’ll excuse us,” I said calmly, reaching down to grip Paul’s hand in my own.

I swore I could see the smoke pluming from my mother’s ears, and I had to swallow a laugh as Paul led me away. He tossed the pile of pamphlets on an empty table, sweeping me into his arms as soon as we were out of my mother’s sight.

“She hates you already,” I whispered, cheeks hurting from how much I was smiling.

“And you love it,” Paul said decidedly, reaching down to pinch my behind.

I squealed, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Fortunately, we were alone in the hallway, and I had no need to resist my urge to kiss him firmly on the lips.

His lips parted immediately, his tongue darting out to meet my own. I moaned against his skin, the sensation sending a tingle between my thighs. He rested his hand on my ass, and it took all of my restraint not to reach between his thighs and grasp my ‘personal breaking point.’

He drew away, however, smiling cockily at me.

“Someone’s eager today. Did you miss me that much after our night together?” he teased.

My face reddened, and I tried to sputter out a dignified response. Of course, there was nothing dignified about being so immediately smitten with a man I’d met and slept with in the course of a single day. His smile warmed, however, and he linked our arms together, guiding me further away from the dining area.

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Sir Drake?” I said with a grin, and he eagerly matched my expression.

“Oh, you know. A bit of this, a bit of that. A little mischief making. Maybe a dip in the pool,” he hummed.

Warmth blossomed in my chest at the utter ease I felt in his presence, and I knew that I was falling for him, all too soon. Who could blame me, though? He was gorgeous, and he actually liked me. Moreover, I actually liked him. Not just for his body, but for his free spirit and willingness to show me things that were entirely new to me.

“Paul, you’re going to turn me into a regular naughty girl,” I scolded teasingly.

He smiled at me, leaning in to capture my lips in yet another kiss. This one was softer, sweeter, and he drew away after a long, lingering moment.

“Not that I’m looking to change you, little bird, but it doesn’t seem to be a far stretch at this rate. You were born to be wild.”

I didn’t have an argument for that.