Page 61 of Ruined Vows
“I just agreed to be trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean with a Serbian warlord.”
A pause. Then: “Oh my God, you’re finally going on a honeymoon?” I chortle, she’s got a sense of humor.
“Jo.It’s a date.”
“Same thing when you’re emotionally constipated and halfway in love.”
I groan and fall back onto the bed. “He said sunrise.Sunrise.What kind of man thinks 6 a.m. is romantic?”
“The kind who wants you sweaty and desperate before breakfast.”
“I’m bringing sunscreen, a flask, and a knife.”
“Put that on a T-shirt,” she snarks.
I chuckle. She’s the best. I roll onto my side, staring at the text again:“You just bring that mouth.”
“You should see how he talks to me,” I mutter. “Like he already knows how this ends.”
Joanne hums. “Because he does.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
That’s not what I wanted to hear. What is she talking about?
“You’re going. Aren’t you?” she asks, breaking my train of thought.
“…Yes.”
“You’re already picking a bikini, aren’t you?”
“…Possibly.”
“Then it’s over. He’s in your blood. He’ll be in your pants soon,” she warns.
I hate her for being so, well, honest. She’s right. It’s my worst nightmare. He’s getting under my skin, which makes each date all the more dangerous.
I hate that the idea of being alone on the water with him makes my stomach flutter and my thighs press together. And he’s not even here. What will I do when I’m alone with him for hours?
He’s more sculpted than the most incredible works of art. His face and body are chilled, and his reserved demeanor makes him appear unavailable to most, but not to me. There’s a softness in his voice when he teases me that just melts me.
His salt and pepper hair makes him look distinguished, and I’m sure his eyes will be gorgeous against the backdrop of the ocean— like I need anything else to make him look even hotter than he is.
Maybe he’ll get hot and take his shirt off.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, I need to stop thinking about him!
“He didn’t even threaten me this time,” I say quietly. Iwonder if he’s still going to pursue me or if he’ll surrender first. Is there any chance that I’m wearing him down?
“Oh, sweetheart,” she replies. “Thatisthe threat.” Just thinking about him makes me hot. I groan as I toss the covers back. “This man is going to be the death of me.”
Joanne laughs, that low, dangerous laugh that always precedes trouble. “Just remember to hydrate. You’re going to need it.”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” I snap, too quickly.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course not. That’s why you’re shaving your legs like you’re prepping for surgery.”
“I hate you.”
