Chapter 166
**Sara**
As I walked, the wooden planks creaked under my heels, lake water lapping gently beneath.
Various boats lined both sides - everything from simple rowboats to fancy speedboats. A sleek yacht bobbed at the far end, its pristine white hull gleaming in the afternoon sun.
"Wait here." Tom squeezed my hand before approaching the dock attendant, a weathered old man in a faded captain's hat.
I wandered the dock, trailing my fingers across the boats' smooth hulls. A family of ducks paddled past, the babies following their mother in a perfect line. The wind carried the scent of lake water and pine, ruffling my dress around my knees.
"This one's nice." I stopped beside a cherry-red speedboat, admiring its chrome trim.
"Having fun window shopping?" Tom's voice startled me.
I spun around, hand pressed to my chest. "Don't sneak up on me like that! And yes, these boats are gorgeous." I ran my fingers along the speedboat's glossy finish. "Did you manage to rent one?"
Tom's face fell. "Bad news. Everything's booked solid. Apparently, everyone had the same idea on this perfect afternoon."
"Even the little rowboats?" I pointed to a weathered wooden one that had definitely seen better days.
"Especially those. Some corporate team-building exercise." He rolled his eyes. "But come here. I want to show you something."
Tom took my hand, leading me toward the end of the dock. The wooden planks creaked under our feet as we approached the massive yacht I'd spotted earlier.
"Thought you might want a closer look." He gestured to the gleaming vessel. "She's quite something, isn't she?"
I admired the yacht's sleek lines and pristine white hull. Chrome railings caught the sunlight, almost blinding in their brightness. "Nice is an understatement."
"Want to go for a ride?"
"But you just said everything was booked." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless you're planning to steal it?"
"Not quite." He reached for my hand. "Come on."
"Tom..." I hesitated as he tugged me toward the gangplank. "We can't just-"
"Trust me." His fingers laced through mine. "I promise we won't end up in nautical prison."
"Is that even a thing?" I followed him onto the deck, my heels clicking against the polished wood. "And how are we not trespassing right now?"
Tom pulled a key fob from his pocket and pressed a button. A soft beep echoed from somewhere below deck, and a panel slid open to reveal a staircase.
"Because," he guided me toward the stairs, his hand warm on my lower back, "it's hard to trespass on your own property."
I froze mid-step. "Your what now?"
Tom's grin widened as he watched my jaw drop. "Welcome aboard the 'Black Pearl.' And before you ask - no relation to Pirates of the Caribbean. Pure coincidence."
"You..." I gripped the railing, staring at him. "This is yours?"
"One of my investments." He shrugged like owning a luxury yacht was as casual as having a Netflix subscription. "Want the tour?"
"Hold up." I pressed my palm to his chest. "You own a yacht. A whole-ass yacht."
Tom's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"No, I guess not. You did drop a grand on wine without blinking." I ran my fingers along the glossy railing. "But why is it here if you own it? Shouldn't it be... I don't know. Was it parked at your private island or something?"
"Parked?" He laughed, pulling me closer. "The technical term is 'moored.' And I let the resort charter it out."
"Of course you do." I shook my head, laughing. "Any other bombshells you want to drop?"
"Well..." Tom's hands slid to my waist. "I do own forty percent of this resort."
I pulled back to stare at him. "You what?"
"My friend Marcus owns the rest. The resort was his idea. I just provided some capital."
"Some capital?" I poked his chest. "Tom, this place is insane. The rooms alone must cost-"
He silenced me with a kiss that made my toes curl. "Less talking about money, more enjoying the view."
"Which view?" I ran my hands up his chest. "The lake or your forty percent stake in paradise?"
"The gorgeous woman in my arms who's trying hard to distract me from giving her a proper tour."
"Is it working?" I nipped his bottom lip.
His grip tightened on my waist. "Depends. Do you want to see the yacht, or should we skip straight to the master suite?"
I traced a finger down his chest. "Much as I'd love to skip straight to that master suite... I want to see this fancy boat of yours first."
"Yacht," he corrected with a playful squeeze of my hips.
"Boat, yacht, floating mansion - whatever you want to call it." I glanced around the deck. "But who's going to drive this thing? Unless you're hiding a captain's license along with your secret yacht ownership."
"The captain should be here any minute." Tom checked his watch. "I messaged him while sorting things at the dock."
"Of course, you have a captain on speed dial." I rolled my eyes. "Hey, wait a second..." I poked his chest. "If you own forty percent of this resort, why did you even pay for the suite? Or that ridiculous wine at lunch? Shouldn't you get a billionaire's discount or something?"
Tom's laugh echoed across the deck. "The staff doesn't know I'm a shareholder. Well, except the dock master - had to tell him about the yacht."
"But why pay full price when you own part of this place?"
"Because," he pulled me closer, "technically, I'm just another customer. Besides, whatever we spend here, forty percent comes back to me anyway."
"That's..." I scrunched my nose. "Actually, kind of brilliant. Sneaky, but brilliant."
"I prefer strategically discreet." His lips brushed my ear. "Plus, it's more fun this way. No special treatment, no staff hovering around..."
"Just pretending to be normal newlyweds?"
"Exactly. No one recognizes me here - I'm just another guest splurging on an expensive weekend with his..." His voice trailed off, eyes searching mine.
"Girlfriend? Mistress? Student with benefits?" I offered helpfully, trying not to laugh at his expression.
"How about just 'Sara'? And I wouldn't mind upgrading that first option."
My heart skipped at his words, but I kept my tone playful. "Upgrading, huh? Moving a little fast there, Professor."
"Says the woman who just called herself my girlfriend."
I felt my cheeks flush. "I was just listing options. You know, hypothetically speaking."
"Hypothetically?" His thumb traced circles on my hip. "Like how we're hypothetically sharing a suite? Or how I hypothetically can't keep my hands off you?"
"Tom..." I squirmed as his fingers dipped lower.
"Yes, Sara?" His lips brushed my neck. "Having trouble with hypotheticals?"
"I don't know what we are. This is... complicated."
"Is it?" His teeth grazed my pulse point. "Seems pretty simple to me. I want you. You want me."
"And the whole professor-student thing?"
"You'll complete your MBA in two months." His hand slid down to cup my ass. "Unless you're planning to fail my class on purpose?"
I laughed, the sound turning into a gasp as he squeezed. "Maybe. Your detention sessions are pretty memorable."
"Minx." He spun me around, pressing me against the yacht's railing. "I haven't given you detention yet."
"Then maybe I should misbehave more." I pushed against his chest, creating space between us. "But first, you promised me a tour of your floating palace."
"Trying to distract me from your plans of academic delinquency?" His hands stayed on my hips, thumbs drawing maddening circles.
"Maybe." I captured his wandering hands. "Tour first, detention later."
"Fine." He stole a quick kiss. "But don't think I'll forget your threats to fail my class."
"Threats?" I batted my eyelashes innocently. "I was just weighing my options."
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