by Ruby Vincent
I know plenty about them, but not why they’re here.
“Enlighten me.”
Sighing, Zion leaned back in his seat. “Nathan’s a cool guy, but he got everything the hard way. He lost his dad in a sailing accident when he was ten and then his grandmother a few years later to cancer. Both left him sizable inheritances that will set him, his children, his grandchildren, and his great-grandchildren’s grandchildren up for the rest of their lives. But not yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s years before he sees a cent of that money,” Zion explained. “But Nathan is still... Nathan. He can drop a girl’s panties with a wink, and more than a few of them are happy to take him on as an investment that will pay off tenfold in the future.”
“Lovely.” I shook my head. “Next name on the list. Carter. Does he want a wife?”
“No one knows what that guy wants. He blew through hookups at the academy, refusing to get serious with anyone. He’s got three older brothers who work with their dad and he’ll take his place after college. But he doesn’t have to. No one is hanging their hopes or the future of the company on him. He can do whatever he wants. If anyone is here by choice, it’s Carter, but again, I don’t believe he’s looking to get engaged. Plenty of girls want to marry him, though.”
I held the question in for as long as I could, but with her as name number four, I might as well ask. “What’s the deal with Delilah? Why are she and Preston a sure thing?”
“I said the Desais had the second-largest real estate company,” he replied. “The Winthrops have the largest. Between the two of them, they’ll own the entire country. It’s a massive merger that is sealed with their I dos.”
“So Preston was never going to be with anyone but her.” The knowledge didn’t sting. On the contrary, it killed the niggling doubt and confirmed nothing about the other night was real. “Thank you, Zion. You’re a wealth of information.”
Bending over, I dug into my pack and pulled out a pen. “This will be quicker if you mark a star next to the guys on the hunt for an heiress.” I eyed him. “Please tell me you’re not one of them.”
He snorted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against meeting someone and flinging it up in one of the chillest places I’ve ever been to.”
The man didn’t lie. The world unfolding outside of my window was gorgeous. Dancing coconut trees, miles of untouched beach, and more sunshine than a Bracknell girl could stand. Under normal circumstances, I’d love to spend my summer here.
I nudged his shoulder. “Why do I feel a but coming on?”
“But you’re not my type.”
“What? Opinionated?”
“Violent.”
A laugh ripped out, startling and amusing me. “Because of that little scuffle with Ivy? Afraid you’d be in for a lifetime of being dropped on your ass whenever I’m pissed off?”
“Yes.”
“You’re perceptive as well as informative, Zion Mitchell.”
We cracked up.
“Friends?” he asked, sticking out his hand.
“Friends.”
I would not for any reason use the word enjoyable, but I would say the rest of our scenic route to the villa wasn’t complete misery.
Zion marked off all the guys on the hunt for an heiress—any heiress. Dad was clear that I had to choose a husband among those who proposed to me, and I’ll make sure Charlie, Dillon, Jax, Andres, and the rest of them didn’t get that idea into their heads for a second.
That done, we turned our attention to Hendrix, our tour guide.
“—acres of orange groves. On a hot day, it’s the perfect place for a picnic,” he said. “Everything you see around you is Desai land. You can roam to your heart’s content.”
One of the girls up front raised her hand. “Will we have time for that? The schedule we were given is packed. Are all of these events mandatory?”
“Mandatory is a strong word. There aren’t penalties if you miss activities, but these are designed to help you get to know each other better and aid in the decision most of you will make at the end of this summer. Tonight’s mixer for example is an opportunity to get reacquainted with old faces and meet the new. After the mixer, your time is yours.
“Everyone at the cove is over eighteen. You don’t have curfews or such things. Spend your free time how you will.”
The bus was abuzz following that announcement. Lives stuffed into uniforms, pinchy shoes, and bow ties to be paraded through academies and formal events, did not prepare us to hear “your time is yours.”
Ivy’s hand shot in the air. “Will you separate those who are serious about this summer from the guys just looking to get some? It’s not fair to us to wade through jokers spouting whatever we want to hear to get in our pants.”
“I agree with you,” said Hendrix, “but we can’t shield you from insincerity here any more than we can off the island. You’ll have to weigh a potential partner’s suitability on your own. That said, if it does become clear someone is lying and deceiving to gain sex or other favors, they will be asked to leave and will not receive another invitation to the cove.”
I peeked at the folder sticking out of my bag. Zion marked half the guys he knew for sure were looking for a relationship out of this. Who knew what the other half wanted.
The questions and answers kept up for the rest of the weaving drive past the groves and sand. Two hours in, the shuttle crested and a sprawling mansion laid out before us. Stones the color of the sand surrounding us stacked on top of each other to form three floors of windows, balconies, blue shutters, and sloping roofs.
The villa was magnificent.
And I seriously wondered if reducing it to a pile of rubble would get me out of this early.
It’ll work as well as burning the info packet. Mrs. Desai will unearth another one and keep on trucking.
“You’re the first to arrive, everyone,” Hendrix called. “You’ll find your stuff has already been taken to your room and put away. We’ve got nothing on the docket until the mixer tonight, so grab something to eat, explore the villa, get settled, or you could sneak in some beach time. If you need anything, my number is in your packet.”
