“I teach my clients navigation and heavy-weather sailing. How to plan a passage. But mostly, we just sail. That’s how I learned best, not by listening to someone talk about technique, but by keeping the boat moving, one way or another. If the wind is from ahead, haul the sails in. If the wind is from the side or behind, let them out. It isn’t much harder than that.”

“You help make people’s dreams a reality,” she mused aloud. “That’s why you do it, isn’t it? Because you had that same dream once.”

“I still do. I’ve never lost my sense of awe at what the ocean is capable of, not even after hundreds of midnight watches. As far as I’m concerned, the magic of a night sea is one that can only be matched, and transcended, by one thing.” He paused and held her gaze for a long moment. “By love.”

When heat—and emotion—immediately kicked up between them, Grace did what she could to bank it for the time being and hold her focus on her interview. Later, she knew, they would shift from professional to personal. But for now, she needed to be no-bullshit, too.

“I’m assuming your students have all come back in one piece?”

“The ocean has a way of rising up to test your resolve right when you think you’ve got everything dialed in. But even though there’ve been a couple of close calls here and there, I’m proud to say that my crews have not only come back in one piece, but many of them have also gone on to do some pretty major cruises in their own sailboats for months at a time.”

“So then what do you teach them if not technique?”

“To stay flexible and to be willing to change tactics as conditions dictate, whether it’s challenging weather or equipment failure. A good sailor knows that if the action you’re taking isn’t working, you try something else. And, most important, to enjoy the hell out of what you’re doing, because every single moment is a gift.”

Grace had thought interviewing Dylan would be a job, nothing more. But again and again he touched her heart with something he said, something he did. “Staying flexible and enjoying every moment are good rules not just for sailing, but for life,” she agreed.

After all, wasn’t that exactly what she’d done when she’d learned she was pregnant and would be raising her son on her own? She’d changed tactics and then made sure to enjoy the gift of every moment with Mason.

“My family taught me those rules,” he told her.

“Out on a sailboat?”

He shook his head. “My father lost his job when I was pretty young. He was out of work for long enough that Ian ended up stepping up to keep things afloat. I was too young to be much help to anyone, but I watched. I learned. And I saw that the sacrifices everyone made for each other were more than worth it.”

“The boat you’re making for them is your way of saying thank you, isn’t it?” But even as she said it, she knew it was more than that. “And it’s also your way of sharing with them what has brought you endless joy.”

“Yes,” was his simple answer, one that made her heart feel even softer toward him—even more open with him. No other man had ever disarmed her so easily…or heated her up so quickly.

“Can you put it into words, that joy?”

“Everyone from Tennyson to Jacques Cousteau to Jimmy Buffett has said it already, better than I ever will.”

“I’d like to hear it in your words, Dylan.” Didn’t he realize what a poet he was when he spoke about the sea? About his family? “Please.”

He took her hands, stroked his fingers over them before he began to speak. “The sea is full of so much wonder and magic that I’ve never seen anyone leave one of my boats without falling under its spell. Even people who have been afraid before, or who are certain they will never find their sea legs. All I really want to do—all I really want to give to people—is that fearlessness, that respect, that love that I’ve always felt.” He lifted her hands to his chest so that she could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. “Right here.”

The phone rang, jolting her out of the spell his words were weaving around her. But he made absolutely no move to answer it, didn’t even seem to notice it.

“You’re going to ignore that, aren’t you? Doesn’t it ever bother you, wondering who it is?”

“I’ve always found that the people I want to hear from know where to look for me. Just like you did.”

The phone stopped ringing for a few seconds, then immediately started again. “You’re not even going to check the caller ID?”

“What’s caller ID?”

She knew he was kidding—he must be kidding, right? Fortunately, when the phone started ringing a third time, he said, “If you want to answer it, be my guest.”

Of course she did, so she picked up the handset on the old phone, complete with spiral cord, that hung from the wall by the desk. “Hello.”

“Hello, it’s Shawna.” The woman on the other end of the line managed to infuse a ridiculous amount of sexiness into the three words. “It would be so nice if you could let Dylan know I want to talk to him.”

Grace figured out from less than a dozen words that this woman had been in Dylan’s bed. And that knowledge made her feel so jealous and irritated that despite knowing Dylan hated speaking on the phone unless he absolutely had to, she said, “No problem, Shawna. Hold on and I’ll pass him the phone.”

She held out the receiver to him, trying to read whether or not he was pleased by the obvious booty call, but he had his poker face on. And it was a damned good one, too.

“Hi, Shawna.” He listened to what she had to say before replying, “That’s nice of you to think of me for the game tonight.” Dylan paused and looked straight at Grace, his expression shifting from easy to intense in the blink of an eye. “But I’m seeing someone. Someone important. So I’m going to have to pass. Have fun at the game.”

I’m seeing someone? she thought as he put down the phone. “You didn’t have to turn down the tickets.” Someone important? “You could have gone with her.”

“Didn’t you just hear me say that I’m taken?”

For all the warnings she’d given herself about taking things too seriously with Dylan, she couldn’t stop a warm glow from washing over her. “I thought we agreed to take things slow.”

“We are.” He reached for her, drew her against him the way she’d been secretly longing for throughout their interview. “Slow and exclusive.”