"Yes, well, I'll thank you not to kill my boat either, if you please," David said, winking at Bette as he stroked the railing of the Soledad. "I am rather fond of her."
He strolled the deck with a dancer's grace, hips swaying with the music, and the waves. "Of course you get a drink too, Miss Aimee," he said, his smile flashing brilliantly against his naturally tanned complexion. "I'd hate to start a catfight in the middle of the water." He smirked. "Save that for the beach."
He glanced over at Charlotte. It hadn't escaped his notice that she was much more reserved than her companions. "Can I get you a soda, or something?" he offered, "There's plenty on ice, down below."