Sinking onto a low, flat rock, I slip off my sandals and bang them together. Our Zodiac landing this morning on Floreana Island was a wet one, and damp olivine sand clings to my toes. I rub one foot on top of the other, knocking off as much sand as possible before pulling my shoes back on and tightening the waterproof straps. Farther down the shore, a handful of sea lions tumble and play in the surf. Walsh claps in delight as she watches them.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“Hell yes I am. I’m feeling better, it’s a beautiful day, and I’m on a cruise with my sister. Let’s have some fun!”

“I’ll be ready for fun after coffee and breakfast.” I yawn so wide my jaw pops. Waking up at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise better be worth it. “And since when are you a morning person?”

“Since I slept fourteen hours yesterday. Oh hey, look, there’s Mr. Sexy Voice. Graeme!” she calls, bounding toward him.

I frown. Graeme is helping Donna slosh from the Zodiac to the beach. Once she’s clear of the waves, she gives his cheek a genial pat. I groan. At least Donna is making her way toward a different group so she won’t be with us on this excursion. Less opportunity for Graeme to ingratiate himself.

When Walsh reaches him, he’s crouched next to his open pack, fastening his phone to his selfie stick. A massive Nikon camera hangs around his neck. He stands, hoisting his bag. Linking her arm through his, Walsh walks him over to where I’m sitting with my elbows resting on my knees.

So this is what Graeme looks like first thing in the morning—mussed, bleary-eyed, and still ridiculously gorgeous. His army-green shorts hang off narrow hips, and his black, long-sleeved hiking shirt hugs his biceps, hinting at the knot of muscle underneath. His hair is a mess. Deep brown waves stick every which way. I clench and unclench a fist on my thigh.

“Hey, stranger,” he says to me. His voice holds more gravel than usual.

“Hey.”

“Stranger?” repeats Walsh. “Didn’t you two go hiking yesterday? And snorkeling?”

“We did, but then Henley disappeared after dinner. You missed some A-plus entertainment in the lounge, by the way. Gustavo played the guitar and the cocktails were flowing.” A wry grin graces his mouth.

I stand. “I had to get some work done.” And avoid Graeme and any reminders that he and I are not operating on an even playing field.

“Wow, that’s a big camera,” says Walsh, fingering the DSLR around his neck. “Get any good shots yesterday?”

“Impossible not to. Not with all the Blue-footed boobies and marine iguanas everywhere.”

“Sounds incredible. I hated to miss it.” She pouts. “Maybe you could show me a few pics later?”