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respecting her schedule and never inconveniencing himself. He had cleared his for her, and her love for him exploded to new levels.
    When Santi drew up to the marina and helped her out of the car, she was glad to see that the rental agency had a man there waiting to take the vehicle. Santi led her down toward the pier, and the sound of sails clinking against metal poles met her ears, along with the gentle lap of the water. Della paid none of it any mind because Santi led her past all the nice but smaller sailboats and farther down a ridiculously long part of the pier. Della’s mouth fell open at the massive yacht. Santi had said it was over one hundred feet long. She didn’t remember the exact number, but the thing looked like it was three stories, not including the top. She blinked at it and almost missed the captain standing just ahead of them on the gangplank.
    Santi extended his hand to the salt and pepper-haired man, and the two spoke in rapid Spanish to each other. Her lover turned to her and rested a hand at her lower back. “ Capitán Del Rosario, este es Della Hayes. Della, Captain Del Rosario will take care of us while we are on the water. Please, do not hesitate to ask him anything.”
    Della shook the captain’s hand, and he said something to her in heavily accented English she didn’t catch. Assuming it was welcome or whatever, she nodded and offered her thanks and walked ahead of Santi onto the boat. As Santi showed her about the luxurious vessel, they stopped in the grand room with a large table and chairs all around it. Deep, rich brown wood that shone as if just waxed, pristine white tablecloths with nary a wrinkle, and off to the side, a serving area, china and crystal waiting for them took Della’s breath away. A young Spanish woman appeared from around a corner, dressed in a simple uniform of white blouse and plain skirt. She greeted Santi first and then smiled at Della.
    “Della, this is our solo stew,” he said. “She assists the chef and with anything you need. However, her English is very limited. I have tried to think of everything, but if there is anything, Maria will be able to help.”
    Della didn’t know how Maria could possibly help if Della had to resort to hand signals to make herself understood, but she figured there couldn’t be anything she would require. As long as Santi fed her, she was good.
    A buzzing in her purse caught her attention, and she dug into it to draw out her phone. Brent had sent a text asking about spending the day together tomorrow. Della bit her lip and replied. The excitement hadn’t calmed just yet. She had scarcely said good-bye to Uncle Leonard and told him she would be gone for four days. Poor Brent hadn’t entered her mind. She wrote now about where she was and received silence as a reply. Resolute, she put her phone away and returned her attention to Santi. Brent would never understand or feel good about Santi because of his feelings. She would always respect him but not give in. This was her choice, and Santi was what she wanted.
    Della locked onto Santi’s arm and moved in close to him right in front of the steward. The woman didn’t appear shocked, but Della imagined she had seen her lips tighten. Whatever. Della tilted her head and looked into Santi’s face. His hands came up to her waist, and she felt a distinct rise in his crotch.
    “You said something about bedrooms?” she whispered.
    Santi’s eyes flashed. “Mm, right this way.”

Chapter Seven
     
    “Come to me, cariño. ” Santi held out his arms as he nestled in the hot tub on the upper deck of the yacht. With a couple crewman standing around—even if they were women—Della felt exposed. She twitched at her cover-up and debated taking it off with just a bikini beneath. Damn it, why did she have to get this bold? Sure, she loved having Santi stare at her naked body, but that didn’t mean it needed to be on display for everyone else. He acted like this was nothing special with his