Page 478 of Hidden Depths
But it wasn’t my story to tell. Calle lived on her yacht, docked in our pier.
Ward came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Where are we going?”
“You booked the charter.”
“I canceled the charter.”
I turned in his arms.
“What?”
“I wanted Sea Whisper to myself.”
“You have twelve other people aboard.”
“I’m working on the definition of myself.”
I laughed.
“You’re terrible at romance.”
“I survived Blackwater.”
“That isn’t romantic.”
“I survived your sisters.”
“That’s closer.”
His mouth brushed mine.
“What if I told you I have a destination?”
“What destination?”
He pointed ahead.
A small island appeared on the horizon.
One quiet beach curved between two rocky points.
No docks.
No buildings.
Only white sand and blue water.
“I found it on Grandpa’s charts,” he said.
My smile faded.
“Which chart?”
“The one marked First Harbor.”
My heart stopped.
