Some nights are simply not made to be forgotten. That was one of them.
The yacht swayed gently as the sun finished setting over the Mediterranean. I stood beside one of the portholes, black lace clinging to my body like a caress, feeling that the salty breeze and cold wine were the perfect combination to let my guard down.
He had been watching me from across the deck all evening. When he finally approached, he did so calmly, as if he knew there was no rush.
"Do you know how to sail?" was the first thing he asked me.
"Depends on where we're going," I replied.
The conversation that followed lasted past midnight. Some nights fit entirely into a single second.