King of Sloth Forced Proximity Romance PDF

For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  King of Sloth For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  KINGS OF SIN BOOK FOUR For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  ANA HUANG For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ Copyright © 2024 by Ana Huang All rights r...

For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  King of Sloth For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  KINGS OF SIN BOOK FOUR For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  ANA HUANG For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ Copyright © 2024 by Ana Huang All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review and certain other noncommercial use permitted by copyright law. Resemblance to actual persons and things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. KING OF SLOTH: Editor: Becca Hensley Mysoor at the Fairy Plotmother, Amy Briggs Proofreader: Britt Tayler Cover Designer: Cat Imb, TRC Designs For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ To every woman who’s ever been told to “smile more.” Fuck that. Do what you want. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Contents Playlist Synopsis Content Notes 1. Sloane 2. Xavier 3. Sloane 4. Sloane 5. Xavier 6. Sloane 7. Xavier 8. Sloane 9. Xavier 10. Sloane 11. Sloane 12. Xavier 13. Sloane 14. Sloane 15. Xavier 16. Sloane 17. Xavier 18. Sloane 19. Xavier 20. Sloane 21. Sloane 22. Xavier 23. Sloane 24. Sloane 25. Xavier 26. Xavier 27. Sloane 28. Sloane 29. Xavier 30. Sloane 31. Xavier 32. Sloane 33. Sloane For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ 34. Xavier 35. Xavier 36. Sloane 37. Xavier 38. Xavier 39. Sloane 40. Xavier 41. Xavier 42. Sloane 43. Sloane 44. Xavier 45. Xavier 46. Xavier Epilogue Acknowledgments Books by Ana Huang Keep in touch with Ana Huang About the Author For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Midnight Rain”—Taylor Swift “Sex, Drugs, Etc.”—Beach Weather “Top of the World”—Pussycat Dolls “The Lazy Song”—Bruno Mars “Flawless”—Beyonce “Most Girls”—P!nk “Talking Body—Tove Lo “Rude Boy”—Rihanna “I Wanna Be Yours”—Arctic Monkeys “Te Amo”—Rihanna For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ He'd never wanted anyone enough to chase them...until he met her. Charming, easygoing, and rich beyond belief, Xavier Castillo has the world at his fingertips. He also has no interest in taking over his family’s empire (much to his father’s chagrin), but that hasn’t stopped women from throwing themselves at him…unless the woman in question is his publicist. Nothing brings him more joy than riling her up, but when a tragedy forces them closer than ever, he must grapple with the uncertainty of his future— and the realization that the only person immune to his charms is the only one he truly wants. Cool, intelligent, and ambitious, Sloane Kensington is a high-powered publicist who’s used to dealing with difficult clients. However, none infuriate—or tempt—her more than a certain billionaire heir, with his stupid dimples and laid-back attitude. She may be forced to work with him, but she’ll never fall for him…no matter how fast he makes her heart beat or how thoughtful he is beneath his party persona. He’s her client, and that’s all he’ll ever be. Right? For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Content Notes This story contains explicit sexual content, profanity, and topics that may be sensitive to some readers. For a detailed list, click here or scan the code below. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 1 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Sloane B reaking into a ten-thousand-dollar-a-night Greek villa hadn’t been in my plans for the day, but plans changed and people adapted, especially when they had clients who insisted on making their life as difficult as possible. My knees scraped against concrete as I hauled myself onto the terrace ledge and over the railing. If I ruined my brand-new Stella Alonso dress over this, I’d kill him, bring him back to clean up the mess, then kill him again. Luckily for him, I landed on the terrace without incident and slipped back into the heels I’d tossed over earlier. The heavy drum of my heartbeats followed me to the sliding glass door, where I tapped the master key I’d “borrowed” from one of the maids against the card reader. I would’ve gone through the front door, but it was too exposed. The back terrace was the only way. The card reader whirred, and for a single terrifying second, I thought it wouldn’t open. Then the reader flashed green, and I allowed myself a breath of relief before I set my jaw again. Breaking in was the easy part. Getting him to another country by sunset was another. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I made a quick detour to the kitchen, then crossed the living room to the primary suite. I winced when I saw the empty beer bottles littering the kitchen counter, and it took every ounce of willpower not to toss them in the recycling bin, sterilize the marble, and spray the room with air freshener. Stay focused. My professional and personal reputations were on the line. The villa was cool and quiet despite the early-afternoon sun splashing through the windows, and the bedroom was cooler and quieter still. Perhaps that was why, when I walked to the bed and unceremoniously dumped a large bowl of ice-cold water over its slumbering occupant, the speed of his response startled a rare gasp out of me. A strong hand shot out and grasped my wrist. The empty bowl clattered to the ground, and the room tilted as he yanked me down, rolled over, and pinned me against the bed before the gasp fully left my mouth. Xavier Castillo stared down at me, his handsome face etched with a scowl. The only son of Colombia’s wealthiest man (and my least cooperative client) was usually laid-back to a fault, but there was nothing laid-back about the way his forearm pressed against my throat or the one hundred eighty pounds of solid muscle trapping me beneath him. His scowl relaxed as anger gave way to recognition and a touch of horror. “Sloane?” “That is my name.” I lifted my chin, trying not to focus on how warm he was compared to the damp mattress against my back. “Now, if you could release me immediately, it would be appreciated. I’m ruining a seven- hundred-dollar dress.” “Mierda.” He spit out the curse and relaxed his hold on my neck so I could get up. “What the hell are you doing here?” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “My job.” I pushed him off me and stood. Was it just me, or was it exponentially colder now than it’d been five minutes ago? “It’s the twelfth. You know where you’re supposed to be, and it’s not here.” I glared at him, daring him to argue. “I thought you were an intruder. I could’ve hurt you.” Now that we’d established I wasn’t here to rob or kidnap him, a familiar grin replaced his frown. Xavier retook his spot on the bed, the picture of insouciance. “Technically, you are an intruder, but a very beautiful one. If you wanted to join me in bed, you only had to say so. No need to go to all this trouble.” He arched an eyebrow at the bowl on the floor. “How’d you get in anyway?” “I stole a master key, and don’t try to distract me.” After three years of working with Xavier, I was used to his tricks. “It’s one in the afternoon. Your jet is waiting for us at the airport. If we leave in the next half hour, we’ll make it to London in time to get ready before tonight’s gala.” “Great plan.” Xavier stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Except for one problem—I’m not going.” My nails dug into my palms before I caught myself. Breathe. Remember, murdering a client is considered unprofessional. “You will get out of bed,” I said, my voice chilly enough to freeze the droplets of