Beautiful Enemy (The Enemies Trilogy Book 1)

by Piper Lawson

  We’ve been in tense, flirtatious limbo for the past few days.

  I spent extra time on my appearance before my set, hoping he’d be there. He was, and even though he was taking meetings, he spared me a hungry look from upstairs and texted me a song request.

  Then we crossed paths when he came downstairs in shorts last night while on the phone. I was grabbing a snack.

  “Who’re you talking to?” I mouthed.

  “China,” he mouthed back.

  I threw a napkin at him, which he dodged.

  Yesterday, he texted me a picture of Barney with a toy in his mouth.

  Harrison: ??

  The toy was a crocheted doll a little longer than my hand, with blond yarn hair and a stitched-on frown. It wore a dark-blue costume with a tie.

  Thanks to Barney, one of its arms was ripped off.

  Rae: Natalia got me some craft supplies the week you were gone.

  Harrison: And you were trying to send me a message?

  I laughed out loud.

  “He sounds romantic.” Callie’s voice brings me back.

  “I guess so,” I admit.

  Harrison’s not the kind of guy looking for an excuse to do something sweet.

  If anything, he’s the opposite. Determined, single-minded.

  The fact that he found out it was my birthday and is making something special from it despite my protests has my stomach flipping like a girl with a crush.

  I’m not doodling “Mrs. Harrison King” in my notebook or anything. I’ve never pictured myself as the other half of any guy, and he may not even go there again given what happened with his ex.

  But the little flutter in my chest feels entirely foreign.

  After we finish talking, I respond to some emails and social messages before heading for the door of the café.

  The sight through the glass makes me still.

  Harrison’s strolling down the street as if I conjured him with my mind, looking like elegant sin.

  When did I become the girl who has fantasies about a guy in a suit?

  But he’s not alone. The woman next to him is pretty, with big sunglasses and pale skin under a wide-brimmed hat. She smiles at him as he talks animatedly, gesturing with his hands.

  My stomach knots, hurt and disappointment twisting together into a heavy mass.

  It’s not as if we’re dating. I’m not looking for a partner, someone to settle down and create one life with, to argue with and compromise with and lie awake at night next to.

  No matter what Callie says, I need to keep my feelings for this man in check.

  Starting with whatever he has planned for my birthday.

  16

  Rae

  “I feel like a mole,” I say.

  Blackness surrounds me, but the sun warms the bare skin of my face and shoulders.

  “The spy sort? As in Mission Impossible?” Ash calls from somewhere ahead.

  “No, the underground animal sort. As in I can’t see shit.”

  The wind tugs at my hair, but the cloth around my eyes holds it firm as I walk. It doesn’t help that the firm hand on my back is warm and distractingly low.

  “Being blindfolded is not my thing,” I mutter.

  “Then you’ve never been blindfolded by the right person.” Harrison’s mouth at my ear sends shivers down my spine.

  I'd glare if I could see him. Lucky for him, I can't. “I got up early on my birthday—”

  “Eleven,” Ash corrects cheerily, sounding farther away.

  “To be kidnapped and forced to trek through God knows where.” All my attention goes to my other senses—the scent of the sea and the sound of shorebirds. The next step I take, the surface changes, giving and creaking beneath my feet.

  “I could carry you,” Harrison suggests.

  “I’d rather be thrown into the ocean.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Then the blindfold is gone and light floods my eyes, leaving me blinking in the brightness.

  Blocking part of the sun is a huge white boat.

  I’m riveted by the monstrosity tethered at the dock.

  “You got me a yacht?” My voice rises an octave as I turn to take in Harrison, who’s watching intently.

  “It’s a charter.”

  “It’s a behemoth. A leviathan. This thing blocks out the sun.”

  Yet it’s not the boat but the faces appearing over the edge that take my shock to the next level.

  “Hey, birthday girl!” Annie calls. My roommate from performing arts school waves. A big, straw hat protects her pale complexion.

  Her husband, Tyler, is next to her, a possessive arm around her shoulders.

  Elle, another friend from school, who’s now a comedian, holds a bottle of champagne over her head. “Get your ass up here before I drink this all myself.”

  Ash heads for the boarding ramp, but I turn to stare up at the man by my side.

  He’s wearing chinos and a dress shirt, his hair ruffling in the barely-there breeze as if even nature can’t resist the chance to touch him.

  His handsome face is drawn, eyes shielded from the sun with a hand.

  I’ve been to some of the biggest parties in the world, but here, at a private dock with a handful of friends and this man, I’m overwhelmed.

  “This is… obscene,” I say, struggling to form words.

  “You haven’t even seen the inside.”

  I make to grab my bag from him, but he holds it over the water. “You already lost it once,” he warns.

  “Don’t even think about it.” I wrench his arm back toward the dock while he smirks.

  Even out here, there’s an undeniable pull between us.

  He sets the bag on the dock and steps closer as if he’s thinking the same thing. But when he reaches up to touch my face, I duck away.

  “What is it?” he demands.

  “Nothing.”

  He frowns, unconvinced.

