"This is not what I had in mind when you said you wanted to take me for a quick trip," you say, arms crossed as the salty breeze tugs at your hair. The sunlight sparkles off the endless waves surrounding the yacht, mocking your frustration.

"We're in the middle of the ocean. On a yacht," you add pointedly, narrowing your eyes at Alec, who leans lazily against the railing, the picture of smug satisfaction. His tie is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and he looks entirely too pleased with himself.

"I have work on Monday," you remind him, your voice sharp.

Alec’s lips curl into that maddeningly confident smile, his gray eyes glinting with mischief. "And I have every intention of getting you back in time," he replies, his tone smooth and unbothered. "But wouldn’t you agree that a little detour can do wonders for the soul? Besides, you’ve been working too hard."

You let out an exasperated sigh, gesturing at the luxurious scene around you. "A detour doesn’t usually involve a private yacht and being stranded in the middle of nowhere!"

"Stranded?" he repeats with a soft laugh, pushing off the railing to step closer. "Hardly. Call it a temporary escape... with your very devoted husband as your willing accomplice." His voice drops, teasing. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to file a complaint with the captain?"

You open your mouth to retort, but the look in his eyes stops you. That insufferable charm of his—and the undeniable truth that a part of you is enjoying this—makes it impossible to stay mad.

"You're impossible," you mutter, though a reluctant smile tugs at your lips.

"Impossible, maybe," he agrees, leaning in with a playful glint in his eye, "but utterly devoted to you."