water lingering on his skin. “You will board that jet, attend the gala with a smile, and stay for the entirety of the event like a good representative of the Castillo family because if you don’t, I will make it my personal mission to ensure you never have another second of peace. I will crash every party you attend, warn off any woman stupid enough to fall into your orbit, and blacklist any of your friends who enable your worst impulses from my events. I can make your life a living hell, so don’t make an enemy out of me.” Xavier yawned again. This had been our dynamic since Xavier’s father hired me three years ago, right before Xavier moved from Los Angeles to New York, but I was For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ done going easy on him. “So, you’re my new publicist.” Xavier kicked back in his chair and propped his feet on my desk. White teeth flashed against tanned skin, and his eyes sparkled with a slyness that made me bristle. Ten seconds after meeting my most lucrative client, and I already hated him. “Remove your feet from my desk and sit like a proper adult.” I didn’t care that Alberto Castillo was paying me triple my usual fee to look after his son. No one disrespected me in my own office. “Otherwise, you can leave and explain to your father why you got dropped by your publicist on the very first day. I imagine that’ll have a negative impact on your cash flow.” “Ah, you’re one of those.” He acquiesced, but his smile hardened at the mention of his father. “Uptight rule follower. Got it. You should’ve introduced yourself that way instead of with your name.” My favorite pen cracked from the force of my grip. I wasn’t a superstitious person, but even I could tell that didn’t bode well for the future of our relationship. I’d been right. I let him slide when it came to certain things because the Castillos were my biggest contract, but my job was to keep his family’s reputation pristine, not kiss the heir’s ass. Xavier was a grown man. It was time he acted like it. “That’s quite a threat,” he drawled. “Every party and woman? You must really like me.” He slunk out of bed with the lazy grace of a panther awakening from slumber. A pair of gray sweatpants rode low on his hips, revealing golden- brown skin and a V cut one wouldn’t expect from someone who spent the majority of his days partying and sleeping. Inky tattoos swirled up his bare chest and shoulders and down his arms in intricate patterns. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  If it were anyone else, I would’ve admired the raw masculine beauty on display, but this was Xavier Castillo. The day I admired anything except his commitment to non-commitment was the day I could somehow physically cry again. “Don’t worry, Luna,” he said, catching my scrutiny with a small grin. “I won’t tell your other clients I’m your favorite.” Sometimes he called me by my actual name. Other times he called me Luna. It wasn’t my nickname, middle name, or any name close to Sloane, but he refused to tell me why and I’d given up on getting him to stop or explain long ago. “Be serious for once,” I said. “The event is honoring your father.” “Even more reason not to go. It’s not like my old man will be there to accept the award.” Xavier’s smile didn’t budge, but his eyes flickered with a spark of danger. “He’s dying, remember?” The words crashed between us and sucked all the oxygen out of the room as we stared at each other, his unflappable calm a rock against my mounting frustration. The Castillos’ father-son relationship was notoriously thorny, but Alberto Castillo hired me to manage their reputation, not their personal issues—that was, until what happened behind closed doors spilled into the public eye. “People already think you’re a good-for-nothing trust fund brat for shirking your responsibilities after your father was diagnosed.” I didn’t mince words. “If you miss an event honoring him as Philanthropist of the Year, the media will eat you alive.” “They already do, and honor?” Xavier raised his eyebrows. “The man writes a check for a couple million every year, and he not only gets a tax write-off but also fawning praise for being a philanthropist. You and I both know the award doesn’t mean shit. Anyone with deep enough pockets can get it. Besides…” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ “Mykonos is way more fun than another stuffy gala. You should stay. The ocean air will be good for you.” Dammit, I recognized that tone. It was his “you can put a gun to my head and I still won’t cave because it’ll piss you off” tone. I’d heard it more times than I cared to count. I did a quick mental calculation. I hadn’t gotten to where I was in my career by fighting losing battles. I needed to be in London tonight, and our window for a timely departure was rapidly shrinking. Missing my rendezvous was not an option, but if Xavier stayed in Greece, my job required me to stay as well and look after him. Since I didn’t have the time to guilt, threaten, or persuade him into doing what I wanted like I usually did, I was left with one last resort. A bargain. I crossed my arms, mirroring his stance. “Let’s hear it.” His brows arched higher. “Your condition,” I said. “The one thing you want in exchange for attending the awards ceremony. Anything involving sex, drugs, or illegal activities is off the table. Other than that, I’m willing to bargain.” His eyes narrowed. He hadn’t expected me to give in so easily, and if I didn’t need to be in London by eight p.m., I wouldn’t have. But I couldn’t miss my date, so a deal with the devil it was. “Fine.” Xavier’s cheeks dimpled with his signature smile, though a shadow of suspicion remained on his face. “Since you’re so forthcoming, I will be too. I want a vacation.” “You’re already on vacation.” “Not me. You.” He pushed off the wall, his steps languid yet deliberate as he crossed the room and stopped mere inches from me. “I’ll attend the gala if you promise to join me on vacation after. Three weeks in Spain. No work, just play.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  The request soared from so far out of left field I gave myself whiplash trying to follow it. “You want me to take three weeks off work?” “Yes.” “You’re out of your mind.” I’d taken a total of two vacation days since I started Kensington PR, my boutique public relations firm, six years ago. The first was for my grandmother’s funeral. The second was when I was hospitalized with pneumonia (chasing paparazzi in the dead of winter would do that to you). Even then, I’d kept up with emails on my phone. I was work. Work was me. The thought of abandoning it for even a minute made my stomach cramp. “That’s the deal.” Xavier shrugged. “Take it or leave it.” “Forget it. It’s not happening.” “Fine.” He turned toward the bed again. “In that case, I’m going back to sleep. Feel free to stay or fly home. It doesn’t matter to me.” My teeth clenched. That bastard. He knew I wouldn’t fly home and leave him here to sow chaos in my absence. With my luck, he’d throw a public orgy on the beach tonight just to set tongues wagging and drive home the fact he wasn’t at the gala when he should be. I glanced at the clock on the wall. We needed to leave in the next fifteen minutes if we were to make it to the gala in time. If it weren’t for my eight o’clock date in London, I might have called Xavier’s bluff, but… Dammit. “I can do two days,” I said, relenting. One weekend wouldn’t kill me, right? “Two weeks.” “One week.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Deal.” His dimples blinded me again, and I realized I’d been tricked. He’d deliberately started with a higher offer to barter me down to his original plan. