Maybe having one too many cocktails on the yacht hadn’t been my best idea, but thankfully, there was no better place to have a hangover. After I naturally awoke, Roman greeted me with a coffee and another croissant from the coffeeshop. I was so very grateful as he joined me for a breakfast in bed. We nibbled and sipped at our breakfast, appreciating the silence with the soothing sound of the gentle waves surrounding our bungalow. Every time I started to become even the slightest bit jaded by the vacation, I was once again reminded of the sheer paradise we were really in.

When the pastry was all gone, I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. When I cut the water on to the shower, the door to the bathroom opened and Roman slipped in to join me.

I couldn’t get the smile off of my face, even with the hangover still looming. My hope was that a shower would set me right. Stepping into the glass shower, I stood under the steaming water and let it fall over me.

After a few minutes, strong arms wrapped about my waist from behind. He leaned into me and I closed my eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in a whisper.

"Better than I did half an hour ago," I replied weakly. "I’m sure I’ll feel better in just a bit. Sorry."

"No need to be sorry," Roman assured me, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. As I stood there with my head hung in the water to ease the pain in my head, I felt a lathered pouf graze against my back.

What was to follow might have been one of the most intimate, non-sexual moments of our relationship. Roman bathed me, being gentle, thorough, and never at all sexual. It was an act of immense care, rather than attraction. He scrubbed my chest, arms, legs, and feet before he moved on to my hair. With gentle maneuvering so that my head was tilted back toward the water, Roman grabbed the shampoo and carefully massaged my scalp.

The scent of almond and cherry blossom filled my nostrils and I let out a deep sigh. The shower, along with the head massage, was really working a treat to help my hangover. By the time he moved on to work the conditioner into my hair, my headache was reduced to nothing more than a dull pain. Once I was completely washed, I turned around and hugged myself to him and rested my cheek on his chest. Roman held me there and carefully rubbed my shoulders and back.

I had known for a while that he loved me, but I had never felt his love quite like that. I had heard it and seen it before, but feeling it physically was another thing. Every stroke and rub had been for nothing of gain for him, but purely to comfort me and help me ease the pain. If I had tried to speak in that moment, I was fairly certain I ran a good chance of crying. I was touched on a deep and personal level that he cared for me in such a way.

I never thought something like that was in the cards for me. I thought guys like him were only in movies and in books. Things might not have been perfect between us always, but d*mnit, they were starting to feel like they were.

Eventually, I cut off the water and moved out of the shower. After wrapping myself in one of the towels, I turned to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you. I feel so much better," I said with a grin.

"Good enough to go do some things?" he asked, brushing a strand of my wet hair from my face.

I gave him a look with a grin. "What kind of things?"

He shrugged and winked at me. "It’s a surprise. They’re beach-related, but that’s all you’ll get out of me."

I smiled up at him and nodded. "I could definitely be up for that."

I hurried to dry my hair and tie it up before putting on one of my bikinis and a sarong as a cover. To complete the look, I slid on my sandals and grabbed my sunglasses with the darkest tint. While my head was feeling fine, I wasn’t going to risk it being reagitated by the brightness of the sun. If there was any minor setback of the Bahamas, it was the fact there were never any clouds. At least while we were there.

Roman emerged from the bathroom in a pair of board shorts and a short sleeve linen top which was unbuttoned enough to show off some of his defined chest and a gold necklace he was wearing. His hair was pushed back and his sunglasses already on. Damn, I thought to myself, how did I land someone so dreamy? How was it that a man as handsome and caring as Roman Thaddeus had been the one to save me, and not one of the crusty old-timers?

"You look like a cover of Men’s Vogue," I called to him, crossing my arms as I admired his look.

"Well, now you’re just flirting with me to be nice," he joked as he moved to me and tossed an arm over my shoulders.

"Flirting to be honest," I corrected.

With a quick kiss between us, we moved out of the bungalow and headed to the boardwalk. Roman led the way down the beach for a while. I occasionally stopped to collect some shells, tossing them into my purse. "What are you going to do with those?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I don’t know. But they’ll be little tokens for us to remember our time here."

"Wouldn’t a t-shirt or a snow globe serve the same purpose?" he asked in a teasing manner.

I elbowed him playfully and giggled a bit. "I don’t think I need a t-shirt. These can go in a bowl or jar or something, and every time we pass them, we will be reminded of our second honeymoon." As I said it aloud, I began feeling a little silly and maybe even a little childish. Was it weird for me to want to take shells back home? Was that something only little kids did?

He tugged me into his side and kissed my head. "I think that’s one of the sweetest ideas I’ve ever heard," he purred. "You could even make a container for them to go in, if you wanted."

I smiled wildly, not having thought of using them in my pottery. My mind immediately began reeling with ideas of how to use them. Maybe I could even incorporate them into the dish itself rather than just making one to hold them. I felt tingly from the excitement. It was so nice to have something to look forward to when we returned home. Before Roman made my craft room, I was sure that a trip like that would have left me depressed by the end of it, knowing I had nothing to go back to, but an empty mansion and days filled with nothing more than waiting on Roman to return home.

As we continued walking, I began growing curious as to what it was exactly that we were doing out that far. For a while, I thought that he had only wanted to go on a stroll down the beach. We had gone too far, though, and it was becoming obvious we were seeking a destination. It couldn’t have been a restaurant or anything like it; we just finished eating breakfast. What more could there be? Maybe another yacht ride? Parasailing? My mind reeled as we continued to walk.

Eventually, we came across a pier that Roman guided me down. There was a little boat at the end of it, and just by the size I could tell it wasn’t one meant for lounging or partying.

Was he taking me fishing? I eyed Roman. I wasn’t sure that even Roman himself would willingly go fishing. While we clearly enjoyed the outdoors, he just didn’t seem like the hunting or fishing type. What more could there be to do on a boat?

I kept analyzing the boat, hoping that there would be some other signal to help me guess what it was I was getting myself into. However, there was nothing to go off of. The small group of people on the boat that I saw were dressed in swimsuits and were chatting. They didn’t give away anything either.

As we stepped down onto the boat, a man in a wetsuit emerged and handed us each a duffle bag. "Good afternoon guys," the man greeted, his Caribbean accent thick and cheerful. "Are you ready for your lessons?"

I didn’t even bother to ask before I looked down into my duffle. Wet suit, flippers, goggles, an oxygen tank, and more. I peered up to Roman with nervous, but excited eyes. We were going to go scuba diving?!