Page 4 of The Billionaire's Teacher

The client wanted the best.

Everyone knew Sunny was the best.

I grinned at my thoughts. Was it egotistical if it was true?

“Ahoy the NeverLand.”

I stepped out from the helm and crossed to the port side of the boat that ran along the dock. My eyebrows twitched and I forced them not to lift—but only with effort. The guy hailing me was younger than I’d expected. Maybe some kind of trust fund baby? I hoped not. But I also didn’t see how it could be anything else. This boat wasn’t cheap to charter. Especially not for a solo and including a captain.

“Ahoy the shore.” I smiled and tipped my sunglasses down. He was a good-looking kid. I’d give him that. “I’m not big on the nautical language, though. You Wesley Allen?”

“That’s me.” The man frowned slightly. “Is Sonny around? I could use a little help with my gear.”

This time I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from doing their thing. “Let me finish a few things so she doesn’t drift off without us and I’ll be happy to help.”

“Sure.” The confused look on his face was hard to read.

I gave a mental shrug and headed back to finish my checklist. The yacht club guys had tied everything off, so that was one less thing that I had to take care of. Nice to have the extra help—especially since the client was paying for it.

It didn’t take more than five minutes before I was stepping off the boat onto the dock. The man hadn’t moved. He had an impressive ability to be still.

“Ready when you are. Where’s your gear?” I started toward land.

It took a moment, but then he fell into step beside me. “I can get it, if Sonny’s not around yet. Will he still be ready to go this afternoon? I’m anxious to keep to our itinerary.”

I stopped and turned, then propped fisted hands on my hips. “I think we have a misunderstanding and we should go ahead and clear that up now. I’m Sunny—short for Sunshine—and I will be piloting your boat. I’m absolutely ready to sail as soon as we get your gear on board. So there shouldn’t be any issues with staying on the approved itinerary unless you have a problem.”

“I—” His mouth snapped shut and his cheeks blazed a hot, bright red. “Wow. Stuck my foot in that one. Sunny with a u. Not an o.”

I snickered, unable to stop myself. He looked so miserable. And adorable. Like a little lost puppy. “Not the first time there’s been a mix-up. We good, Wesley?”

“Wes.” His gaze darted to the boat then back to me. He swallowed before nodding slowly. “I guess we are.”

I lifted one eyebrow. It was a trick I’d perfected in my twenties after reading about a character who could do it. At the time, I’d considered it the epitome of suave. Now, it was more habit than anything. In this case, though, it served the purpose well enough, because Wes’s face reddened even more. “What’s up?”

“I just—” Wes broke off and cleared his throat. “You’re really okay with being alone on a boat with some random guy for three weeks?”

“Should I not be?”

“What? No. I’m not—you’re—” He blew out a breath. After a moment, he nodded. “Right. It’s fine. If you’re not worried about it, then I won’t be.”

I frowned, unable to keep the incredulity from my voice. “Are you worried about impropriety?”

“A little?” Wes hunched his shoulders.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He was adorable. I knew from the paperwork the agency had given me that he was in his early thirties. If he was worried about how it would look sailing with me? “I’m going to take that as a compliment. I’m too old for you. And I’m a consummate professional. There’s plenty of room on board, so we should be fine. Besides, we’ll be visiting new islands constantly. Once we dock, we’ll be schmoozing with dive shops and heading underwater. I think your virtue is safe.”

“Okay.” Wes’s face blazed a fiery red. “You’re right. I can get my gear.”

I shook my head and started back toward shore. “I can help. I’m stronger than I look.”

Wes didn’t comment.

I was okay with that. It wasn’t that I looked particularly weak. I just got the vibe that Wes had the idea that women should be doing things that were more demure and unassuming than hauling luggage and driving boats. Which, hey, if that was how he wanted to live his life, so be it. It was no skin off my nose. Except, of course, now that he was on my boat he’d have to get over it for the next three weeks.

Hopefully, he’d be able to manage that.

I paused and glanced around the parking lot. There was a small pile of suitcases and diving gear bags being watched over by a man I recognized.

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