Copper Lining (The Cardwell Family #3) - Christy Pastore Page 0,1

me,” I yell.

“Seems that I just did, princess.” He climbs up the ladder. His arms flexing as he pulls himself up.

My heartbeat quickens, much like it does when I hit my stride on the treadmill.

“What’s your problem?” I feel the wrinkles in my face deepen.

“My problem? My problem is that you could’ve gotten both of us injured, and there’s no one around for miles. We could have died out here. Not to mention, I’m responsible for this expensive yacht, and I didn’t have time to anchor it in place while you decided to take a dive into eagle ray waters.”

His words hit me with the impact. But in my defense, my emotions took over my body. The bracelet is too important to me. I never meant to put him or me in danger.

“I . . . I’m not a spoiled rich girl,” I tell him as I grasp the handles of the ladder. The water sluices off my skin as I climb higher.

Is my ass jiggling?

“Pfft, whatever. You rented this boat for a few hours by yourself. And”—his gaze sweeps down my body—“you look like you stepped out of the pages of Vogue by the way you’re dressed. Who wears this much jewelry?”

Standing on the back of the boat near the grill, I squeeze the excess water from my hair. When I’m finished, I stomp up the stairs and trek through the cabin.

I’m about to tell him off, but I bite my tongue. I don’t owe this man-child a damn thing. This is the first time in years I’ve had a vacation by myself. It’s long overdue, and I want to bask in every luxury that I can.

Champagne in my plunge pool—yes, please.

Breakfast on the beach—yep.

Private yacht tour with a guide—bucket list, hell yeah.

But this is much more than I bargained for.

“Listen up, fashionista,” he barks. “How about I take you to one of the prettiest beaches here, and you can strut around in your bikini, sippin’ champagne, and taking selfies for Instagram? Hashtag, living my best life.”

My eyes lock on his green ones, his gaze is strong and serious. Straightening my shoulders, I toss him a glare and tie my sarong around my waist.

The boat rocks back and forth hard and I lose my balance. My heart races as panic shoots through my veins.

“Oh no!” My hands grip the back of the captain’s chair.

I expect an obnoxious comment, but instead he smirks.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you go overboard again. Do me a favor and put any treasured possessions in a safe place.”

“Okay.”

An awkward silence settles between the two of us.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” I settle onto the lounge at the back of the boat and zip up my jewels in the side pocket of my bag.

“Hang on, princess.”

He turns on the engine and my hand rests on top of my head. “Can you do me a favor and not call me princess?”

“Sure thing.” He glances at his phone screen and back at me. “Minka.”

My name rolls off his tongue in the most gorgeous way. The rasp of his gritty, deep southern accent sends a shudder rolling down my spine.

The boat moves along the shoreline at a slow rate of speed. He signals a few points of interest and then steers the boat into a private cove.

“Locals only spot,” he tells me. “But by far one of the prettiest views here.”

He throttles down the boat engine and says, “Next time you want to go for a swim, at least let me do this first,” as he drops the anchor into the water.

The warning brings my annoyance back. But before I can tell him off, he hands me a glass of champagne. My eyes study the tattoo on his right forearm. It’s a script and I don’t know the language. I’m good with French, Japanese, and a little bit of Chinese, but I have no idea what this language is.

“Go on, enjoy the view. I’m going to make lunch.”

Glass in hand, I do what I’m told.

Blowing out a deep breath, I feel all the tension leave my body. I watch as he takes his time washing his hands before marching back to the front of the boat.

He’s not wrong about the view. And it irritates me that he’s right.

Wes

My blood pumps hot hours later. Both anger and annoyance flood my veins. I don’t know how or why “bracelet chick” is under my skin.

Minka.

I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around the clusterfuck I encountered earlier this