Our group got up, filing off the bus.
“Want to hit the beach?” Zion asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve been up since five a.m. I’m finding my room and hitting the sheets running.”
“All right.” We climbed off the bus, parting ways on the ground. “See you tonight.”
“Later.”
Hendrix set on the path toward the house. I trailed him at a slower pace.
Flowers lined the walkway, lending color to the long stretch of green lawn. In the driveway, two cars and half a dozen golf carts gleamed in the sun. Transport for the rest of us to get around. Mrs. Desai truly thought of everything.
Hendrix paused to hold the door open for me. I thanked him as I stepped into the island paradise. Light, weathered tile led out from the entry, around columns, and under arched ceilings. Bamboo ceiling fans lazily turned the air, lending to the relaxed vibe induced by the white couches, blue pillows, and warm brown furniture.
A glance in my packet told me my room was on the second floor. I waved bye to Hendrix, spotting the staircase on the other side of the room. My phone buzzed on my way up.
I fished it out, glanced at the screen, and froze.
Unknown number shone back at me. Two seemingly innocent words on their own.
Maybe it’s Preston, my mind supplied. He could’ve gotten my number from his mom and wants to spout more trash about there being an explanation for why he forgot to mention his fiancée when he was asking me out and offering up his body.
My finger hovered over the phone.
If you really believe it’s Preston, why are you hesitating?
I tapped open.
555-8735: Where are you?
That was it. Three simple words and my heart leaped out of my throat and made a run for it.
Me: W
ho is this?
One minute.
Two.
Three.
Five minutes passed with no reply.
I picked up my feet to keep going when my cell went off, startling me into dropping it. Clutching my chest, I bent to grab it and flashing up from the carpeted step was the unknown number.
I didn’t hesitate. I ended the call and blocked them, silencing whoever was on the other end.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow, and kept walking.
Mrs. Desai was kind enough to number the rooms. A bright, shiny twelve hung over my door. I pushed in, dreaming of the warm sheets that awaited me.
“Belle.”
“Holy fuck!” My bag and poor phone crashed to the floor.
The guy swung his legs off the bed, pushing off. I goggled at Preston, eyes huge and heart racing, as he used my surprise to draw me the rest of the way in and shut the door.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. The bastard sounded like he was holding in a laugh. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”
I shrugged him off. “I’m going to bet you had plenty of choices other than lying in wait like a serial killer!”
He chuckled. “You’re not in danger from me, Belle. If you ask me”—he pointed to his bandaged nose—“it’s the other way around.”
“Get out, Preston.” I snatched my things up and threw them on my bed. He could never know what I truly thought walking in here and finding someone waiting for me, but I held him responsible for that heart-stopping spike of terror. “We have nothing else to say to each other.”
“We haven’t said anything to each other,” he shot back. “You won’t listen to me.”
“I’ve had a lifetime of lies, Desai. Go pour them into another girl’s ear.”
“I didn’t lie to you about a single thing.”
“Want to tell that to your imaginary cousin?”
“I do have a cousin.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket. “Look.”
“Not interested.”
I sidestepped him, making for the door on the opposite side. All of a sudden, I was spun and sent shrieking onto the bed. Preston climbed on top of me, pinning me down.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
“You’ve got to be the most difficult, stubborn person I’ve ever met.” Preston secured my flailing arms with one hand and held the other before my face. My vision cleared on the photo. “This is my cousin, Darren Desai. Want to tell me you don’t see the resemblance?”
Two boys filled the screen. One smaller, smiling, and stuffed in a bow tie and suspenders. An older boy leaned against a tree next to him, glaring at something—or nothing—off-camera and dressed in simple jeans and a nice shirt. There was no doubt the younger boy was Preston. Just as there was no doubt he was related to the other kid. They had the same hair, nose, and heart-shaped face.
“He could be anybody,” I tried.
“You know who he is.” Preston rolled off me. “I didn’t lie to you, Belle.”
I twisted the other way, putting some distance between me and the unpredictable ambusher. “Then why did your fiancée say the guy didn’t exist.”
“Because she’s the one I lied to.”
I quieted—my retorts dying on my lips.
Preston took my silence as a cue to go on. “Everything I told you about him was true. The guy was a budding psychopath and he started early. Guys like that who can’t play well with others, get themselves in trouble eventually.
“Eventually came when Darren was thirteen. He got mouthy with a nanny and she spanked him. The twisted brat got his revenge by copying me.” Preston looked away. “But instead of ground peanuts in her food, it was pills. She overdosed on codeine, slipped into a coma, and almost died. Darren’s been locked away in a private facility ever since.”
Holding my knees to my chest, I leaned against my headboard, considering him. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth now?”
“We can drive to Shadow Grove for a visit, but he hasn’t gotten more pleasant with age.” Preston moved up and joined me. I let him. “I met Delilah after he went away. We don’t talk about Darren, Belle. He’s not so much as a secret as... a shame. We can’t help him. Make him anything other than what he is. Why talk about the family member we had to throw away?”
