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“I’ll manage,” I muttered. He didn’t know I was once kidnapped from my sleep and left on a raft in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, with only a can of sardines and a bottle of water as part of my Valerian training. But still, I kept him company by sipping black coffee and nibbling on a flaky scone drenched in clotted cream and the sweetest raspberry sauce.

“I wonder why we didn’t take one of your jets?” I asked.

“Like I said, this is safer.”

I leaned forward, tilting my chin. “I’m sure you can arrange a flight safer than the president, and it would’ve taken only a couple of hours. Instead, here we are wasting hours.”

“Enjoy the sea, Ms. Esteal,” Arkane said with a pointed look. “It’s not every day you get to be on a yacht.”

I paused, leaning back. “That is true,” I mumbled. “It’s quite beautiful.”

“Really?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. “From the look on your face, I wouldn’t say you are that impressed.”

I shrugged. “There’s not a lot that impresses me.”

“I think I got that,” he replied dryly.

“So what should I expect tonight?” I asked.

“Let’s worry about that later. We still have plenty of time.”

I nodded, and we sat in comfortable silence for the next ten minutes.

“I have work to get to.” He stood when he finished his breakfast and gathered his coat. “I could show you to your room if you’d like?”

“I’d like to stay here if that’s okay.”

He nodded. “Of course. You have the space, and no one will disturb you. If you need anything, help yourself or call out to a crew member. I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.” And with that, he left.

I grabbed my bag and settled myself into one of the soft lounge couches facing the ocean, and sinking into it felt more like a cloud embracing me. Hmm, maybe I should enjoy this. I’ve never taken a vacation before, but the next couple of hours might as well be one.

I curled up with a copy of Jane Eyre as rain began to pelt from the dark clouds, and the boat rocked with the rising waves. Soon, it lulled my heavy lids into deep sleep.

My eyes blinked open to a pair of soft gray eyes watching me intently.

“Arkane,” I said, my voice thick with sleep as I stretched my feet. My body felt so relaxed from the sleep that I almost didn’t want to move an inch.

“I could’ve killed you in your sleep.” The gentleness in his tone almost masked the callousness of his statement. He sat on the coffee table in front of me, his elbow on his knee as he held a fist to his mouth with a blank look on his face.

“And?” I lifted a shoulder. “I wouldn’t be here if I were scared of death, Arkane.”

“Everybody is scared of death.”

“I’m not.”

For the next couple of seconds, he didn’t say a word, and I didn’t dare lose his gaze. His intensity didn’t scare me. It only pulled me in like a magnet.

“Good for you,” he said eventually as he got to his feet, towering over me in his tall frame. “It’s time to get ready.”

Thirty minutes later, I was in a cabin in the lower deck, my fingers gliding over the smooth fabric of the full-length black vintage Dior dress that Arkane insisted I wear to fit the part. It was a lovely dress, modest and elegant. Exactly how I like it.

It draped on me like a custom piece, the thin straps hugging my shoulders as the dress curved snug over my waist before cascading straight down to my feet with a tiny slit on the left. It would do for mobility.

My black hair was shiny and straight, my brows thick, and my lips painted in a dark blue-toned red that brought out the pinks in my cheeks and the glow in my skin. I guessed I looked the part for a high-class auction.

A soft knock echoed through the room. “Bella, are you ready?”

I touched up my lipstick one last time before I slipped it into my clutch, among the other items I needed tonight, and walked to the door.