CHAPTER 8
Grace had walked down the pier with trepidation. Not a feeling she was used to having. Yet there it was, she was nervous.
As she passed each boat one by one and read the name painted on the side she could plainly see none of them were the Lady Jane. Knowing that the man who had almost sent her reeling into the ocean while simultaneously driving her senses wild with some kind of animal magnetism had disappeared onto one of the boats at the end of the pier, she also knew that the odds of him being aboard the Lady Jane increased every time she walked by another boat. Thus her sweaty palms and fluttering stomach.
For the first time since she left LAX she wished Phoenix or Rigby were with her. The comfort of a producer would be nice if she ended up face-to-face with that…that…man.
