Carson’s POV
We ate breakfast on the terrace, the endless ocean stretching before us like a canvas painted in brilliant azure beneath the morning sun.
Larissa seemed more at ease now, the nervous tension from earlier melting away as she ate.
“This is actually really good,” she said, spearing another piece of scrambled egg with her fork.
“I told you I excel at everything.”
“Except being modest.”
“Modesty is a waste of time.” I lifted my coffee cup to my lips. “So what are your plans today, Mrs. Gary?”
The formal address made her freeze mid-bite, her fork suspended in the air.
“I’m going to need time to adjust to that.”
“You have twelve months to get used to it.”
“Right.” She placed her fork down carefully. “Since this is our honeymoon, I guess my schedule depends on whatever you have in mind.”
“I’ve got several thoughts.” My eyes roamed over her body, focusing on where my oversized t-shirt had shifted up her smooth thighs. “None of them require leaving this villa.”
