Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Not the detective trying to grill him for answers.
Damien studies me for a second, and I can tell he doesn’t quite buy it, but thankfully he lets it slide. He wants me to relax, recharge, and forget about work for a while. And honestly, that’s a good thing, I remind myself. Having a man who actually cares about me and my career? That’s rare.
“Okay, let’s get on the yacht and grab some champagne,” Damien says, his tone easy, his hand slipping into mine.
“Hell yeah!” I laugh, pulling him up the ramp with me. We’re surrounded by pure luxury, and I’m determined to enjoy every second of it.
So, enjoy it. That’s the plan.
Once on deck, I down the first glass of champagne like the middle-class girl I am, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Another, please.”
My request makes him grin, and the butterflies in my stomach do their usual happy dance. Making him happy makes me happy. “What the lady wants,” he says, grabbing two glasses from a passing waiter with a nod. “Now, are you ready to tell me what’s really on your mind?”
I nod slowly, taking a long sip, letting the expensive champagne warm me from the inside. “I don’t want to fight, Damien,” I admit as the yacht starts to pull away from the dock, the party just beginning.
“Then let’s not fight. But I need to know.”
“Fine,” I snap, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “You say that isn’t you in the photo, but if I can see the resemblance, other people will too, Damien.”
He starts to speak, probably gearing up for another denial, but I cut him off.
“Let’s say I believe you—it’s not you,” I continue, even though deep down, I know it’s him. “But what if the killer thinks it’s you?”
He freezes and his smile fades. The shock on his face tells me the thought never occurred to him. “You’re worried about me?”
I roll my eyes, inhaling deeply to give myself a moment so I don’t flip my shit on this man who owns my heart in front of a yacht full of people.
“Of course I’m fucking worried about you,” I whisper. “This guy has killed several of the people in that photo with you, or not you,” I add, the sarcasm in my voice thick. “How can I not worry that you’re next on the list, especially when you lie to me about it?”
“I’m not lying,” he says, and there’s a little heat in his words.
“Whatever,” I growl in reply and knock my drink back. “I don’t want to fight about it.” Men are so fucking stupid. How can he think that I won’t worry that he’s on the killer’s list? That it only now occurred to him pisses me off even more.
He might be obscenely rich—and smart—but he’s not untouchable.
“I need to head to the restroom before this Welcome Aboard party kicks off.”
“I’ll be right here waiting, Francesca.”
Welp. Back to being Francesca. I hurry off to the restroom and glance at my reflection, scoffing at the frustrated woman staring back at me.
Damn. I’m on a luxury cruise for three days with the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and he did all of this for me. Who am I to question him? If he says it’s not him in that photo, then it’s not him. End of story. I swipe on a summery shade of pink lipstick and head back to Damien.
Tonight, I’m going to relax, get a little tipsy, and enjoy my man. No more overthinking.
“Hey, handsome,” I say, laying a hand on his forearm, grinning as he turns toward me.
“Francesca, you’re gorgeous.” His eyes heat up as he leans in, brushing a soft kiss along my jaw. “I’m sorry I upset you,” he whispers, his breath warm in my ear.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I instinctively arch into him. “I’m not upset. I’m just scared for you, Damien.” I kiss him again, soft and far too quick. “But let’s not talk about that anymore.” I’ve already said more than I wanted to, and it’s time to change the mood.
“Okay. Drink?” he offers, his tone lighter.
“Definitely,” I say with a smile. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing important. Everything from massages to cocktails, meals and valet services are all included in the costs. That man over there is the captain if you need anything special and that woman over there is the concierge.” He points to a woman in tailored slacks and a blouse with a scarf around her neck.
We grab drinks at the bar, and I notice Damien strategically avoiding everyone who might recognize him and want to chat. “Let’s toast. To lovers, getaways and a good time.”
Damien’s lips part into a bright smile. “I’ll certainly drink to that.” He taps the edge of his glass to mine and takes a slow, sultry sip. “Dance with me?”