“About fifty yards to your left is a sand bar that’s a hot spot for stingrays,” I start explaining to her back as she keeps walking, and I quickly move to catch up to her. “A few of the local island resorts have charters that will bring people out to this reef so they can get in the water with them, feed them, and touch them. The stingrays are actually trained now to show up when a tour boat comes in. They know they’ll get food, and they act more like happy little puppies than a scary, deadly animal. They’ll rub up against your leg, follow you around, and take fish right out of your hand. They continue reproducing right in this spot, year after year and the tourists love it.”

I’m rambling about fucking stingrays, but I can’t help it. I need to do something to fill the uncomfortable silence so she’ll actually look at me and I won’t have to apologize to her back. Even though the view from behind her is quite a sight to behold as I watch her bend over to get a closer look at a school of bright red fish that swim around her thighs.

“Did you really bring me out here to discuss the mating patterns of stingrays?” Mackenzie speaks, finally turning around to face me and crossing her arms in front of her.

I ignore the way the motion pushes her tits together and up in her bikini top and keep my eyes on hers instead of trailing down so I don’t piss her off more than she already is.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

I decide starting with the words Brooke told me to use is the safest bet, slowly moving through the water and closing the distance between us until we’re standing a foot apart.

She doesn’t make things easy on me, keeping her arms crossed and a blank expression on her face, as she squints from the bright sun shining down above us and looks up at me.

Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I take a deep breath and rip the Band-Aid off, looking down at my feet through the water instead of at her face.

“The other night on the balcony, I decided to ignore all the reasons I shouldn’t cross the line with you and give in. The whole time, regardless of how fucking amazing it was, I told myself that would be it. Just that one taste would get you out of my damn system and then I’d be able to go back to work and get my head on straight,” I begin, running one hand through my hair nervously, hoping she doesn’t try to kick me in the balls. “I should have been open and up front about it with you, and I’m an asshole for not saying anything. When I woke up the next morning and couldn’t get you out of my head, knowing there was no way I’d be able to stick to my guns about that being a one-time thing, I started fucking things up with work and it pissed me off. It made me angry and I took that anger out on you in the worst way possible. Pissing you off and pushing you away was easier than admitting the truth.”

Taking a breath, I finally look up from my feet and into her eyes. She stares at me quietly for a few minutes before she breaks the silence.

“And what truth was that?” she asks softly.

“That for the first time since I started working on a yacht, I let something distract me from my job. Made me not care if I threw it all away, made me forget about my responsibilities and, as stupid as this sounds, my dreams.”

I wait for her to throw her head back and laugh at what a pussy I sound like, but it never happens. She sighs loudly, unfolds her arms in front of her and throws them up in the air in irritation.

“First you insult me by thinking I’m a rich, spoiled princess, and now you do it again by assuming I’m such a horrible person that I’d let you lose your job or throw away whatever dreams you have,” she replies, shaking her head at me. “I’m not asking you to marry me and run off into the sunset after a couple of kisses and one orgasm, so turn that inflated ego down a notch.”

I can’t help but smile at her attitude, wishing it wasn’t the cutest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

“For the record, I know you’re not a rich, spoiled princess. At least, I know that for a fact now, and I’m sorry for what I said to you.”

She curses under her breath and glares at me.

“Fucking Brooke. I knew she’d been up to something after that little smile and wink she gave you back on the boat. Whatever, at least it made you apologize and admit you were a giant asshole.”

I didn’t exactly admit that, but I’m not about to point it out now when she seems to be on her way to forgiving me, and I no longer worry for the safety of my balls.

“I get it, things happening between someone on the crew and a guest are frowned upon, you’re not much of a rule breaker and lost your shit when you broke a cardinal one. Well, for your information, I’ve never let anyone stick his hand down my pants after only two days of knowing him, so I guess we’re both clueless on how this is supposed to work,” she shrugs.

I let out another sigh of relief even though part of me wants to cheer in victory knowing I’m the only man she’s let do something like that to her after only a handful of days.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask.

“Hell if I know. Like I just said, I’ve never done something like this before. But just so we’re clear, regardless of what my former best friend may or may not have told you, I’m not going to tell you my whole life story or about my hopes and dreams, and I damn well don’t expect you to do it either.”

She takes a step closer to me until we’re only standing an inch apart and I can feel the heat from her sun-warmed skin right through my swim shirt.