"Miss Sam, you're here."
Hunter paused for a moment, then quickly recovered his composure. He gestured for her to come in, smiling apologetically.
"Sorry about that. I'm still dealing with jet lag, so I slept in a bit late. Come in and have a seat. I'll be ready in a moment."
Sam hesitated, then nodded. "Sorry to intrude."
She knew about these seaside villas near the Paradise Island beaches. In the past, she had only admired them from a distance while passing by, never dreaming she'd have a reason to enter one. She couldn't deny a flicker of curiosity.
"Make yourself at home," Hunter said.
He pretended to reach into the villa's refrigerator, but in reality, he pulled a bottle of sparkling water from his [Inventory] and handed it to her.
"Apologies, this is the only drink I have on hand. Give me a few minutes; I'm just finishing up breakfast."
Sam glanced warily at the bottle. Seeing the seal was intact and recognizing it as a common brand from the local supermarket, she nodded and accepted it.
Hunter noted her caution with silent approval. Her wariness was a survival trait he respected.
The kitchen was an open-concept space adjacent to the living room, allowing Sam to watch him as he worked. Hunter returned to the stove, where a pot of his "Hunter-style" tomato beef stew—an improved version of a classic recipe—was simmering.
Sam watched his busy back, and the defensiveness in her eyes slowly began to recede.
"Smells amazing," she thought.
The rich aroma of tomato and beef soon filled the living room.
Sam hadn't eaten much since her argument with Jared the night before—just a piece of bread and a glass of milk before bed. Between the stress and the restless sleep, she had woken up late and rushed over here without breakfast to avoid making a bad first impression.
Now, smelling the savory stew, her stomach decided to stage a protest.
Grrr...
A loud growl echoed from her midsection.
Sam blushed, embarrassed. She glanced at Hunter, hoping the distance between the living room and kitchen was enough to hide the sound.
She had no idea that Hunter, with his enhanced hearing, had heard every rumble clearly.
Fortunately, Hunter's appetite was currently several times that of a normal human, so he had cooked plenty. He plated two portions and carried them to the dining table.
"Miss Sam, you came so early, I assume you haven't had time for breakfast either?"
He set the plates down.
"I made extra. Why don't you join me? It's a Chinese-style dish."
Sam opened her mouth to politely decline, but her stomach betrayed her again with another audible growl.
The flush on her sexy, sweet face deepened. She realized that refusing would only make things more awkward.
"Thank you," she said, nodding shyly. "I apologize for the imposition."
Hunter pulled out a chair for her and handed her a fork and spoon, keeping a pair of chopsticks for himself.
He sat at a respectful distance, maintaining the professional boundary he had established. Throughout the meal, he remained a perfect gentleman—no leering, no inappropriate comments. His gaze was appreciative but respectful, devoid of the predatory hunger she was used to seeing in men's eyes.
Slowly, Sam's guard lowered completely.
She speared a chunk of beef and put it in her mouth. The tender meat, soaked in the sweet and tart tomato sauce, made her eyes light up.
"This is delicious!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Hunter, your cooking is incredible."
"Thank you," Hunter smiled. "My parents passed away when I was young, so I had to learn to take care of myself early on. I'm quite confident in my culinary skills."
Showing strength to men was necessary; showing vulnerability to women was a tactic. Hunter had mastered this balance during his time in Los Angeles.
As expected, Sam's expression softened further. She looked at him with a new emotion—empathy. It seemed she saw a kindred spirit in him.
They finished breakfast quickly. Sam insisted on washing the dishes, perhaps out of guilt for the free meal, and Hunter didn't stop her.
Once the kitchen was clean, Hunter changed into fresh clothes and grabbed a large backpack.
"Here is your pay for the next five days, Miss Sam."
He handed her a stack of cash.
"Let's head out. I'll trouble you to guide me today. First, I'd like to tour the island and find a few scenic spots for sketching. Later, we can rent a yacht and some diving gear."
"Thank you! No problem at all."
Sam took the $1,000 and tucked it carefully into her bag. Given Jared's unreliable nature, she was essentially the sole provider for their household. On her salary of less than 2,000 Bahamian dollars a month, supporting two adults was a constant struggle. Without this windfall, she would never have agreed to guide a strange man alone.
They left the villa and began walking down the road.
Almost immediately, Hunter sensed eyes on them.
The tail was amateurish at best. Hunter waited for a bend in the road, then glanced back casually.
He spotted a man skulking behind them, trying—and failing—to blend in.
When Hunter saw the man's face, he froze for a split second.
FBI Agent Brian?!
But then he looked closer. The man radiated a reckless, unpolished energy that was miles away from the polished undercover cop in The Fast and the Furious. His tracking skills were non-existent.
Hunter looked back at the sexy girl walking beside him.
Sam. Jared. The Bahamas.
The pieces finally clicked into place.
"Into the Blue," Hunter mentally corrected himself. "I can't believe it's this niche movie."
"No wonder I didn't recognize her immediately."
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