He’s also six feet of sleek, gorgeous silver fox perfection, and suddenly, it’s not just his yacht I’m lusting over. Turns out, Jonathan Worthington isn’t just a billionaire, he’s funny and generous and a little bit of a control freak. 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. 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? My first mistake was going home with the jerk at the bar, but in my defense, Prescott said he owned the Worthington-ninety 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. I didn’t mean to stow away on the yacht, I swear.
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