I didn’t mean to stow away on the yacht, I swear.
My first mistake was going home with the jerk at the bar, but in my defense, Prescott said he owned the Worthington - 90 feet of sleek, yachty perfection - and if I could get the chief mate’s job, I’d have an excuse to stay on board and keep avoiding my family and my future.
How was I supposed to know he was the owner’s cheating, gold-digging almost brother-in-law, or that I’d end up stuffed in a closet when the ship left the harbor?
When the real owner finds me and offers me a different job - being his fake boyfriend on a cruise through the British Virgin Islands to tempt Prescott to reveal his cheating ways - that’s when I make my second mistake: I agree.
Turns out, Jonathan Worthington isn’t just a billionaire, he’s funny and generous and a little bit of a control freak. He’s also six feet of sleek, gorgeous silver fox perfection, and suddenly, it’s not just his yacht I’m lusting over.
Worth thinks I’m way too young and flighty for anything more serious than spending the week in his bed...but if you believe we won’t fall in love before the cruise is over, I have a yacht in the Caribbean to sell you.