I FOLLOW HENRY WHILE HE BOASTSabout his boat. We pass a large outdoor swimming pool on deck three, then a smaller indoor one, and an array of Jacuzzis. There’s a spa, sauna, and a wine cellar that houses five thousand bottles. One lifetime wouldn’t be enough to drink that.
Unless you have Addie in your corner.
Deck two is what Henry calls a beach club, complete with water slides, a kiddies’ pool, water sports equipment, and a diving instructor.
“We’ll be diving in the Bahamas. I hope you’ll convince Addie to try. She always refuses, afraid she’ll drown.”Henry chuckles, a fond twinkle in his eyes. “She’s a girl of many fears.”
I make a mental note of that comment. Addie comes across as tough, composed, and self-sufficient, which isn’t my usual type.
I like feeling needed. I like girls whocanhold their own but would rather let their man take care of them. I think those years of looking after Mia at college did something to me.
But then Addie’s let me look out for her since the moment we met. The wine, buckling her up in the car, carrying the luggage... small things that mean a lot.
“What’s the itinerary for this trip?” I ask as we leave the aft, heading upstairs.
“Grand Cayman, Jamaica, Haiti, Bahamas, and back to Miami on Sunday,”he recites the exotic locations as though it’s a casual weekend getaway.
Instead of turning left at the top of the stairs toward the restaurant where we began, Henry guides me up another flight, then down a corridor, halting outside suite seventeen.
“I’ll leave you here but join us in the restaurant as soon as you’re ready.”
“We will,” I assure him, reaching for the door handle.
“No, no, no.” He laughs, shaking his head, and gestures toward a tablet on the wall. “You need the pin. Four digits. This one’s set to Addie’s birthday.”
A perfect ploy to blow our fake dating shit wide open, but, thankfully, Addie’s prepared me for this. I tap in zero nine one one and... nothing happens.
Shit, did I forget her birthday already?
No. No way. It’s November ninth, I’m sure it is.
Henry looks down his nose at me with that special kind of curious annoyance only rich British men can pull off.
British.
Fuck, of course.
“Forgot you guys get your dates all ass about face,” I say with a grin, hoping to get him onside with the old-school reference as I type in one one zero nine instead andthe lock disengages with a click.
“Good memory,” Henry praises. “I’ve been married twenty-five years but still get my wife’s birthday wrong.” He pats my shoulder, turns in place like a soldier, and strides down the corridor,his footfalls fading into the distance.
“Addie?” I call out, closing the door behind me.
The suite is larger than any hotel suite I’ve ever been to, and we stayed in the Caesars Palace villa for Cody’s bachelor party.The place screams luxury and elegance, from the plush furniture to the modern artwork adorning the walls.
To my left, there’s a huge living area with leather sofas and a state-of-the-art entertainment system. The bedroom section is on the right, separated by a room divider, the bed so big it looks like two kings squished together.
Soft, ambient lighting creates an intimate atmosphere, but it’s nothing compared to the real showstopper: a glass wall offering an unobstructed view of the open ocean.
TheSerenity’s on the move, cutting through the water. The sun dips toward the horizon, painting the soft waves in bright oranges and reds.
“Addie?” I call out again, stepping further in to discover a kitchenette with an Italian coffee maker, fridge, and gourmet snacks set out on a narrow island. There’s an open bottle of champagne there... one flute conspicuously missing.
“In here!” Addie’s voice calls from the right. “Come in!”
I cross the living room, entering the bedroom area where another door leads to the bathroom.
Thick steam fills the air, but Addie’s not naked, wet, and soapy; my horny imagination is disappointed. She’s perched on the edge of the claw tub, wearing a white, fluffy bathrobe, her damp, long hair draped over one shoulder.
