Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Full Page Image
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- NEXT
- EXCERPT STOLEN ENGLISH
- Acknowledgments
- ALSO BY TASHA BOYD
- About the Author
I dragged a comb through my dark hair that was even darker when wet and slicked it back to a low bun. The dark hair and pale skin made my gray-green eyes stand out more. Grabbing my make-up bag, I put on moisturizer, under eye concealer so I didn’t look ghoulish, and lip balm, then stared at myself in the mirror. “You can do this,” I whispered to myself. “You are capable of anything.”
I took a deep breath and headed out of my room to find my way upstairs.
Chapter Nine
I followed the reverse route of the one I’d come down with Andrea.
One level up was the main living area we’d walked into upon arriving on the boat. No one was around, but a delicious smell of grilled fish and garlic wafted from somewhere, and my stomach grumbled. It had been a long time since that baguette on the train. I turned to the stairwell and continued up, holding onto the brass handrail. Outside the windows, the sun was low in the sky and gleaming off all the other boats bobbing in rows. The third deck was a smaller sitting room with three steps to the bridge where I saw the captain, Paco, pouring over some large unrolled maps.
I knocked lightly on the highly varnished wood paneling on the wall next to me, and he looked up. “Hi,” I said. “I didn’t realize people still used paper maps to navigate.”
His swarthy face split into a grin, revealing perfectly straight, though tobacco stained, teeth. “Ah, yes, but I am also a treasure hunter. Old charts are the way to find the old bays and caves.” His English was good, but his accent was hard to place.
My eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Yep. If you’re lucky you’ll see old annotations and symbols. Dauphine likes to come up here and look over the charts and let me know where she thinks treasure might be.” His kindly eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “Is everything to your liking in your cabin?”
“Yes, thank you. More than comfortable. Am I allowed to keep the window open?”
“As long as the weather is good and we are anchored, I see no problem with that. We have air-conditioning though.”
“It’s more that I need to be connected to a wide-open space. Fresh air.”
“Ah.” He nodded with understanding, then his eyes flicked to the ceiling. “He’s waiting for you.”
I gave the captain a casual salute and turned toward the stairs.