“You shouldn’t see it like that.” Despite myself, I was getting sucked in. “His parents did what they had to do to protect him and others. Sometimes your best has to be good enough.”
Preston placed his hand over mine. I shook him off.
“Slow down, Desai. You may not have lied about the cousin, but I’m still tempted to kick your ass for the fiancée and pretending you didn’t know who I was.”
“I didn’t know. What happened between you, Nathan, and Carter that you’d think they’d challenge me to sleep with you?”
I gave him a look. “What makes you think you deserve answers? You lied about Delilah!”
“You’re going to make me repeat myself all damn day, aren’t you?” The bold schmuck took my hand anyway, bringing it to his lips. He punctuated each word with a kiss on my knuckles. “Delilah. Is. Not. My. Fiancée.”
“Does she know that?”
Preston dropped his head on my shoulder and my hand on his lap. “Yes.”
“You’re making yourself comfortable,” I gritted.
“Yep. You’ll be forgiving me in five— maybe eight minutes, so why not settle in for an afternoon of make-up sex?”
“You’ve got some kind of balls.”
“You’d know. They were slapping against your ass three days ago.”
“Get out.”
Preston rolled over, trapping me underneath him again. “I’ll be honest, I’m supposed to propose to Delilah at the end of the summer. That’s the plan. It’s been the plan for the last six years.”
I shoved against his shoulders. The guy was immovable.
“But since when does ‘supposed to’ make someone your fiancée? I haven’t proposed to her yet, so again, I didn’t lie to you.”
“You want to pull out the she’s-just-my-girlfriend card?” I flung. “Seriously?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. We aren’t dating. We aren’t in an open relationship. What you and I did the other night was in no conceivable way cheating.”
“She looked pretty pissed for someone who wasn’t cheated on.” I bucked and got a kiss on the collarbone for my trouble.
This guy is unbelievable.
Steaming, I flopped on the sheets. Memories of the last time he had me in this position scrambled my brain something fierce. I would either throw him down and rip off his clothes, or knee him in the balls. There were no other options.
“You can’t imagine someone believing you belong to them, even if it’s not true?” Preston asked.
Swallowing hard, I broke our gaze. “Yes,” I whispered. “I can imagine that.”
“Everything is fixed up with me and Delilah. Our entire life planned out. It’s an arrangement she’s happy with.”
“What about you?” Genuine curiosity laced my voice. “Are you happy with this arrangement? Do you want to marry her, Preston?”
“I never asked myself that question”—his finger traced my bottom lip—“until three nights ago.”
We were quiet for a long time.
“If you want something else,” I began, “tell her. Don’t let her spend the summer thinking she’ll have you by the end of it.”
“It’s not that simple, Belle.”
“Why?”
“I— It’s just—” He tossed his head. “I can’t get into it. If I could tell you, trust me, I would. All you need to know is we won’t be cheating on her.”
“Won’t be?” I repeated. “Have you convinced yourself that we’re doing this again? Because I can tell you right now. We won’t.” I bucked again. “Let me up or your balls will be bandaged next.”
“Are you for real? You don’t believe me?”
Pr
eston let me up. I grabbed his collar, hauling us both off the bed.
“Do I believe you have a cousin? Yes, I do. Do I buy that you and Delilah are only in it for the ring? I’m on an island where everyone is, so it’s not too far-fetched.” I shoved him at the door. “But do I believe you didn’t know who I was? Not a chance, Desai. Nathan and I were together for two summers and Carter and I even longer than that. Think I’m dumb enough to swallow that they didn’t mention the name Belle Adler to you once? Nope.”
I threw open the door and tossed him out. “I hope you enjoyed your one-time pass into the club. All future privileges have been revoked.”
Preston dusted himself off. His grin teased out a dimple. “I was right. You are going to make me work for it. That’s fine,” he said, walking backward out of the hall. “I’m up for the challenge, Cinderella.”
“Keep walking that crazy ass on.”
He laughed. “Amending my projections of make-up sex from eight minutes to eight days. Count ’em down.”
“If I find you in my room again, I’ll break more than your nose!”
Preston blew me a kiss.
“Ugh!”
My door slam rattled the entire villa.
“HOW’S IT GOING, DARLING? Do you like your room?”
I glanced around the spacious suite. King-size bed, sunken living space, television, plush couch, and a balcony that overlooked the ocean. I could complain about a lot of things, but not the accommodations.
“It’s cozy, Cecilia.”
“Please, Belle. Don’t call me Cecilia.”
Her pain nearly cracked my resolve, and then I met my half made-up reflection in the mirror and remembered I was getting ready for a marriage mixer on an island where I was basically being held captive.
“I will happily call you Mom as soon as my real mother reinhabits your body.”
A gusty sigh crackled over the line. “One day you’ll understand that everything we do is because we love you.”
“I don’t want to hear that anymore.” I snapped the lid too hard on my mascara. “That’s not why I called anyway. I got a message from an unknown number today. They asked me where I was.”
“What?” Her tone sharpened. “Did you respond?”