No makeup.
No jewelry except a simple silver compass hanging around her neck.
She looked...
Real.
Comfortable.
Like she'd been born on the ocean.
She climbed the stairs with the easy confidence of someone who'd done it ten thousand times before.
When she reached the dock, she offered her hand.
"I'm Storm Sinclair."
Her handshake was firm.
Confident.
Not the least bit hesitant.
"Ward Allen."
A tiny smile touched her lips.
"The groom."
News traveled fast.
"I'm afraid so."
One eyebrow lifted.
"That doesn't sound very convincing."
Before I could answer, another voice floated across the dock.
"Storm!"
A woman with dark auburn hair leaned out of one of the yacht's windows.
"Do we know if anyone has food allergies?"
Storm didn't even turn around.
"No shellfish allergy."
"No gluten."
"No dairy."
"No pineapple."
"No mushrooms."
"No cilantro."