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets, and when he held out his hand, I had no choice but to shake on the time frame I’d proposed. That was the worst part about Xavier. He was smart, but he applied it to all the wrong things. “Don’t look at me like I killed your pet fish,” he drawled. “I’m taking you on vacation. It’ll be fun. Trust me.” His smile widened at my icy stare. One week in Spain with one of my least favorite people on the planet. What could possibly go wrong? For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 2 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Xavier N othing brightened my day more than riling Sloane up. She was so predictable in her responses and so spectacular in her anger, and I loved seeing her ice-queen façade melt long enough to reveal a glimpse of the real person underneath. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, I added it to the mental drawer where I collected all things Sloane. “Ah, you’re one of those.” I flicked a gaze over my new publicist’s tight bun and tailored dress. “Uptight rule follower. Got it. You should’ve introduced yourself that way instead of with your name.” The glare she bestowed on me could’ve leveled an entire city block. Objectively, Sloane was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met. Blue eyes, long legs, symmetrical face…Michelangelo himself couldn’t have sculpted a better female form. Too bad none of that came with a sense of humor. She said something sharp in response, but I’d already tuned her out. Fuck my father for forcing me into this stupid arrangement. If it weren’t for my inheritance, I’d tell him to piss off. Publicists were glorified babysitters, and I didn’t want or need a babysitter. Besides, as pleasing to the eye as she was, I could already tell Sloane was going to be a major buzzkill. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  That’d been our first meeting. My initial animosity toward her had run out of oxygen since then, leaving…hell, I didn’t know. Curiosity. Attraction. Frustration. Much more complicated emotions than hostility, unfortunately. I didn’t know when the switch flipped, but I wished I could go back and unflip it. I’d much rather hate her than be intrigued by her. “Stand up straight,” Sloane said without taking her eyes off the man beelining toward us. “You’re at a black-tie event, not the beach. Try to pretend you want to be here.” “There’s alcohol, food, and a gorgeous woman by my side. Of course I want to be here,” I drawled, telling the truth in the first part and lying my ass off in the second. My gaze skimmed over her quickly enough to escape her notice, yet long enough to imprint the image in my mind. On anyone else, her simple black gown would’ve been boring, but Sloane could wear a grocery bag and still blow everyone else out of the water. The silk skimmed her lean frame, highlighting her flawless skin and smooth, bare shoulders. She’d swept her hair into a fancier version of its usual bun, and other than a pair of small diamond-drop earrings, she wore no accessories and barely any makeup. She’d obviously dressed with the intention of blending in, but she could no more blend into a crowd than a jewel could blend into mud. I’ll be honest—I hadn’t expected her to accept my deal. I’d hoped she would, but she was married to her job and the gala wasn’t that important. It was a run-of-the-mill event honoring my father, not the Legacy Ball or a royal wedding. The fact she would give up a week of precious work time in exchange for my attendance here? It reeked of fishiness, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I’d been dying to get Sloane away from the office for a while. She was wound so tight she was bound to explode, and I didn’t want to be there when it happened. She needed a release. Plus, the trip was the perfect opportunity to corrupt her—get her to let her hair down (literally and figuratively), loosen up, have some fun. I would pay to see her lounging on the beach like a normal person instead of making people cry on the phone. Sloane Kensington needed a vacation more than anyone else I knew, and I needed— “Xavier!” Eduardo finally reached us. My father’s best friend and interim CEO of the Castillo Group clapped a hand on my shoulder, interrupting my thoughts before they strayed down a dangerous path. “I didn’t expect to see you here, mijo.” “Me neither,” I said dryly. “Good to see you, tío.” He wasn’t my biological uncle, but he might as well have been. He and my father had been friends since childhood, and he’d been one of his most trusted advisors before my father fell ill. Eduardo was currently running the ship until the board made a final decision on whether to wait for my father to get better or find a new permanent CEO. Eduardo turned to Sloane and gave her a customary Colombian cheek kiss. “Sloane, you look lovely,” he said. “I assume I have you to thank for this one showing up. I know how hard it is to wrangle him, eh? When he was a kid, we called him pequeño toro. Stubborn as a little bull.” Her earlier ire melted into a professional smile. “It’s my job. I’m happy to do it.” She was as good a liar as I was. The three of us chatted for a bit until another guest pulled Eduardo away. He was accepting the Philanthropist of the Year award on behalf of my father since I’d refused to do it, but everyone seemed eager to talk business instead of charity with him. Typical. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I caught Sloane checking her watch again as we wound our way toward our table. “That’s the dozenth time you’ve looked at your watch since we arrived,” I said. “If you’re that eager to leave, we can skip the boring ceremony and get hammered at the bar.” “I don’t get hammered, and if you must know, I’m meeting someone in an hour. I trust you can behave yourself after I leave.” Despite her cool tone, visible tension lined her jaw and shoulders. “Meeting someone this late in London?” We settled in our seats just as the emcee took the stage and applause filled the room.“Don’t tell me you have a hot date.” “Whether I do or don’t is none of your business.” She picked up the calligraphed menu card and scanned it for walnuts, no doubt. Sloane had a strange vendetta against them (and it wasn’t an allergy; I’d checked). “I’m surprised you find time to date.” The emcee began his welcome speech. Reason told me to drop the issue, but I couldn’t. There was something about Sloane that always made reason fly out the window. “Who’s the lucky guy?” “Xavier.” She dropped the menu and looked at me. “Now’s not the time. We don’t want a repeat of the Cannes fiasco.” I rolled my eyes. Get caught dozing off once during a major awards speech and I was suddenly the bad guy. If these types of events weren’t so damn boring, maybe I’d have an easier time staying awake. People didn’t know entertainment these days. Who wanted stuffy elevator music and the same boring drinks they served at every gala? No one. If I cared enough, I’d give the organizers a few pointers, but I didn’t. The servers brought out the food, which I ignored in favor of more champagne as the ceremony trudged on. I tuned it out and ruminated on what type of guy Sloane might be seeing. In all our years working together, I’d never seen her with or heard her mention a date, but obviously, she had to have been with someone. