After a long, hot shower that had the unfortunate side effect of ushering in weariness, I dried off and yawned my way out of the bathroom.

Cynwrig was sitting in one of the lounge chairs near the sliding glass doors that opened out onto a lovely balcony area, but rose when he saw me, his eyes skimming my nakedness and coming up heated.

He met me halfway and kissed me with all the heat and desire a woman could want, then pulled back just as it was getting interesting.

“I’ve booked a private room on the eight-fifteen ferry,” he said, voice delightfully husky. “It should only take us an hour and a half to get across to Holyhead from here, so we’ll leave at six.”

Which gave us close to four hours to fill. I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into another kiss. “I’m thinking that leaves plenty of time for both play and sleep. Shall I meet you in that boat you call a bed?”

The heat in his gaze just about set me alight. “Deal.”

But even heat couldn’t combat tiredness, and sleep found me before he did. I had a vague memory of him gathering me in his arms and tucking me close into his big warm body, and felt oddly cherished more than aroused.

The former was nothing more than a sleep-fueled illusion, of course, but it was still a lovely one.

The seas were as rough as fuck, and I quickly discovered it was a very different experience to sailing on calmer seas—all I’d done up to now. I didn’t puke, but I kept the sea sickness bags close and was utterly thankful for the private room. If I’d been in the general area amongst other seasick travelers, my stomach might well have unleashed.

The crossing seemed to take forever, but the captain did eventually announce our arrival into port before asking those of us who were driving to make our way down to our cars.

And finished it all by cheerily saying, “I hope you all had a lovely journey and please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Is he fucking serious?” I muttered. “How could anyone in their right mind enjoy a trip like that?”

“Many did. There were only a handful who appeared on the green side when I went out for coffee.” Cynwrig rose from his chair and offered me a hand. He’d spent the majority of the last three and a half hours regaling me with nonsense stories to take my mind off things, and it was probably that as much as me lying down that had prevented a full-on revolt from my stomach. “You think you can make it back to the van, or do you want me to carry you?”

“You can’t carry me. It’ll throw you off-balance.”

“The seas are easing as we speak. I’ll be fine.”

“So will I.” His raised eyebrow suggested skepticism, so I added, “Truly. As the seas ease, so does the sickness.”