Page 22 of Ship Happens

“I said your adaptability.”

“That’s a professional assessment. You’re not HR, I’m curious what you really think.”

I consider ignoring the question, but something about the night, the champagne, and our unexpectedly honest conversation makes me answer truthfully.

“Your confidence,” I say finally. “Not the arrogance—though there’s plenty of that—but the genuine self-assurance. You know who you are, and you don’t apologize for it.” I take another sip of champagne. “It’s irritating, but impressive.”

He looks surprised, then pleased by my answer. “Thank you. That’s... not what I expected you to say.”

“What did you expect?”

“Something about my devastating good looks or charm.”

I snort. “Your ego doesn’t need to be fed, it needs a diet.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough.”

Our eyes meet, and for a moment—the antagonism giving way to something less hostile but more dangerous. His gaze drops briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.

I should step back, and make an excuse to leave. Instead, I find myself frozen in place as Ethan moves closer.

“Harper,” he says softly, “about tomorrow’s dinner?—”

“Mr. Cole!” A crew member approaches, breaking the moment. “Sorry to interrupt, but your uncle is on the phone in the executive office. He says it’s urgent.”

Ethan steps back, the intimate mood evaporating. “Thank you. Tell him I’ll be right there.” He turns to me with a look of regret. “Family business. I should take this.”

“Of course.” I’m grateful for the interruption, but still unsettled by whatever was happening between us. “It’s late, anyway. I should get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“I’ll have someone escort you to your cabin.”

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my cabin. I have a PhD.”

“I know you are. But humor me.”

He signals to a crew member, then turns back to me. “I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow for the island. Wear something you can hike in—the turtle nesting site is a half-mile walk from the dining location.”

“So, it really will be dinner and research?”

“I promised you, didn’t I?” His expression turns serious again. “I keep my promises, Harper.”

Before I can respond, he leans in and brushes his lips against my cheek, so lightly I might have imagined it. “Goodnight, Dr. Bennett.”

Then he’s gone, leaving me standing in the moonlight, my skin tingling where his lips touched it, thoroughly confused about what just happened. And even more confused about why I’m disappointed the crew member interrupted us when he did.

Chapter Six

ETHAN

ISLAND HEAT

The private island comes into view as our speedboat cuts through azure waters. Grand Peak Island—named for the small mountain at its center—is the crown jewel of The Rendezvous’ offerings. Most passengers visit for the pristine beaches and luxury amenities, unaware of the ecological research happening on the island’s protected eastern shore.

“We’re approaching, sir,” the captain calls over the engine’s purr.

Next to me, Harper leans forward, her attention fixed on the lush coastline. She’s dressed practically today—khaki shorts, a light blue button-down tied at the waist, sturdy hiking boots. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and her face is free of the heavy makeup from last night’s interview. She looks more like herself, and I prefer her this way.

“How much of the island is developed?” she asks, still scanning the shoreline.

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