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  She was prickly as hell, but she was also beautiful, smart, and accomplished. Even now, there were multiple men sneaking peeks at her from surrounding tables. I downed my drink and glared at one of them until he looked away, his face red. Sloane was my date in name only, but it was bad form for other people to ogle her when she’d come with me. Did no one observe proper etiquette anymore? The room erupted into its loudest round of applause. Eduardo stood, and I realized the emcee had just announced my father as the organization’s Philanthropist of the Year. “Clap,” Sloane said without looking at me. A tight smile affixed her face. “The cameras are watching.” “When aren’t they watching?” I clapped half-heartedly for Eduardo and Eduardo only. “It’s my honor to accept this award on Alberto’s behalf tonight,” he said. “As you know, he’s been my friend and business partner for more years than I can count…” Sloane glanced at her watch and gathered her belongings when Eduardo wrapped up his thankfully short speech. I straightened. “You’re leaving already?” It’d only been fifty minutes, not an hour. “In case there’s traffic. I trust you’ll behave in my absence.” She emphasized her last sentence with a warning stare. “The minute you leave, I’m throwing my drink in another guest’s face and hijacking the music system,” I said. “Sure you don’t want to stay?” She didn’t look amused. “Do that, and our deal is off,” she said flatly. “I’ll check in at the end of the night.” She slipped discreetly out of her chair and toward the exit. I was so focused on watching her leave, I didn’t notice Eduardo’s approach until he For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ placed a hand on my shoulder. “Do you have time to talk? There’s something we need to discuss.” “Sure.” With Sloane gone, I’d do anything to get out of sitting here with the most boring tablemates in existence. I followed Eduardo into the hall. Now that the ceremony was over, the guests had resumed their drinking and mingling, and no one paid us much mind. “I was going to call and tell you, but in person is better.” Free from the watchful eyes of photographers, Eduardo’s mouth settled into a grim line that had my pulse quickening. “Xavier…” “Let me guess. It’s my father.” “No. Yes. Well…” Eduardo wiped a hand over his face, uncharacteristically hesitant. “His condition is stable. There’s been no change.” A twist of either relief or disappointment loosened the knot in my chest. How fucked up was it that I had mixed feelings over what should’ve been good news? “That means he’s not getting worse, but he’s also not getting better,” Eduardo said. “You haven’t visited him in months. You should see him. It might help. The doctors say having loved ones around—” “The key phrase is loved ones. Since my mom isn’t around, I guess he’s fucked.” The only person my father had ever truly cared about was my mother. “He’s your father.” My honorary uncle’s mouth thinned. “Deja de ser tan terco. Haz las paces antes de que sea demasiado tarde.” Stop being so stubborn. Make amends before it’s too late. “I’m not the one who needs to make amends,” I said. There were only so many times a guy could try before he gave up, and I’d reached my limit years ago. “Anyway, good talk, but I have somewhere else to be.” “Xavi—” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Safe travels home.” I turned. “Say hi to everyone else for me.” “It’s your family’s company,” Eduardo called after me. He sounded resigned. He’d only taken the interim CEO position because I’d turned it down, and I knew he clung to the hope that I’d magically “come to my senses” about continuing the family legacy one day. “You can’t run from it forever.” I didn’t break my stride. With the ceremony done, the gala was basically over, which meant I wouldn’t be breaking my deal with Sloane if I left. The reminder of her and where she was right now—probably on some date with some asshole—darkened my already-thunderous mood. I usually tried to look on the bright side, but fuck it, sometimes a guy had to wallow. I grabbed my jacket from coat check and climbed into one of the black cabs waiting outside the event space. “Neon,” I said, naming the city’s hottest new nightclub. “I’ll tip you a hundred pounds if you can get me there in under fifteen minutes.” The cab pulled away from the curb. I stared out the window at the passing lights of London, eager for the moment I could drink away any thoughts of Eduardo, my father, and a certain publicist who occupied my waking moments far more than she should. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 3 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Sloane T he “red man” signal warning pedestrians not to cross the road stared me down. I ignored it and power walked across the street, tuning out the blaring car horn of an oncoming truck. I was already late, and if I didn’t take off my shoes soon, my bloodied feet would kill me faster than getting hit by a car. Four-inch stilettos looked great, but they weren’t made for ten blocks of city walking. Unfortunately, London traffic was a shitshow, so I’d ditched my cab after being stuck on the same street for twenty minutes. By the time I reached the hotel, my dress was stuck to my body with sweat and I could barely feel my feet, but I made it to the penthouse without incident (unless I counted the other guests’ horrified stares). Please don’t be asleep. I knocked on the door, my heart in my throat. Please don’t be asleep. Please don’t be— My breath exhaled in a puff of relief when a familiar round face answered the door. “There you are.” Rhea ushered me in, her eyes darting toward the entrance like George and Caroline would walk in at any minute. She put her job in jeopardy every time she texted me, but we both took our risks for the same reason. “I was afraid you couldn’t make it.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “I got held up by traffic, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I took off my shoes and sighed. Much better. With Rhea’s help, I quickly cleaned my bloody feet before walking into the suite’s living room. My heart clenched when I saw her sitting on the floor, watching a kids’ cartoon about ballerinas. She always gravitated toward shows about dance or sports. Her back faced me, but she must have had a sixth sense because she turned the instant I entered the room. “Sloane!” Penny scrambled to her feet and ran toward me. “You came.” “Of course I came.” I bent down to hug her. God, she’d grown so much since the last time I saw her. She buried her face in my stomach, and if I could cry, I would’ve at how tightly she clung to me. Besides Rhea, I was probably her first hug of the day. Her nanny left the room, giving us time alone, and I eventually, reluctantly released her so I could fish her gift out of my bag. “Happy birthday, Pen. This is for you.” My half sister’s eyes lit up. She took the gift and unwrapped it, taking great care not to rip the silver-striped paper. She was Penelope to her parents and Penny to everyone else, but she’d always be Pen to me. The sister I never knew I needed, the only one who’d cried when I left, and the only Kensington I still considered family after my grandmother died. She finished unwrapping the gift, and her delighted gasp brought a smile to my face. “The new American Sports doll!” She clutched the precious item to her chest. “How did you get this?” “I know people. Your older sister is pretty cool, you know,” I teased. The limited-edition doll was one of the most sought-after toys in the world. There were only two dozen in existence, but my friend Vivian’s For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ husband pulled some strings and got me one in time for Pen’s birthday. She couldn’t play with it openly, but one of the upsides to her parents’ neglect was that they wouldn’t notice or question how she’d gotten the toy. “So, how does nine feel?” I sat next to her on the floor. “You’re almost in the double digits.” “Gross. Soon I’ll be old like you—ah!” Pen erupted into hysterical giggles when I tickled her side. “Stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She gasped. “You’re not that old.” “That’s what you get for insulting me,” I quipped, but I stopped tickling her, mindful not to overexert her. I always trod a line between treating her like a normal kid while knowing she wasn’t, at least not in terms of physical stamina. Two years ago, Pen was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome, or CFS, after an unusually lengthy bout of mono. Characterized by extreme fatigue, sleep issues, and joint and muscle pain, among other things, CFS had no cure or approved treatment. It was difficult to determine the cause, though her doctors suspected it was triggered by a change in the way her immune system responded to illness, and the best we could do was manage the symptoms. Despite having no FDA-approved treatments, CFS had spawned a thousand and one snake oil salesmen who promised a “cure” via special vitamins, antiretrovirals, and other “miracle” medications. Pen’s parents had flushed a ton of money down the drain trying to find something that worked. Nothing ever did, so eventually, they gave up and simply shoved her at home where they didn’t have to think about her. Luckily, Pen had mild CFS, so she could carry out everyday activities better than those with more severe cases, but she couldn’t play sports like she wanted or attend school like her peers. On bad days, it was difficult for her to walk. She was currently homeschooled, and Rhea stayed with her pretty much twenty-four seven in case she crashed. