It was the first time Isabella had ever woken up to a view like that — the endless stretch of blue ocean just beyond the balcony, the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore. Everything about the room was surreal: the crisp, white sheets, the golden morning light pouring through the curtains, the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. She had been awake for a while, taking it all in, still trying to believe it was real. The Copacabana Palace was a world far removed from hers — every detail of the suite felt like something out of a movie. For a girl who had grown up with little, the luxury around her was dizzying. Only when she felt the warm, muscular arm around her waist tighten slightly, pulling her closer, did she remember she wasn't alone. "You're the first Brazilian I’ve met who gets this impressed by the sea." Damon murmured against her ear, his deep, husky voice coated with sleep, his hand possessively caressing her bare waist. Just last night, the global sensation — fresh off his first sold-out show in Rio — had spotted her in the crowd. He could have chosen anyone, but he had walked straight up to her