  I have a dangerous fascination with a billionaire who buys and sells properties like secondhand synths on Craigslist, and I can’t shake the memory of seeing him with another woman as if they were friendly.

  More than.

  He’s around beautiful women all the time for work, but not usually alone, and not looking as relaxed as he did strolling through the streets.

  It’s not as if I have a right to him. I can’t blame him for spending time with another woman.

  But what does throw me is how it felt.

  Like the fluttering in my stomach was quashed with a baseball bat.

  I turn away from his scrutiny, and as soon as I step onto the deck, Annie wraps me in both arms and squeezes hard.

  I shove any other thoughts from my mind as I pull back to stare at her stomach.

  “You’re huge.” I glare accusingly at Tyler, who only lifts a shoulder.

  It makes sense the rock star gets along with Harrison. They have the same serious, distant vibe.

  Annie, by contrast, is warm and genuine as she leans in. “You want a play-by-play on how the pregnancy thing went down?”

  “Not as long as you guys are good. Hey, E, thanks for coming. You guys know Harry. Harrison,” I amend, flicking him a look as he responds only with a raised eyebrow. “This is his brother, Ash.”

  They exchange greetings.

  “Welcome aboard.” The captain introduces himself with a smile, gesturing to two waitstaff. “We’re here to provide for your every need. We’ll be heading to Formentera shortly, which is only a short trip away. I expect you’ll want to take a look around. But first, would you like something to drink?”

  “Yes to the drinks,” Elle decides. “Aren’t we short a person?”

  Annie holds up her phone. “Beck called. He’s running late.”

  Ash checks his watch in irritation. “We’ll miss our chance to go snorkelling. You don’t want to spend your birthday at the docks, do you?”

  “Let’s wait for him and take a look around,” I decide.

  The sundeck has sun lo
ungers at one end, plus its own dip pool. There’s a huge dining area with a table set for six that could easily seat double. We head belowdecks next, and it’s even more insane.

  “There’s a sauna and steam room. Plus, a screening room,” Harrison says.

  He shows us the theater, and Elle sucks in a breath in admiration.

  “Six cabins. Choose whichever you like.” He gestures to the doors along a small hallway. “Except the master suite.”

  My friends chatter about the space, but Harrison’s loaded stare locks with mine.

  Does he think we’ll room together? Is he planning to seduce me this weekend with the boat and the big gesture?

  As conflicted as I am by what I saw yesterday, the idea of him and me, nothing between us but a giant bed to muffle our sounds, makes my body ache.

  I’m empty in a way I wish was only physical.

  He’s older. Experienced. He’s probably had a ton of sexual partners, and it shouldn’t matter if he has.

  But there’s nothing casual about the way I feel. I want him, but not if I’m wondering whether he’s comparing me to someone else he’s sleeping with… or planning to once I leave.

  “There’re two jet skis, plus a small fishing boat. A million other toys also,” Ash is saying as we finally head back upstairs.

  “How big is this?” Annie asks as the staff bring our drinks.

  “Forty-five meters,” Harrison says.

  “Ridiculous.”

  “It’s just big enough,” comes a voice from behind me.

  I turn to see a handsome man step onto the sundeck. His dark hair is swept up by the breeze, his eyes shielded by designer glasses. The only other thing he’s wearing is swim trunks, his shirt hanging from the back, revealing a torso and arms even more toned than the last time I saw him.

  “Beck.” The grin that tugs across my face is genuine.

  “Good thing you got the big boat. My ego has grown.” He crosses to me and sweeps me up.

  “Impossible.” I wheeze around his thick forearms digging into my ribs.

  Beck finally sets me down. “Happy birthday, Little Queen. You look good.”

  “You look like a Hollywood douche.” My gaze drops to his toned stomach. “Shit. Did you buy an ab roller?”

  Beck chuckles, nodding to the waitstaff for a drink. “Yeah right. I have a trainer who makes more an hour than I used to pay in rent.”

  I catch Harrison staring.

  “Why are we mov—oh!” I suck in a breath as the engines kick in and the yacht pulls away from its mooring.

  Beck hands me a towel, and I lay it on one of the lounger-style seats facing my friends. Harrison takes my bag toward the doorway that goes belowdecks.

  “Where are you going?” I call.

  “Taking your bag to your cabin. Given how protective you are of it, I wouldn’t leave it to the staff.”

  I trot over to him. “I need to get something,” I murmur, bending to unzip my bag.

  He waits while I open it and riffle through for sunscreen.

  A scrap of black lace falls out onto the deck, and he picks up the panties with one finger. “Care to explain?”

  My heart stops. I grab the panties out of his hand and stuff them back into the bag. “They’re called underwear.”

  “Lace,” he corrects.

  “A woman can wear lingerie for herself.”

  “But you don’t. You wear T-shirts and cotton knickers.”

  My jaw drops, and he cocks his head.

  “No, I think this means you’ve decided you respect me. Or you did, before today.”

  I shield my eyes, staring up into his gorgeous face.

  I want his hard mouth on mine, those strong hands touching me. But if we do that, I want to know I’m what he wants.

  Even it’s only for a night.

  “You can’t buy me with a boat,” I murmur.

