Page 66 of How to Train Your Billionaire

“I’ve been doing some research. There’s a hospital with a well-renowned cardiac unit where you could get that testing done. We’d have to circle back to Nice, but ...”

He waves me off. “I’m not bothering with all that here. I’ll make an appointment when we get back to the States.”

I figured it’s what he’d say, but I’m no less annoyed by it.

“Charles,” I say firmly, turning to face him, “if it wasmyheart that needed looking at, you’d turn this boat around immediately.”

He takes a sip of his drink. “Doctors get paid to worry. It keeps them employed.”

“And what if this isn’t just worrying?” My voice is sharper than I intend, but I can’t help it. “What if it’s real? What if one of these days, you don’t just bounce back?”

“I’ve been alive longer than you’ve been a thought in this world. I know my body. It’s not as quick as it used to be, but it’s mine. And I’ll decide how I go out, not some doctor with a clipboard.”

Something tight coils in my chest. “Do you even hear yourself? You talk like it’s inevitable. Like you’re just waiting for it to happen.”

His gaze softens—just barely—but it’s enough to make my throat burn. “We all go sometime, kid. That’s just life.”

I press my fingers against my forehead, trying to keep my frustration in check. “Fine,” I say, forcing the word out. “But if you won’t take care of yourself for your own sake, maybe do it for the people who actually give a damn about you. Frankie’s worried.”

His expression flickers, a split-second crack in his armor. “Yeah, well, maybe she worries too much.”

“She cares,” I snap. “All she does is try to make everything perfect for you. We both know that she’s been great for you. Which is why I need to ask you something.”

Charles turns his head, giving me a knowing look. “Let me guess. You want to steal her away for the day.”

I nod, swallowing against the knot in my throat. “Just a few hours. I want to take her off the yacht for a while. Give her a break.”

He exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “She’d never ask for time off herself, you know.”

“I know,” I say. “That’s why I’m asking for her.”

The silence between us is heavy. The waves lap gently against the hull, the hum of the ship a low, steady vibration beneath us. Finally, he picks up his drink, tilting it slightly in my direction.

“You have her back before dinner,” he says gruffly. “And make it worth her while.”

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding shudders out of me. “Yes, sir.”

Charles shakes his head. “God help me.” But his voice is quieter now. Maybe even a little fond.

And for now, that’s enough.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Best Is Yet to Come

Frankie

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting on the floor, my back against the cool metal wall of the hallway near the engine room. It’s warm here, the hum of machinery vibrating through the floor beneath me. It offers a strange kind of comfort, steady and reliable.

I just need a minute to breathe.

I’m not expecting Hayes to show up.

He rounds the corner, his brows pulling together when he sees me. “What are you doing down here?”

I lift a shoulder. “Needed a break. You?”

He holds up a wrench like that answers everything. “Just checking something.” Then, instead of walking past me, he surprises me by lowering himself onto the floor across from me, stretching out his long legs.