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “I made something for you.” Pen sounded out of breath, but my concern ebbed when she walked to the coffee table and returned without missing a beat. A knot formed in my throat. It was a good day; she deserved a good day on her birthday. “It’s a friendship bracelet.” She placed the jewelry carefully in my palm. “I have a matching one. See?” The beaded bracelet simply had five hearts. Hers were pink; mine were blue. The pressure from the knot wound its way up behind my nose and ears. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Pen.” I slid the bracelet onto my wrist. “But you should receive gifts on your birthday, not give them.” Especially not when making the jewelry probably cost her hours’ worth of energy. “I don’t get to see you on your birthday,” she said in a small voice. I hated that she was right. We only saw each other a few times a year when Rhea could sneak me in. My family was spiteful enough that they’d lock her in a vault before they’d willingly let me visit, and I was proud enough never to apologize for something I wasn’t at fault for. I’d thought about it, but I couldn’t do it. Not even for Pen. “Well, we’re together now,” I said, pushing thoughts of the past aside. “What do you want to do? We can watch a movie, play with your new doll…” “I want to watch the Blackcastle versus Holchester game.” Pen looked at me with big doe eyes. “Please?” I wasn’t a sports person, but she loved soccer, so I acquiesced to a taped replay. The game made headlines earlier this year because it’d been the first time Asher Donovan, the darling of the Premier League and the newest transfer to Blackcastle, had played against his old team. Besides Xavier, Asher was my most difficult client, but he was also Pen’s hero. She’d nearly ruptured my eardrum when he signed with my firm a few years ago. Speaking of Xavier… For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  While Pen curled against my side and watched the match with rapt attention, I quickly checked my phone for any new gossip items. I ignored a text from an old hookup asking to meet up again—the man could not take a hint—and scanned the news. I had alerts for all my clients, but there were only two names that made my blood pressure rise whenever they popped up onscreen. One of their initials: XC. Nothing. Good. He was behaving. I swore Rhea had an easier time taking care of Pen than I did keeping Xavier in line. Pen and I didn’t talk throughout the game, but we didn’t need to. Even though we didn’t see each other often, the best part of our reunions was being comfortable together. Sometimes that meant talking nonstop; other times it meant watching a movie in content silence. She shifted half an hour in, and when I looked down, my pulse spiked with worry. Pale face, glazed eyes—she was about to crash. “I’m okay,” she said when I called for Rhea. The older woman rushed into the room, her face wreathed with concern. “Stay.” Pen clutched my sleeve with her little hand. “I never get to see you.” Despite her words, her voice faded into a whisper toward the end. The night had taken its toll, and it was a testament to her fatigue that she didn’t argue again when I kissed her goodbye on the forehead. “We’ll see each other again soon,” I said fiercely. “I promise.” I wished we had more time together, but Pen’s health came before anything else. Rhea and I took her into the bedroom, where she instantly crashed. I hoped she slept through the night. Otherwise, tomorrow would be rough. I smoothed back her hair, my throat clogged with emotion. Another visit finished too soon. Our time together never lasted as long as I would’ve liked, but at least I saw her. It was the best I could’ve asked for given our circumstances. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “It’s good she got to see you for a bit tonight,” Rhea said after we returned to the living room. “Mr. and Mrs. Kensington didn’t spend a lot of time with her before they went out.” Of course they hadn’t. My father and stepmother considered Pen’s condition an embarrassment and kept her away from the public as much as possible. “Thank you for letting me know about tonight,” I said. Rhea had called last week and told me they would be in London. George and Caroline had dinner and show reservations tonight, which gave me a large enough window to see Pen. “I appreciate—” “…absolutely terrible.” A familiar voice outside the door stopped us in our tracks and made my stomach plunge. “Honestly, George, I’ve never had a more abysmal lobster.” Rhea and I stared at each other, her huge eyes mirroring mine. “They’re not supposed to be back for another two hours.” Her mouth trembled. “If they see you…” We’d be done for. Rhea loved Pen like a mother. If she were fired, they would both be devastated, and if I couldn’t see Pen anymore… Do something. CEOs and celebrities paid me exorbitant amounts of money to guide them through rough patches, but a strange disassociation rooted my feet to the floor. It was like I was watching an actor play me in the hotel room while the real me spiraled down a tunnel of unwanted memories. Dating you is like dating a block of ice…I don’t know if you even like me… Can you blame him for what he did? If you actually cared that much, you’d cry or show some emotion. Don’t embarrass us, Sloane. If you walk out that door, there’s no coming back. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Pressure pushed against the backs of my eyes, desperate for a way out. As always, it found none. A key whirred against the suite’s card reader. Move! a voice inside my head screamed. Are you stupid? You’re going to get caught. The soft click of the door unlocking finally snapped me out of my trance and into crisis-management mode. I didn’t think. I simply grabbed my bloodied heels from the entryway, scanned the living room for any traces I might’ve left behind and, satisfied there were none, ducked behind the floor-to-ceiling drapes. The door opened, revealing a glimpse of gray hair before I fully ensconced myself behind thick red velvet. My palms curled, slick with sweat. I hadn’t planned on running into my family today. I wasn’t mentally prepared for that, and though I wasn’t a particularly religious person, I prayed with everything I had that they were too tired to do anything except go straight to sleep. “We should’ve stuck with our regular spot.” Caroline’s clipped tone echoed in rhythm with her heels. “This is what happens when you give so- called rising stars a chance, George. They’re rarely up to par.” “You’re right.” My father’s deep, familiar voice rumbled through me like thunder on a Friday night when I was tucked in