Chapter One

      The summer sun blazed down onto Violet’s upturned face, soaking into her body to melt away the tension that had been building since she’d arrived in Key Largo two days ago. Dazzling points of sunlight glinted across countless rippling waves as the boat sped toward a nearby coral reef, the rush of wind softening the heat and sending her long, dark hair fluttering out behind her. The sweet scent of orange and coconut tanning oil teased her senses.

      She was on summer vacation from her job teaching fourth grade, although it didn’t feel like much of a vacation. She’d been putting off this trip, but with the end of the school year she’d run out of excuses. She couldn’t believe it had already been two whole months since the day she’d stood beside the ugly upturned earth that marked her parents’ graves.

      Vicki and George Hendrickson had always loved the ocean, reveled in its mystery and magic, and they had instilled that love in their only daughter. Even now, being on the ocean soothed and calmed Violet—despite the fact that, in the end, it had been this very expanse of water that had stolen her parents’ lives.

      Violet sighed. She’d thought she was almost at peace with the unfair way in which they’d been taken from her. But two days spent alone in their cozy garden villa, going through closets scattered with Hawaiian shirts that carried traces of her dad’s aftershave, and her mom’s eclectic collection of hats, had stirred her grief back up to the surface.

      She needed a break, intending to go for a walk down by the docks and maybe a swim on the beach. But she’d happened past this snorkeling tour just as it was leaving and joined it on a whim.

      Maybe it was the boat’s name that called to her—Ocean Magic—painted in bright, glowing blue against the vessel’s crisp, white-washed stern. Or perhaps she was drawn by the challenge of embracing the ocean again after what had happened; proving that she held neither fear nor blame for it.

      Violet couldn’t help a small smirk as she admitted to herself that it also might have had something to do with the sexy boat captain rounding up customers from the dock as she passed. The husky timbre of his voice had lured her over, Irish if she wasn’t mistaken. She was a sucker for that particular accent. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was built like a Celtic god.

      She stole a peek at him through the dark lenses of her sunglasses. He stood at the polished mahogany captain’s wheel, the wind ruffling his short honey-brown hair, all easy self-assurance as he chatted with a pair of women who sat nearby.

      Just her luck, they both looked like supermodels. She inhaled the brisk salt-air and turned away to stare out at the fathomless aquamarine water, determined to enjoy her adventure with or without the attention of the handsome boat captain.

      As the boat coasted to a halt, she peeled off her shorts and