  “Wasn’t trying to.” Harrison leans closer, smooth and determined.

  He stops when our lips are an inch apart, not meeting. I suck in a breath that’s salt air and him.

  “I know you’re young,” he says. “I’m giving you space because it’s your birthday. But whatever shit thoughts have been going through your head? I promise they don’t change what’s between you and me.”

  The next second, he’s belowdecks, my bag in hand, and I stare after him until my friends call my name.

  17

  Harrison

  When the yacht docks at Formentera, I’m still in the master cabin taking steadying breaths and willing my gut to unknot.

  This day hasn’t gone the way I planned. Rae was supposed to see the yacht and her friends and fall at my feet.

  I’ve never met a woman who wasn’t swayed by a gift either expensive or heartfelt. This one was fucking both. Yet before getting on this ship, she looked at me as if she would rather spend this weekend with anyone else.

  Even though the chemistry between us scorches hot enough to burn through the shiny white hull of this boat.

  The vibration of my phone on the bed next to me does nothing to calm my restlessness.

  “What?” I bark into the speaker.

  “How’s your weekend away?” Leni asks.

  I inhale, straightening to stare in the mirror across from the bed. “Not as advertised.”

  “Christian wants to invite you for a private dinner. Apparently, he lost your cell number, so he called me at the club.”

  The time I spent with Christian’s daughter yesterday, playing attentive host to her flirtations, only reinforced that I’m not interested in a pretty young face. Once, I would’ve entertained such a flirtation. A few dates, some lingering looks, and she would’ve been telling her father to give me the club for free.

  Now, I have no appetite to play the game. It feels not only tired and pointless but wrong. Since when did I start caring about people I barely know?

  “He told me to tell you he’s inviting Mischa too.”

  Leni’s words cut through the haze in my brain.

  No. I’m not playing games, but the old man is.

  “There’s something else,” she presses. “The LA club you went to visit? There was a hiccup early this morning. An incident.”

  The face looking back at me in the mirror grows still. “What kind of incident?”

  “A woman claims she was assaulted.”

  I switch to speakerphone so I can pull up my email. There are dozens of messages, which is to be expected, but there’s nothing from my LA club.

  “Where was security?” I snap.

  “Not by another client. By a staff member.”

  Christ.

  The room is too small. I yank open the door and take the stairs to the top and step into the bright daylight. I feel in my pocket for my sunglasses and find only the reading glasses Rae got me.

  I stare at them a moment before setting them carefully on a nearby table. “I was just in LA last week dealing with this. We cleaned house. Agreed on new policies.”

  “With the number of clubs you have, there are bound to be problems. But this is shitty timing. She hasn’t spoken to the media yet. But there’s a possible lawsuit and obviously the PR issue if this gets out.”

  My mind races. “Is the woman hurt?”

  “She’s fine. But it would really help all of your venues to have the good press right now.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “You’re spending a lot of time with the same DJ who accused you this spring. If she went on the record saying she’s seen what you’re doing and supports you, that could go a long way.”

  The sounds of laughter from below us draw me to the railing around the anchored boat. I squint into the shadows to see Rae, Ash, and the others playing in the water twenty feet away. Her black bathing suit shows off every curve of her body. Curves I could be touching, or at least experiencing up close, if I wasn’t up here.

  Rae had something on her mind this morning when we arrived. I wish I could get her alone and force the tru
th out of her.

  I drag my attention back to the call and grip the phone tighter. “She’s already playing my club.”

  “And no one has made the link publicly. Yet.”

  “It’s not happening, Leni.”

  “Because you have feelings for her?”

  I exhale heavily.

  “DJs would kill to play a club in Ibiza for a month,” she points out. “You’ve given her an opportunity—one she can use to not only get back to where she was but take her career to the next level. If she has feelings for you too, maybe you could help each other.”

  “Is this guy for real?” Ash demands from the row ahead of us in the theater room, nodding toward Beck.

  Tyler and Annie are huddled together at the front. Elle’s in the second row, along with my brother and Beck. We’re here to watch Beck’s screening copy of the pilot for his new reality show.

  I waited for Rae to head into the back row, then I gave her zero outs as I shifted in after her.

  From the moment we started watching, half my attention was on the antics of the guy on screen and the rest was on the woman beside me.

  “How was Formentera?” I ask under my breath.

  “Fun. But you missed it.”

  I extend my legs in front of us. “Business came up.”

  I feel her turn toward me. “Why do all this if you weren’t going to participate?”

  “Because you deserve it.”

  She turns that over. Her black shorts and sleeveless top leave her long, curvy limbs on display. Her hair, swept up in two piles on top of her head, makes my fingers itch.

  “No one deserves to rent a forty-five-meter boat,” she decides.

  My lips twitch. “Charter.”

  I think about Leni’s suggestion that we could use Rae to get good press. To show the world Echo Entertainment is moving in the right direction. A month ago, she wouldn’t have considered it. But now…

  “Look!” Beck calls, leaning over the front row of seats. “Remember the releases you signed for this clip from your wedding party in LA? We used the footage.”

  Annie and Rae are in the background, and as the video captures Beck’s speech, Rae stiffens next to me.