bed with a book and a flashlight. Equal parts comforting and ominous, it chipped at the wall I’d erected long ago until a sliver of nostalgia escaped. It’d been years since I heard his voice in person. “Next time, we’ll go to the club,” he said. “Rhea, order room service for us. We barely ate anything at the restaurant.” “Yes, sir.” “And why are the drapes open?” Caroline’s voice grew louder. “You know they must be closed immediately at sunset. Lord knows who could be For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ looking in right now.” No one because you’re on the twelfth floor and not facing any other buildings. My snarky mental reply didn’t prevent the taste of copper from filling my mouth when my stepmother’s footsteps stopped in front of me. I stood frozen, staring at the swath of velvet that was the only thing separating me from disaster. Don’t look behind the drapes. Don’t look behind— She grasped the curtains with one hand. I pressed my back against the window, but she was centimeters from my face and I had nowhere else to go. Thud. Thud. THUD. The ominous drum of my heartbeat intensified with each passing second. I was already devising multiple plans and backup plans for what I would say, what I would do, and who I would hire to help if Caroline found me and shipped Pen off to some remote location where I couldn’t see her. Caroline’s hand tightened around the drapes. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought the jig was up. Then she dragged the curtains closed, hiding me completely, and resumed her complaints about that night’s dinner. “Honestly, I don’t know how Vogue could’ve named him one of the best new chefs of the year…” The sound of her heels faded along with my father’s murmured response and the click of a door closing. Neither one asked about Pen or acknowledged Rhea again. My body sagged, light with relief, but when Rhea pulled back the drapes, I didn’t waste time loitering. George and Caroline could come back out any minute. I squeezed Rhea’s hand in a silent goodbye and escaped out the front door. She smiled, her eyes worried, and I didn’t breathe properly until I hit the sidewalk outside the hotel. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  The shock of unexpectedly being in the same room as my father again disoriented me for a few minutes, but the cool October air poured over me like an ice shower, and by the time I reached the corner, the buzz had vanished from my ears and the streetlights no longer blurred into an orange stream. I’m fine. This is fine. I hadn’t been caught, I’d spent time with Pen on her birthday, and now I could— My phone buzzed with a news alert. I glanced at it, my stomach plummeting the minute I saw Perry Wilson’s distinctive blog logo. I clicked into the article, and a crimson haze wiped away any lingering unease over my narrow escape from the hotel. You’ve got to be kidding me. Two hours. I left him alone for two hours and he still couldn’t follow simple instructions. I shoved my phone into my bag and hailed a passing cab. “Neon.” I slammed the door shut, causing the driver to wince. “I’ll give you your biggest tip of the month if you get me there in ten minutes.” Every second counted when I had a client to strangle. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 4 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Sloane T he society papers called them The Modern Jet Set. The trashier gossip columns derided them as Heirs and Spares—the children of the rich who squandered their days drinking and partying instead of doing anything useful with their lives. I simply called them Xavier and Friends (derogatory). Eight minutes after I left Pen’s hotel, I strong-armed my way into Neon, where Xavier and Friends had taken over the VIP room. The scene was almost a replica of the photos splashed across Perry Wilson’s latest blog post. One of Xavier’s friends was snorting cocaine off a bottle girl’s stomach, another was giving someone a lap dance, and a half dressed couple was basically having sex in the corner. Lounging amidst the hedonism like a king surveying his court was Xavier, one arm tossed over the back of a velvet banquette while the other held a bottle of tequila. Xavier, who was supposed to be at the awards gala happening this very second. Xavier, who desperately needed more of an image cleanup than usual after Perry Wilson’s hit piece about his birthday party gone wild in Miami a few months ago. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Xavier, who’d promised me he wouldn’t step foot in a nightclub until we fixed said image. I barely felt the pain in my feet as I stalked toward the banquette and stopped directly in front of him, blocking his view of the crowd. The women fluttering around him must’ve picked up on my intent to kill because they scattered faster than falling leaves on a gusty day. Xavier took a long swig of tequila before addressing me. “First Mykonos, now this.” A slow smile spread across his face. “You stalking me, Luna?” “If I were, you make it easy.” I held up my phone, which displayed a lurid photo of Xavier tossing back a shot while a pretty blond straddled his lap. Castillo heir ditches gala honoring his dying father! “No clubs until we fix your image, and you were supposed to stay for the entirety of the gala. That was our deal.” “No, our deal was that I stay for the entire ceremony, which I did. The ceremony and the gala are not the same. As for the club thing…” A casual shrug. “Maybe you should’ve put it in writing.” I grabbed the bottle from his hand. What I really wanted was to grab him and shake him, but I was mindful of the cameras “secretly” trained on us. People were less discreet than they thought they were. “Get up,” I said through gritted teeth. “We’re going back to the hotel.” Where I can knock some sense into you in peace. “How was your date?” Xavier ignored my order and flicked his gaze over my face, down my dress, and to my feet. A tiny pinch formed between his brows. “Fantastic.” I didn’t dispel his assumption of why I’d left the gala early. “Less fantastic was getting another Perry Wilson notification about you.” A strange glow of satisfaction settled in his eyes. “Did it interrupt your evening?” he asked silkily. “My bad.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I kept my expression neutral as I shifted my stance and carefully stepped on his foot with a razor-sharp stiletto. The table hid what I was doing from prying eyes, so from a distance, it looked like nothing was wrong. Xavier’s cockiness instantly disappeared beneath a grimace. “You have thirty seconds to get up, or you’ll lose not only a toe but a much more important part of your anatomy.” I cocked my head and tapped a finger against the tequila bottle. “Did you know there are online tutorials for everything? Including how to castrate a home invader with common household items.” To his credit, he didn’t flinch at the word castrate. “Let me guess. You’ve watched all of them, overachiever.” He slunk deeper in his seat and stared up at me with hooded nonchalance. “Relax, Luna. It’s Friday night. Take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun.” A muscle twitched beneath my eye. Do not take the bait. “I’m not here to have fun.” It came out as a near growl. “Obviously.” Xavier gave me another once-over. “It’s too bad you’re wasting a perfectly nice dress on such a boring end to the night. Speaking of which, how did your date feel about you leaving early?” “They felt it was in their best interest to do as I say.” I stepped harder on his foot, a smile flashing at his renewed grimace. “Since I’m having such a boring night, I’m tempted to spice things up. Of course, I can’t guarantee my idea of a fun time matches yours—especially when you’re surrounded by your friends, and the chances of embarrassment are high.” My smile disappeared. “Rest assured, I will drag you out of here like you’re an insolent child throwing a temper tantrum, and no, I do not care if I’m the one who has to clean up the mess afterward. It would be worth it for the shit you’ll get from your friends for the rest of your days. So unless you want that to happen, get the hell up.