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The sun beats down on us as the private yacht speeds across the crystal-clear waters.Eamon stands at the bow, the wind tousling his dark hair as he casts a sidelong glance at me, his lips curving into a maddening smile.

“I’m starting to think you’re showing off,” I tease, leaning back against the plush seating with a glass of champagne in hand.

He chuckles, the sound low and rich.“If I wanted to impress you, I’d be the one piloting.”

“Oh, please.Like you know how to drive this thing,” I say as I set my glass on the small table beside me.

“Do you want me to prove it?”he challenges, his eyes narrowing in mock offense.

Before I can fire back, the yacht slows, and the captain announces that we’ve arrived at the sandbar.I lean over the side to catch a better view.My breath catches at the sight before me—a stretch of pristine white sand rising out of the endless cyan water, like something out of a dream.

A cabana has been set up, complete with loungers, a small bar, and snorkeling gear.I’ve seen many places in my travels, but this is the most breathtaking yet.For a moment, I forget myself, captivated by the scene.

Eamon steps up beside me, his arm brushing against mine.“Speechless?”he murmurs.

I glance up at him, rolling my eyes even as I smile.“Don’t let it go to your head.”

We descend the steps and wade into the warm, shallow water, laughing as the gentle waves lap at our legs.The sun glints off the surface, casting dappled reflections onto our skin.

Eamon moves closer, his hands skimming my waist, the heat of his touch sending a pleasant shiver through me.His lips brush against my ear as he whispers, “This better than your usual solo travels?”

“Maybe,” I admit, trying to suppress a grin.“The company isn’t half bad.”

“Not half bad?”he repeats, as his hands tighten on my waist.Before I can react, he lifts me into the air, spinning us both as I shriek.

“Put me down,” I laugh, though my arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders.

“Only if you admit you’re having the time of your life,” he says, his voice low and teasing as he finally sets me down.

“Fine,” I reply, still catching my breath.“You’re tolerable.Happy?”

“Not even close,” he says, his fingers lingering on my bare skin.“I’ll be happy when you admit that no one else will ever touch you the way I do.When you realize you’re mine, whether you like it or not.”

I arch a brow, refusing to let him see how his words make my pulse race.“Yours?”I repeat, my voice laced with challenge.“That’s awfully confident for a man who hasn’t proven he’s worth keeping around.”

My words are sharp, calculated, and meant to throw him off balance.But the truth is, I’m trying to regain my footing.Every look, every touch, every word from him feels like a tether pulling me closer, wrapping me tighter, and I can’t afford to let that happen.Not when my world doesn’t allow for distractions like this.

His grip tightens just enough to send a shiver through me.His gaze deepens, dark and full of intent.“Oh, love,” he murmurs, leaning in until his lips are just a breath away from mine.“By the time I’m done with you, no one else will ever come close.”

The way he says it, low and rough, a promise and a threat all at once, makes my pulse race.My body betrays me, leaning into him before I can stop myself.I hate how easily he makes me want more.What he doesn’t realize is I won’t give in to his panty-melting smiles or smooth words.This is fun and nothing more.

The hours pass in a blur of sun-soaked moments that feel too easy, too perfect.We snorkel through coral reefs as vibrant fish dart between us.Eamon playfully nudges me, pointing out the most colorful ones.

Later, we lounge under the cabana with icy drinks in hand.Eamon leans back in his chair, shirtless and far too smug, as we tease each other about who swam better.

“You cheated,” I accuse, taking a long sip of my cocktail.

“Cheated?”he repeats, his brows lifting.“How does one cheat at snorkeling?”

“You splashed me on purpose,” I say, narrowing my eyes.“You threw me off my game.”

“Your game was questionable to begin with,” he counters, his grin wide and unapologetic.

I toss a grape at him, laughing as he easily catches it in his hand.The banter feels effortless and natural.At some point, I realize I’m not just having fun—I’m enjoyinghim.The thought unsettles me, twisting my chest in a way that feels both foreign and dangerous.

I push it aside, blaming the intoxicating beauty of the Maldives.

This is temporary.A fleeting escape.It has to be.