Jesus, Ella.
He grabbed her elbow before she could step into a pool of golden light spilling from a nearby launch. “Okay,” he whispered. “Rule one of crimes: we do not announce ourselves.”
“This isn’t a crime,” she whispered back, entirely too cheerful. “It’s borrowing.”
“From a man who’s not here.”
“Yes. Who’s also not using it.”
She tugged free of his grip and kept walking. “Anyway, the whole point is to look like we belong.”
Nate rubbed his temples and followed, because what else was he going to do?
“Ella—”
“This one,” she breathed, stopping so abruptly he nearly walked into her.
To their left loomed a speedboat so sleek and white it looked like it had been plucked from a Bond villain’s wet dream. Ella squinted at the name on the hull:Hat Trick.
“Yep. Belongs to some Danish footballer,” she said. “Takes it out once, maybe twice a year to impress his dates. The rest of the time, it marinates in ego.”
Nate crossed his arms. “You did recon?”
Ella gasped. “I prefer verified availability. And Mr. Svend-Something-Or-Other is currently posting workout selfies from Mykonos. Hashtag ‘blessed.’ Hashtag ‘no days off.’ His boat is clearly very off. We’re just exercising it.”
“Yeah, I don’t think ‘we were helping’ is going to impress a judge.”
She huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Look, if you’re too scared, we can go.”
Scared? Maybe a little. Intrigued was closer. Turned on, closer still. Watching Ella sashay down a dock like a modern-day pirate queen was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. And that? Trouble written all over it.
A creak of wood snapped Nate’s head toward a nearby yacht. A silver-haired man in a crisp blazer appeared at the top of the gangplank, one hand on the rail, backlit by cabin light. He paused, eyes narrowing as he took them in before descending onto the boardwalk.
“Bonsoir,” he said with a slow, assessing nod.
Ella pressed her hand into Nate’s arm, a silentshut up, I’ve got this, before flashing a toothy smile. “Bonsoir. Belle nuit,hein?” She gestured toward the sky, where the first stars were beginning to pierce the twilight.
The man’s expression wavered, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as he followed her gaze upward. For a moment, he stood there. Then, with a shrug, like he’d decided it wasn’t worth the effort, he exhaled, “Magnifique,” before continuing on his way.
Nate stared after him.What the hell are you doing, man?his brain hissed. Common sense was hollering at him to reel her in before someone called the cops.
But then Ella planted her hands on her hips. The moon caught the edge of her cheekbone, the wild spark in her eyes. “Well?” she said, one eyebrow arched. “You in or out?”
He raked a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his head as if he could physically restrain himself. Shit. This was how people ended up in the news. This was how his mother ended up sayingI told you sowith devastating accuracy. But he knew he wasn’t walking away. Not tonight. If she jumped, he’d jump. If she sank, he’d dive after her, just to hold onto this a little while longer.
“Fine. We take it out for an hour and bring it back before anyone notices it’s missing. But if we get caught, I’m claiming you kidnapped me.”
Ella’s lips twitched. “Deal.”
Without a word, she swung her handbag and let it thud into the boat. Nate flinched, eyes scanning the pier.
“You always this impulsive?” he asked, a half-laugh hiding in his voice, the kind that couldn’t quite mask the fact that his pulse had jumped.
Ella considered the question and shook her head. “No. That’s the funny part.” She hoisted herself over the railing, disappearing for a moment before straightening on the deck and stretching out her fingers toward him. “Hanging out with you makes me feel like I can do things.”
“Like?”
“Oh, big things. Wrong things. Anything things,” she said offhand, as if the words weren’t important until they were already out.
