Crazy For Love

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_0cd3715c-6aa0-53c2-81bc-ae741d9c5c45)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_5ef9dff4-71a7-5daa-90c6-45cf320b74ff)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_8bab4732-aa89-55a8-8361-ba71b9969f94)

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_971a4c2b-1728-50af-a288-91329f4d5295)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_5b1ac0d2-2cc7-5993-b33e-4599f8c25061)

CHLOE TURNER STARED DOWN into the black, roiling water, squinting her eyes against the cool spray. The wind ate into her skin. When the boat dipped into a trough, the water rose up, reaching for her, trying to pull her under. She drew her head back as if she could avoid the swipe of the watery paw. Before she could recover from the fear of that close call, the boat tipped up, climbing toward the crest of another wave. The storm had come out of nowhere. She suspected they were in big trouble.

A slender hand settled on her shoulder, offering faint comfort.

“I think we might die out here,” Chloe murmured.

The hand smacked her arm. Hard. “Oh, for God’s sake, Chloe. It’s a frickin’ ferryboat. Get over yourself.”

Chloe tossed a glare at her best friend, Jenn. “We’re in the middle of the ocean. In a storm.”

“First of all, we’re barely out of the bay. Second, there’s a nine-year-old kid a few feet away who’s having the time of his life.”

The boat rose on another storm-tossed wave, and Chloe’s stomach dropped. When the boy hooted with excitement, she glared in his direction. “Idiot,” she muttered.

Jenn smacked her again. “If a reporter heard you say that, you’d be screwed.”

“They can’t find me on a boat. Isn’t that the reason we’re sailing straight into the perfect storm?”

“Be nice or I’ll call and alert them to your whereabouts.”

Chloe shrugged and pushed a strand of wet brown hair out of her eyes. “I’ll be tipped off when you put on makeup and turn on the cleavage show.”

A smile pulled up the corners of her friend’s mouth. “I did look pretty hot last Saturday.”

Chloe smiled back. “You did. Especially when you put your hand in front of the camera and yelled, ‘She is not an animal!’”

“Oh, God,” Jenn groaned, using that very same hand to cover her eyes. “I still can’t believe that. It was so chaotic.”

“The good news is that a nineteenth-century London freak show called to offer me a stall. I get to keep half the coins the public pelts at me.”

Jenn shook her head, the hood of her windbreaker slipping back to expose her gorgeous blond hair. “You’ll never get tired of that joke, will you?”

“Never.” As Chloe’s laughter faded, she glanced over her shoulder, as if she could still see the Virginia coastline behind her. “Do you think they followed us?”

“The photographers?” Jenn’s eyes clouded with worry, but Chloe was already feeling silly. No speeding car had followed them from Richmond. No black van had screeched up to the ferry landing to disgorge a pack of paparazzi. Chloe might feel infamous and trapped by the notoriety thrust upon her by her ex-fiancé, but she wasn’t hunted day and night. Not quite.

“No one saw us leave, Chloe.”

“I know, I know. Sorry, it’s just—” The ferry swayed forward and a loud thump vibrated up through her knees. “Oh, God!” she cried out, grabbing for the railing. “This is it. We’re going down.”

Mouth flat with obvious disgust, Jenn shook her head. “We’re at the dock, you coward.”

“Are you kidding me?” Chloe looked around, eyes widening at the dark shadow of the dock looming out of the mist. “We made it? Oh, my God, we actually made it!”

“You won’t have to fight that kid for a seat on the lifeboat, so I’m pretty relieved, too.”

“I totally could’ve taken him,” Chloe murmured under her breath as she followed Jenn to the walkway. Jenn must’ve heard her, because she twisted around to give Chloe a narrow look.

Chloe had been a nice, happy person just a month before. The kind of girl who’d never joke about fighting a kid for a seat on a lifeboat. Hopefully, somewhere deep inside, she was still nice, but she’d taken so many brutal blows in the past few weeks that she couldn’t feel anything but the dull pain of layered bruises.

But not right now. Not this week. Jenn had arranged this trip to get Chloe away from the insanity created by her broken engagement. They’d managed to ditch the paparazzi back on the mainland, and there was no roaring speedboat looming out of the mist to catch them.

Jenn had assured her that the tiny resort on White Rock Island didn’t have any TVs, and the whole island was limited to fuzzy reception on old-fashioned antennas. This might be the one place where Chloe wouldn’t be recognized.