The sunlight on the sea was very bright, a washed-out white, enveloping the body with warmth like a sudden gust of wind in an endless drought.
Ethan Laurent was still on the yacht. When Summer Ford stepped onto the deck, he was sitting at the table where they had dined the night before, surrounded by several servants attending to him.
As she approached, the servants who had been standing by his side quietly withdrew.
Summer sat down opposite him and abruptly asked, "Are we staying here again today?"
"Why? Don't you like it?" Ethan continued his meal with graceful movements, speaking with a nonchalant tone.
Summer didn't actually dislike it; on the contrary, she even found the seascape from the yacht particularly appealing.
However, she couldn't tell Ethan that.
If she did, they might end up staying on the yacht for days without ever leaving.
"It's okay." Mimicking his habitual tone, she gave him an ambiguous answer, then walked a few steps over to sit opposite him.
