“I thought that the first time I saw you,” I said.
“Oh, when you took a picture of me before even introducing yourself?”
I flushed. “I couldn’t help it, okay?” I gestured to him, waving my hand up toward his hair and then down to his Italian leather dress shoes. “I mean, look at you.”
“I can’t,” Theo said, his eyes glimmering. “I’m too busy looking at you.”
My cheeks burned even more, and I looked down at my finger tracing the rim of my water glass, speechless.
“Come,” Theo said, standing and folding his napkin in half before he abandoned it on the table. “I wanted to wait until after dessert, but patience has never been a virtue of mine, and I’d like to show you something.”
“Should we clean up first?” I asked, gesturing to the table.
“Wayland will handle it.”
I frowned at the mess we left behind, mostly because I didn’t realize we weren’t alone. It made sense, of course. I imagined Captain Chuck was onboard, too. You couldn’t just leave a giant mega yacht unmanned.
Still, I wondered what the captain and first mate thought of me staying behind and having dinner with the owner instead of going to shore with my boyfriend…
The thought slipped away as Theo took my hand, though, and I followed him through the cool night air up the stairs. I waited for him to take me to the next set of stairs that would lead to the sun deck, but instead, he steered me around the corner.
Toward the owner’s suite.
Theo smirked at me over his shoulder. “Thought you might like to see where the king rests his head at night.”
He opened the door, and when we stepped inside, I lost my breath.
The owner’s suite was four times the size of the room I shared with Joel, and it was grand opulence embodied. Soft, warm light outlined the edges of the ceiling and the baseboards, playing with the different shades of wood and marble that danced in tandem throughout the room. Luxurious gold and navy curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked out over the glittering shoreline and dark water. Cream push-pin couches trimmed with gold made up a sitting area in the center of the room, along with a stocked bar and record player, all underlined by a lush navy, cream, and gold Persian rug.
Theo walked over to select a record from the metallic, geometric bookshelf while I continued taking in the room. Its art deco style surprised me because it was so different from the rest of the boat and yet it fit so perfectly.
And it suited him.
I didn’t know what I imagined his room would look like — perhaps because I assumed it would be a mixture of the elements that dusted the rest of the yacht. I expected the teak, and the warm wood, and the low light and grandeur. But I hadn’t expected to find the pops of color, the mixed metals, the old Hollywood movie posters that hung in gold frames on the far wall.
And directly across from the windows was the king’s bed.
I swallowed, walking over to touch the soft, velvet-like fabric of the comforter as Duke Ellington began to play. The comforter was a deep sea green, the bed so massive I was sure Theo could roll over six times and still not hit the edge of it. It was piled high with pillows, the four posts draped with floor-length, steel gray curtains that matched the color of Theo’s eyes.
“I must admit, I’m a bit surprised,” I said, still marveling at how soft the comforter was under my fingers.
“Didn’t expect me to have a four-post bed?”
I chuckled, turning to find him by the record player with his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t expect you to be such a fan of the 20s.”
“Ah,” he said, leaning forward on his toes as he looked around the room with me. The upbeat jazz coming from the record player made me feel even more like I was in a dream or a movie, far removed from reality. “Well, you’ll be even more surprised when you see my penthouse in New York, then. It’s like traveling back in time — well, other than the state-of-the-art appliances, of course.”
I smiled, letting my eyes sweep the room until I found three framed photographs on the bookshelf. I walked directly to them, picking up the first as my grin grew wider. “Are these your parents?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Whitman in the flesh,” Theo said, sidling up to my left. He pointed at the man first, an older gentleman with a full head of dark blond hair and a mischievous smirk much like Theo’s. He wore a black suit and thin black tie, the edges of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “That’s Dad. He’s wearing that proud grin because this was taken on the day Envizion was named number one on Fortune’s list of Most Admired Companies.”
“Makes sense why he’s got the proud father hand on your shoulder,” I remarked, tapping the middle of the picture where a slightly younger Theo stood. “Nice suit, by the way. Is that burgundy velvet?”
“You bet your ass it is. I was going for jazz meets royalty. What do you think?”
“I think you already know what I think.”
Theo smirked. “I still like hearing it.”
I rolled my eyes, nudging him before I pointed at his mother in favor of stroking his ego. “And this is Mum?”
Theo chuckled. “Yes, that angel of a human next to me is my mother.”
She was quite a bit shorter than Theo and his father, with light brown hair styled in a wavy swoop that made her look like she was still in her twenties. She wore a floor-length, cream gown with elaborate gold beading and a halter neckline, and even though the photo was just a five by seven, I could see the ginormous diamond on her ring finger.
“She always made it seem effortless,
