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But that wasn’t me anymore. That was a younger man. I was experienced with my body and my mind, and I knew how to handle both.

And if I had my way, I’d be handling Jillian’s before the day was over.

After I was dressed and had put on a spray of Italian cologne, keeping up the theme, I headed to the dining room, where Miguel already had a mug of fine Jamaican coffee brewing for me. It was a brand I’d gotten a taste for during a two-week stay on the island a few years back, and starting each day with the smell of it still brought me back to that drop of paradise in the Caribbean. The mug Miguel had by the machine was handmade in the same place, too.

“Big day, Mr. Kincaid?” Miguel asked as he poured a mug for me, glancing at my outfit. He’d worked for me long enough that he could tell when I was out to have a good time.

“Something like that,” I answered. “But one way or another, we’re going along with the preparations I ordered last night. I assume everything is ready to go?”

“Just waiting on your orders, Mr. Kincaid,” Miguel said with a smile and a nod as he poured my coffee and set it on the rich wooden bar for me to take when I was ready. For anyone else, he’d offer a wide selection of creamers and such that I kept on hand for guests, but he knew I took my coffee black.

“Good,” I said. “And the arrangements for the course I charted?”

“All settled,” he replied with a broad smile. “There’s not a port in the Caribbean that doesn’t like seeing your name show up, Mr. Kincaid. And on a more personal note, I have to say, what you’ve got planned out is a cruise even I’d be jealous of, and I’ve been between the islands most of my life.”

“High praise,” I commented with a laugh, “I’ll make sure you have enough time to enjoy it, too. Expect me to be preoccupied most of the time.”

“I believe it, you’re in high demand,” he added as he poured himself a coffee after I gave him a nod to do so.

“By the way,” I explained. “Rhett’s staying at my place in Santa Barbara, since I’ll be gone longer than I expected. He’s doing me a solid by keeping an eye on everything, so if he calls and needs anything, it’s okay to patch him through to me.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for Mr. Anderson’s name,” Miguel said.

I knocked on the bar with my knuckles and gave him a nod. “Good man. Keep me posted and stay ready for my signal.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” Miguel answered, and I made my way out onto the deck.

Drinking in the humid air was almost as good as the steaming coffee in my cup. I strode across the vast deck of the ship and leaned against the railing, letting my eyes scan the marina. I checked my watch.

It was a few minutes to nine.

For the first time this morning, despite all my discipline, I felt my stomach turn. Ultimately, despite everything I’d gotten ready, it all hinged on whether or not Jillian was going to listen to her heart and do what we both knew we wanted.

I was going out on a limb, making all the last-minute preparations for that insane offer I made her last night. I said it like it was nothing, but I had to move around business meetings and burn a few clients.

Personally, I didn’t care, though. They were a drop in the bucket compared to what the payoff could be.

I glanced at my watch again and saw it hit the hour. I took a long drink of the nearly scalding coffee, and when I lowered the mug, I saw her.

My jaw nearly dropped.

If she showed up, I had been expecting her to be wearing something beachy, maybe even a wide-brimmed hat to hide herself as she came to see me. But no, Jillian was making her way down the marina in a black cocktail dress that exposed her shoulders and black pumps that gave her a stride that turned heads.

And if the sight of her wasn’t turning heads, the sound of her massive suitcase rolling along the wooden planks was.

A cocky smile emerged on her face, and I made sure those green eyes of hers got a look at it before I pulled out my radio.

“We’re about good to go. Pull anchor,” I ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the captain replied, and I finished off my coffee and made my way down to meet Jillian.

By the time she rolled her way up to the yacht, I was leaning over the side of it, smiling smugly over at her.

She stopped in her tracks and gave me a hard look that was full of so many feelings. Nothing but desire could have brought her here, but she looked up at me with defiance, anxiety, and so much more.

“Good morning, trouble,” I greeted her. “Got your things packed?”

“If I step on this boat,” she started. I could tell she had rehearsed this little speech all morning. “Then Bruin, we need to be really clear. You will sell this boat, and no matter what, Jeff can never find out we did this.”

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