Page 155 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Ms. Hayes, I'd be happy to give you a tour of the yacht if you'd like."

Winter glances at me and I nod.

"Go ahead. I'll be here."

She follows the crew member toward the interior and I watch them disappear through the glass doors. I turn to the head steward, an older man named Victor who's been coordinating the evening's arrangements.

"Keep her smiling," I say quietly.

Victor nods. "Of course, Mr. Sterling."

I stand on the main deck, champagne in hand, watching through the windows as Winter is shown around the yacht. I can see her expression from here—eyes wide, taking everything in. The luxury salon with its plush seating and polished wood. The formal dining area that we won't be using tonight. The open-air lounge on the upper deck.

She says something to the crew member and laughs. The sound doesn't reach me through the glass, but I can see it in the way her shoulders move, the way her head tilts back slightly.

It makes me happy. Seeing her smile like that. Genuinely happy, not the polite smile she uses in professional settings or the guarded one she's been wearing since Naples started.

Just... happy. The engines rumble to life beneath my feet and I feel the yacht begin to pull away from the dock. A few minutes later, Winter emerges back onto the main deck. The crew member who gave her the tour says something, gestures toward the upper level, and then leaves us alone.

Winter walks over to where I'm standing near the railing.

"This is incredible," she says, looking out at the water as we glide away from the marina.

"I'm glad you approve."

She turns to face me. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I know."

"Then why did you?"

I look at her standing there with the wind catching her hair, the champagne glass in her hand, the coastline stretching out behind her.

"Because I wanted to," I say simply.

Winter holds my gaze for a moment, and I can see her trying to decide whether to push the question further. She doesn't. Instead, she turns back to the view and takes a sip of champagne.

The yacht moves steadily through the water, leaving the marina behind and heading toward open sea. I find the head steward and confirm that dinner should be served at 7 PM.

He nods. "Of course, Mr. Sterling. I'll let the chef know to have everything prepared."

"Thank you."

I take another glass of champagne from a passing crew member and walk toward the railing. About forty-five minutes have passed since we boarded. The waters are calm, barely any waves, just the gentle rocking motion of the yacht cutting through the sea.

I glance toward the salon and see Winter at the small bar inside, talking to one of the female crew members. She's smiling, relaxed in a way I haven't seen her be around other people. Light music is playing throughout the boat—something smooth, Sade maybe, or something similar that fits the mood.

I pull out my phone and switch it to silent. Then I reconsider and turn it off completely. I want to be present in this moment. No distractions. No business calls. No emails that can't wait until tomorrow. Just this. Just her.

Winter's eyes catch mine through the open door of the salon. She says something to the crew member and then makes her way out onto the deck toward me. The golden rays of the setting sun hit her hair and reflect off her eyes. She looks almost ethereal walking toward me like this, backlit by the warm light.

I walk over to meet her halfway. When I reach her, I hold out my hand. She places hers in mine and I lift the back of her hand to my lips, kissing it gently.

"Took a gamble that you wouldn't get seasick," I say, winking at her.

Winter smiles. "No, not at all. I love the water."

I take a mental note of that.