Until I Wrote Him
Maps, screens, compasses, polished metal, the rich hum of the engine.
I blink.
A laugh almost escapes my lips at his little drama.
“This is it?” I ask, eyebrows raised. “This is why you flew me all the way out here? To show me how a yacht is controlled?”
Roman looks at me.
That silent look he’s mastered.
The one that says absolutely nothing yet somehow speaks volumes.
Then he turns to the Captain.
“Captain,” he says smoothly, “can you confirm the waters we are currently on?”
The Captain straightens.
“Yes, sir. We’re sailing through Bimini Bay Waters, internationally recognized for allowing legal marriage ceremonies at sea.”