Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
But at least I’d have been alone.
It was already seven forty-five, so I dressed quickly, grabbing my camera and bringing my small backpack with extra memory cards and lenses just in case. I found Theo lounging in one of the chairs by the bar, his ankle crossed over knee, The Wall Street Journal newspaper spread out between his hands and a tall glass of orange juice on the bar in front of him.
“Ah, good morning, Miss Dawn,” he said when I approached, folding the paper and setting it aside. He looked different from the other night, though he wore a navy suit and expensive dress shoes and had his hair styled just the same. Somehow, in the morning light, he seemed a little less intense and a little more boyish.
He smiled easily, folding his hands together in his lap, like the last time I’d seen him he hadn’t been mauled by two wolves disguised as French women.
“Morning,” I managed with a flat smile of my own.
“Were you ill yesterday?”
I almost laughed at the question, but the fact that he’d noticed I wasn’t around cut the sound short. “No, Mr. Whitman… er, Theo,” I corrected. “I just…” I swallowed, looking down at my camera before my eyes met his again. “Just needed a day to myself.”
The corner of his mouth crept up a bit. “That’s understandable. Well, are you feeling better today?”
Everything inside of me wanted to say no, but I plastered on another smile and nodded.
“Good. I was thinking you could come ashore with me. I have some business to tend to, but you could take the day to explore. Nice is beautiful,” he added, sweeping his hand toward the open side of the deck. “Much to see.”
My heart skipped in my chest. “Really?”
Theo smiled wider. “I told you I’d get you off this boat.”
The flat smile I’d given him was replaced by a real one, relief and excitement flooding my chest in equal measure. I did something of a little dance that I didn’t mean to do, but it made Theo laugh, and then he hopped up from his chair and grabbed the briefcase next to it. “Grab whatever you’ll need. I realize I didn’t tell you to bring your passport when I wrote that note.”
“I’ll be right back!” I was already hurrying back down the stairs before the words had fully left my lips. I dashed into our room long enough to stuff my wallet in my backpack, along with a cardigan just in case.
I didn’t have time to find Joel and tell him I was getting off the boat, but I told Ace, and he assured me he’d relay the message. Then, once I was back up top, Theo and I made our way down the ramp that connected the main deck to the dock.
“I was thinking we could have breakfast together, before my meeting and before you wander off on your own,” Theo said when we stepped off the ramp. “I know a great little place just a few blocks from here.”
I chewed my lip. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose…”
“You wouldn’t. I’m inviting you, after all. Besides, I’d like to see some of the photos you took yesterday, and I have some tips for where you could go today. If you’d be interested.”
Once again, I found it impossible to say no when those eyes of his watched me like that. So I simply nodded, and he smiled, another battle won.
Theo Whitman surprised me. I didn’t really understand why, provided I didn’t know all that much about him. But watching him walk in the narrow streets of Nice, saying bonjour now and then as we passed locals and tourists alike, I wondered who he was. I wondered why he wasn’t as stuck up and mannerless as the guests he entertained onboard. I wondered why he was sometimes severe and cold when this warm and friendly version of him existed. Was it a front put on for clients? Was it a way to assert his power?
I wondered about his home life, about how he grew up, about whether he wanted to get married and settle down and have children of his own. And I hated that, if I were being honest with myself, the likelihood of me ever finding out the answers to those questions was slim to none. I’d be on his yacht for the next few months, and then I’d never see him again.
My chest pinched.
I was surprised yet again when we made it to the breakfast spot Theo had mentioned. I’d expected him to lead us to a grand restaurant, one where we’d be asked what kind of water we wanted, and each plate would cost at least a small fortune. Would you like Grey Poupon with your poached eggs, sir? But instead, he took us to a small bakery, its doors open to the street and two kind, older women working behind the counter. One whiff of the fresh bread and pastries and my mouth was watering too much to dissect the choice further.