Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
The man beside him is darker, scarier, and looks more like he could murder someone just for enjoyment. His hair, dark and long, shaved on the sides, makes him look like a Viking. Especially considering he has it pulled back. His eyes, a deep brown, almost black, make him even more terrifying. He is more muscular than the other two men, and he absolutely looks like he could crush me with one hand.
Rachel and Iris have appeared at the bottom of the staircase, heads bent together, eyes cutting sideways toward the three men. Iris has her hand over her mouth. Rachel keeps glancing back, the way you do when you’re trying to look like you’re not looking.
My father doesn’t do anything without a reason. He certainly doesn’t send men with scarred knuckles and neck tattoos and eyes that track every exit just to make sure a group of ballet dancers don’t get too drunk and fall overboard.
Why do I feel like I’m missing something?
A crew member appears with a tray of champagne flutes, the perfect cue for me to leave and find a room, before I overthink this situation any further. I take two—one for myself, one for Tati—then head up the stairs, Ace’s gaze burning into my back the whole way.
For the next half hour, I wander the upper decks, exploring. I find myself a beautiful room with an ocean view and a spa bath, and throw my stuff down. Aggie catches up with me on the sun deck, arms loaded with towels. “Dude, those men are fucking fine. Do you think they’re, like, mafia or something?”
I laugh. “No, but they’re definitely something.”
“Well, I’m not complaining. I’m a single girl and we’re here on a yacht with these gorgeous men for a week. I’m taking my chances at getting into at least one of their pants.”
I snort, but grin. “You’re an animal.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
I keep the grin.
We find and settle into deck chairs, sun warming our legs. The morning dissolves into laughter, and the distant hum of engines as Virtue pulls away from the dock, the city shrinking in the haze.
For one perfect hour, I believe it might actually be a vacation.
2
BEING DRUNK ON A BOAT is fun, until it isn’t.
Then suddenly, the gentle swaying feels a whole lot like you might fall over the edge and drown.
At least, that’s how my night is starting to go. It started with way too many cocktails, dancing, swimming and more food than I could possibly need. Now, I’m standing on the upper deck, fingers curled around the railing, trying to get my head to stop spinning. I focus on the horizon, afraid to look down because I will absolutely vomit.
“If we go down while we’re out here, can you tell everyone I’m six foot three and that I was a hero?”
I jerk, spinning around to see the strange guy who was with the captain yesterday. Up close, he is even more nerdy than he looked from a distance. He has thick-framed glasses, sandy blond hair brushed to the side, and light green eyes. He seems friendly, though, and there is a quirky feel about him that is certainly unique.
“I’ll write that down,” I say, not missing a beat, “and commission a marble statue for the mainland so everyone knows how heroic you were.”
The guy grins, then sticks a hand out toward me. “Adrian Moretti,” he says, “former scholarship kid, current walking cautionary tale, future star of cable news disaster coverage.”
I shake his hand.
His palm is soft, cold, and a little damp. He holds onto my fingers a touch too long, staring into my face with an intensity that has me feeling slightly uncomfortable. “You looked like you were planning your own burial at sea,” he says. “You’re not, right? If you are, can I have your spot in the lifeboat? I bruise like a peach.”
This is so unexpected I half-laugh, half-snort. It’s impossible to dislike someone so upfront about their lack of survival skills.
“I’m Grace. Not six foot three,” I say, “and if I go down, just tell people I was dignified, or at least not screaming. Maybe I rescued a small child, just for good measure.”
Adrian leans in. “I have got you covered. For now, I’m going to check out the electronics on this big boat. Maybe see how the lifeboat situation is. Did you know that whales could eat us if only they were a little more ambitious?”
I stare at him. “I hadn’t thought of that, no.”
He nods. “Something to think about. Goodnight, Grace.”
I laugh. “Bye, Adrian.”
Well, what a damn encounter that was.
I go back to looking over the railing, trying to ignore my stomach turning.
“Never a good idea to drink on a boat,” a voice growls next to me, low enough that I jump.