Page 19 of Chasing Paradise

Because as the boat roared to life, there was no way for Wick to hear me. Or feel me climbing over the back of the boat and dropping down onto the deck.

I’d just barely landed when the boat took off, making my stomach bottom out and my heart fly up into my throat.

My arms and legs shot out, bracing against the sides of the boat as I tried to reason with the panic that swelled inside of me.

I’d been on boats before.

A massive cruise ship that was like an island to itself on vacation with my parents as a kid; a deck boat, drunk with my cousins as a young adult; even, once, a private yacht as I dragged the spoiled heiress off with me.

But speedboats were a whole new beast when spurred on at full tilt, it seemed.

For starters, they certainly lived up to their name.

My whole body felt like it was vibrating as the boat cut through the serene water.

The boat from Isla Baltra to Santa Cruz had moved at a leisurely pace, the owners likely not wanting to be responsible for cleaning up vomit from tourists whose stomachs couldn’t handle the speed.

My own stomach felt a little worryingly wobbly, making me regret the delicious blueberry muffin I’d devoured back on the plane as it seemed to be inching its way back up my throat.

“Oh, God,” I groaned. The boat took a hairpin turn, making me need to focus on breathing in and out through my nose while also trying to choke the bile back down as it inched up to the back of my throat.

Just when I thought I might genuinely be sick all over the pristine white deck, the boat shook as it glided up out of the water.

Onto the shore, I imagined.

Though why there wasn’t a dock was beyond me.

Before I could wrap my head around that, though, the engine cut, leaving my ears feeling like they were buzzing.

“You can come out now, duchess.”

My head whipped over, finding Wick towering over me, head cocked to the side, the barest hint of a smile pulling up the corner of his lips.

“You’re looking a little green.”

“Just a little?”

I knew I needed to get up.

But I couldn’t seem to make myself move as my stomach flip-flopped ominously, still not convinced we were on solid ground.

“Don’t do that,” I groaned as Wick jumped off the boat, making it rock lightly side to side, making my stomach contents surge up again.

I couldn’t say how long I lay there like that, staring up at the cotton candy clouds and endless blue sky, taking slow, deep breaths as I tried to reason with my sloshing stomach.

I didn’t even care that Wick had known I’d stowed away on his boat. Or that he was off doing God-knew-what. Maybe even disappearing on another boat off to some other island.

If I moved, I knew I would be sick.

So I stayed exactly where I was, waiting for my system to settle.

Maybe it took ten minutes. Or an hour. I had no idea.

But, eventually, my stomach calmed down enough for me to fold up and look around.

I’d been expecting more of the sandy beaches and lush greens.

Instead, this island almost seemed to be mostly more arid, like a desert.

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