Page 17 of Lovely Venom

I text them our ETA and ask them to prepare a meal for Chantel, then I send another text to Mariella to meet us in the family room when we arrive.

The car ride to the marina is quiet, save for the sound of the movie playing in the backseat. Chantel and I don’t talk, and when we arrive, I find that she dozed off.

I stare at her as two of my men come to greet me, asking if I need help. I hand them her overnight bag and shoes before I lean down and lift her into my arms. Her head lolls against my chest, and surprisingly, she doesn’t stir as I carry her onto the vessel.

I take her to the interior salon and lay her down on one of the lounges, covering her with a throw blanket before I take the seat across the room.

A moment later, the stewardess appears, greeting me quietly when she notices Chantel sleeping.

“Good evening, Mr. Vitale. Would you like me to serve the meal now?”

“Keep it warm until she wakes,” I instruct her.

She nods. “An old-fashioned for you, sir?”

“Yes, thank you, Veronica. You can dim the lights too.”

She prepares me a drink at the bar, delivering it to the side table before she retreats below deck.

A shift in Chantel’s breathing has me glancing over at her, only to find she’s curled into herself as she clutches the blanket in her fists. The tension on her face is a good indication she’s dreaming about something, but what?

I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so unsettled in their sleep, and it disturbs me far more than I’d like.

As I’m considering whether to wake her, her entire body stiffens and she sucks in a sharp breath. Then, before I can do anything, she opens her eyes.

3

CHANTEL

Blinking through the fog, my eyes dart around the unfamiliar surroundings. The first things I notice are chrome, glass, and soft strips of blue light.

A low, steady hum fills my ears as a warm, masculine scent surrounds me. It’s familiar, in a distant way, but the details are just outside the reach of my memory.

At first, it calms me, until I actually register the position of my body, and the uncertainty of how I got here.

I’m sprawled across a lounge, covered with a blanket I don’t recognize. And when my eyes drift further, they settle on the silhouette of a man sitting across from me in the darkness.

My breath stalls as a singular thought loops through my brain.

He found me.

A tremor moves through me as I abandon all reason and scramble forward, searching for an exit. But before I can even force myself upright, the lights come on, and my fear turns to mortification when my gaze collides with Cristian’s.

“You’re on the boat,” he informs me, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’re heading to the island.”

A ragged breath spills out of me as heat crawls down my neck. Of course I’m on the boat. But naturally, my mind had to go to the worst-case scenario while Cristian’s here to witness it.

My humiliation has come full circle tonight.

After taking a minute to collect myself, I scoot back and curl my knees into my chest.

“How did I get here?”

His gaze dips to the pulse in my neck. “I carried you.”

A fresh sense of alarm unravels inside me as I consider that. “I didn’t wake up?”

“No,” he says quietly. “You didn’t.”