Notorious in Nice by Jianne Carlo Read Free Book Online Page B

chanted her mantra praying for tranquility. Desperate rage forced the words out of her mouth. “Do you think we can scatter my mother’s ashes while we’re on this cruise?”
    The abrupt topic change provoked a stunned silence.
    The back of her uncle’s neck turned a beet red.
    Aunt Emma’s mouth tightened into a flat line.
    “Are you sure you’re ready for that? We both know how much you loved Annika, and how close the two of you were.”
    Su-Lin hit the window switch and fresh air rolled in, cooling her heated flesh. The briny tang in the gusts helped clear her mind. “I’m ready.”
    “You don’t want to wait for a bit?” her uncle asked. His azure eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “Have more time to grieve? We saw a grief counselor before coming to the States, and his advice was not to make any drastic changes for at least one year.”
    “I’m ready, Uncle James.”
    “Okay, love. All we want is for you to be happy.”
    She hated his kindness, his understanding, his gentle handling of her. She deserved to be punished for being ashamed of her mother, for hiding her away. Annika Taylor’s mind had fractured after her husband died, and it had been left to Su-Lin to care for her, to keep her from an asylum, to be the parent.
    Wretched memories kept her occupied during the long drive, and she jumped when Uncle James proclaimed, “Well, I’ll be. This is some boat.”
    Wealth.
    The bay teemed with it.
    Yachts, luxury sailing ships, ritzy sports cars in colorful hues blurred the sweeping vista facing Su-Lin.
    Monte Carlo; she pinched her forearm, overwhelmed by her good fortune.
    Today they started a three-week cruise on an actual yacht captained by Terrence O’Connor, her future lover. Staring at the boat, she stepped onto the immaculate cement dock.
    Su-Lin took in the resplendence of the yacht, the proud curves, and the three tiered decks. Her heart, already joyful at the prospect of sailing the Mediterranean, vaulted over a full-fledged hurdle when she glimpsed streaked blond hair glinting red highlights and walnut-toned biceps framed by a tight black T-shirt.
    Her eyes focused on Terrence puffing on a cigar, blowing smoke rings, which disappeared as they rose against the perfection of a powder blue sky. She never noticed her uncle unpacking their luggage, didn’t acknowledge her relatives’ presence, but followed them on autopilot. On board, she came to a stop in front of a lanky, handsome man wearing a brown Stetson set at a rakish angle.
    “Welcome to the Glory ,” he drawled in this sexy, send-shivers-up-your-spine voice. “Harrison Ford, first mate, at your absolute disposal. I saw you on the beach in Antibes a while back, sugar. Amazing performance. Surely you’re Olympic material?”
    His palm enfolded her small hand, and he brushed full lips over the throbbing vein at her wrist. Bemused by the way he said the word “sugar,” like it had no R and a host of Hs , shug-ah, her lips curved, hoping he’d say it again. She paraphrased it in her mind, shug-ah, and drew in gulps of his Acqua Di Gio aftershave as her stomach did a giddy slide into his twinkling honey eyes.
    She rushed out, “I made the team four years in a row but had to drop out. Then I shot up. I’m too tall for Olympic competition.” She stifled a groan, too much information. It still amazed her how rich people conducted a conversation. They asked questions as greetings but didn’t expect answers, far less the truth.
    “An itty bitty thing like you?” Liquid caramel eyes glistened sympathy beneath arched eyebrows. “Shucks, sugar, that’s their loss. I took a shot of you on my cell. Remind me, and I’ll show it to you later.”
    He had taken a picture of her? This man with rock-star looks and Indiana Jones charm?
    Su-Lin fell back when her uncle stepped forward.
    “I’m James Lockheed, and this is my wife, Emma, my niece, Su-Lin.”
    “Nice to meet y’all. Terrence O’Connor’s the captain, but he’s tied up