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Xavier listened to my tirade without a hint of concern. After I finished, he yawned, stretched his other arm over the back of the banquette, and cast a pointed glance at the heel impaling his five-thousand-dollar shoe. “Can’t get up unless you let me go, sweetheart.” I didn’t take my eyes off him as I released him, suspicious of his sudden obeisance. He unfolded himself from the banquette and stared down at me, a glint of amusement reentering his eyes. Even when I wore my Jimmy Choos, he towered over me by a good three inches. I hated it. “In my defense, I did fulfill my end of our deal,” he said. “Like I said, the ceremony and gala are two different things. The ceremony ended when Eduardo finished his speech, which also happened to be when you left. So don’t try to use it as an excuse to back out of our vacation.” “That’s semantics.” “Maybe,” he drawled. “But it’s also the truth.” “And what about your promise not to go clubbing until we fixed your image?” “My image was fixed. There hasn’t been a single bad story about me for weeks.” Xavier’s eyes gleamed with laughter. “You never specified your definition of a ‘fixed image,’ Luna. It’s not my fault if we have different ideas of what that means.” God, he was insufferable. Even more annoying was the fact he was right, but I would rather throw myself off Big Ben than admit it. “Just shut up and follow me,” I snapped, wishing I had a wittier reply. “Yes, ma’am.” His cheeks dimpled. “I love a woman in charge.” I ignored the sexual innuendo and turned on my heel. He followed me to the exit without saying goodbye to his friends. I didn’t know if he’d tired of arguing with me or if I’d genuinely scared him with the threat of embarrassment—I doubted it—but the reasons for his For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ about-face didn’t matter. The only things that mattered were if he listened to me and stayed out of trouble. “What’s the story behind the bracelet?” he asked on our way down the elevator. “Excuse me?” “The bracelet.” Xavier tipped his chin toward the friendship bracelet on my wrist. “You weren’t wearing that at the gala.” My muscles coiled. Only my best friends knew about my visits to Pen, and there was no way I was adding him to that trusted circle. “It was a gift.” I didn’t elaborate. “Hmm.” A shadow of knowing passed over his face. For someone who’d been drinking all night, he was shockingly observant. Luckily, he didn’t press the issue, and we walked the remaining distance to the main exit in silence. However, I should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last. “New terms,” he said when we climbed into the back seat of a cab. “You can’t be such a buzzkill when we’re on vacation.” “Then don’t take me with you.” I answered a work email about a potential new client without looking up. It was still business hours in New York. “Nice try. For someone who’s stalking me, you don’t seem to like my company much.” He placed a hand on his chest with a mock-wounded look. “It hurts my soul. Truly.” “What would hurt more is getting cut off.” Xavier was set to inherit billions of dollars if and when his father died. However, his current income came from an extravagant annual allowance that would immediately cease if he violated one of the two terms: 1) He must retain me as his publicist, and 2) He couldn’t do anything that damaged the family reputation. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  There was a three strikes policy for the second condition, and somehow, I was in charge of determining whether Xavier was in compliance. He’d raised holy hell when he first found out about it, but he’d settled into grudging acceptance since. I didn’t abuse my power. However, I was this close to adding a second strike to his record (the first had been his twenty-ninth birthday in Miami). “Maybe,” Xavier said, sounding unconcerned. “Regardless, you can’t do that on vacation.” He nodded at my phone. “What, check my emails?” “Exactly. A vacation isn’t a vacation if you’re working the entire time.” I scoffed. “If you think I’m spending an entire week without checking my emails, you’re more delusional than I thought. I run a business, Xavier, and if you want me in Spain, then you’ll agree to my terms.” “I see.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I never took you for a liar, Sloane. Our trip hasn’t even started, and you’re already going back on your word.” He might as well have slapped me in the face. “Excuse me?” I’d been called many things in my life, but I’d never once been called a liar. Sure, I might’ve bent the truth at times—which publicist worth their salt didn’t?—but when it came to promises, I kept mine. Always. That was one of the reasons I’d agreed to this stupid bargain with Xavier in the first place. I’d promised Pen I’d see her tonight, and the only way I could do that was by giving in to his demands. “No work, just play,” he said. “I distinctly remember that being one of the terms when you agreed to them. Checking emails is considered work, which means you’d be reneging on your promise.” Dammit, he was right. Again. I’d somehow blocked out that condition of our deal, if only because it was so absurd. I couldn’t ignore my messages for a week, but I couldn’t go back on my word, either. “I propose an amendment,” I said tightly. “I can check my personal emails at any time, and I can check my work ones if all I do is delegate For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ them to my team.” Xavier’s eyes narrowed. Several beats passed before his face relaxed into a smile again. “Amendment accepted. Now—” “Ahem.” The driver cut him off before he could finish his sentence. Apparently, he’d tired of our conversation “Where to?” he asked pointedly. Xavier and I answered at the same time. “Claridge’s.” “Stansted Airport.” “You promised me a vacation,” Xavier said when I stared at him. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.” “We literally arrived in London hours ago, and we don’t leave for Spain until tomorrow.” That much travel in one day made me want to die. “Check your watch. It’s five past midnight.” It was, indeed, five past midnight. I just kept taking losses tonight. Note to self: in the future, specify a departure time and not just a departure day. “My luggage is at my hotel. I need to get it,” I said, trying to stall. “Already taken care of.” He held up his phone. “I just messaged my hotel butler. Our luggage will be waiting for us on the jet when we arrive.” “It’s too late.” I grasped for another excuse to delay the trip. “It’s dangerous to fly at this time.” Xavier didn’t deign to acknowledge my ridiculous statement. Red-eye flights took off after midnight all the time. The cab driver twisted around to glare at us. “Claridge’s or Stansted?” he demanded. “I don’t have all night.” “Stansted. Sorry, my man.” Xavier shoved a handful of bills toward the front seat. “Appreciate it.” Mollified, the other man grabbed the cash and sped off. I guess I wasn’t the only one who bribed drivers when the occasion called for it. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Relax, Luna.” Xavier laughed as we wound through the near-empty streets at a breakneck pace. “You’re officially off the clock for the next week. Enjoy it.” I pressed my lips together. All I have to do is get through the week without slipping up. I wasn’t sure what “slipping up” would look like, but foreboding inched beneath my skin the closer we got to the airport. I didn’t know what would happen when I didn’t have the buffer of work to shield me, but if Xavier thought he could trick me into letting down my guard in Spain, he had another thing coming. Vacation or not, I was still me. I didn’t let people see past what I wanted them to see, and nothing would change that—not even a forced week off with my client nemesis. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 5 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Xavier S loane and I flew to Mallorca in silence. I could tell she was plotting my demise the entire time, but luckily, all sharp objects remained blood-free when we landed. By then, we were so tired she didn’t argue over sharing a villa with me, and I didn’t protest when she took the primary suite. I was simply happy to fall into bed and pass out. Despite my exhaustion, it was a fitful sleep plagued by replays of the same dream. I was crossing a bridge with Hershey, my pet chocolate Lab from childhood, but every time I made it halfway, the gaps between the planks widened. No matter how hard I tried to jump the distance or cling to the railing, we fell through the gap. I plunged into quicksand and watched helplessly as the surrounding river swept my beloved dog away. Hershey died years ago from old age, but that didn’t matter to Dream Me. The crushing anchor of failure weighed me down more than the quicksand. The fall happened over and over and over until I woke up, heart pounding and body drenched in sweat. Variations of the dream had haunted me for years. Sometimes, I was with Hershey. Other times, I was with my mother, an old friend, or an ex-girlfriend. Whoever it was, the result remained the For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ same. I was stuck watching them die. “Fuck this.” My harsh voice chased some of the ghosts away as I tossed my covers off. It was only eight. I usually didn’t get up until past ten, but I couldn’t stay in that bed any longer. I turned the shower as cold as it would go and washed away the remnants of the night. It was just a stupid dream. I wasn’t going to let it ruin my trip, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to dig deeper into what it meant. Ignorance was bliss. I scrubbed harder with the soap. By the time I toweled off and threw on a shirt and pants, I’d corralled my unease to the back corners of my mind where it belonged. I headed to the kitchen but stopped halfway when a flash of movement caught my eye. I came to a dead halt. Sloane was exercising on the back deck, wearing a tank top and yoga pants. Yoga pants. It might seem normal to see someone wearing workout clothes to work out, but this was Sloane. I’d known her for three years and I had never, not once, seen her in anything other than an evening dress or business wear. I was convinced she slept in those knife-sharp suits she favored so much. I walked closer, fascinated by the unnatural sight. Sloane switched from one impossible-looking yoga pose to another. Sunlight gilded her lithe form and turned her golden hair into a halo. She hadn’t noticed me yet, which meant her expression didn’t hold disdain, frustration, or general annoyance. It was…nice, but also a little alarming, like seeing a lioness stripped of her claws. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Her phone pinged with a new notification. My mouth twitched when she balanced herself so she could type out a reply with one hand before she resettled into her original position and closed her eyes. “Impressive.” I couldn’t resist commenting. I leaned against the doorframe and pushed a hand into the pocket of my sweatpants. “But you know the point of yoga is to relax, right?” Sloane’s eyes popped open again. Her head swiveled so she could glare at me. “How long have you been standing there?” she demanded. Ah, there’s that comforting irritation. Let’s see if we can notch it higher, shall we? “Long enough to see you answer your phone.” I tsked with disappointment. “It’s the first day, and you’re already breaking the rules. I expected more from you.” My smile inched wider when she unfolded herself, stood, and came to a stop inches from me. This close, I could see flecks of gray in her blue eyes and smell a trace of her perfume. It was clean and light, like fresh linen with a hint of jasmine. They were things I shouldn’t notice about a woman who tolerated me at best and despised me at worst. But I did, and once I noticed them, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. “They weren’t rules,” Sloane said. “They were mutually agreed conditions. Plus, it wasn’t a work text. It was personal.” “Let me guess. It was your date from the other night.” “You’re strangely obsessed with that date.” So it had been a date. I was unprepared for the little kick in my stomach, which I masked with a shrug. “Nothing strange about it. You’re notorious for turning down men.” “Lucky me. Maybe they’ll get the hint and leave me alone.” Sloane abandoned her yoga session and brushed past me into the living room. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I trailed after her. “So, your first vacation in years. What are your plans for the day?” I’d made a wild guess about the last time she took off work, but she didn’t correct me, which was damn sad. People could scold me for “not living up to my potential,” but at least I wasn’t chained to my inbox and the whims of others. “I haven’t decided yet. Perhaps I’ll finish my book.” Her eyes flicked around at our luxurious surroundings. The three-bedroom villa boasted an infinity pool, a Jacuzzi, and access to a private beach, but she seemed unimpressed by all of it. “The book you were reading on the plane?” I asked in disbelief. “25 Principles of Crisis Communications? That book?” Pink colored her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “It’s the latest edition.” “Jesus.” The CIA couldn’t torture me into reading that book, and she was doing it for fun. I’d assumed that once she arrived in Mallorca, the island would work its magic and she’d automatically loosen up. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. If I wanted to see a different side of her, I had to coax it out of her; otherwise, she’d spend the week buried in some boring nonfiction book and the entire trip would go to waste. The chances of me convincing Sloane to take off work again in the future were slim to none, which meant this was my one opportunity to drag her out of her comfort zone. I chose not to examine why doing that was so important to me. Sometimes, it was better not to ask questions I wouldn’t like the answers to. “Fuck that. You’re at the best resort in Mallorca. You need to take advantage of it.” An idea popped up in my head. “I have just the thing. Let’s go.” Sloane didn’t budge. “I’m not day drinking with you.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Not everything I do involves partying.” My grin made a wicked return. “You’ll love this. I promise.” “I do not love this.” The heat of Sloane’s glare rivaled the one-hundred- fifty-degree air billowing around us. “I do not love this at all.” “See, that’s exactly the type of frustration we’re working on today.” I leaned back and laced my hands behind my head. “It’ll be tough, but we will pull that stick out of your ass.” Sloane’s eyes narrowed, and I almost patted her down to ensure she hadn’t smuggled in a hair pin that she could fashion into a weapon. Since that would be rude, and I valued my life, I kept my hands to myself. After I convinced her to leave her ridiculous nonfiction book in the villa, I dragged her to the resort’s restaurant for breakfast followed by a trip to the spa. If anyone needed a good massage, it was her. Fortunately, the spa had one package available at the last minute. Unfortunately, it was a couples’ package, which was how Sloane and I ended up in a private igloo dry sauna together, kickstarting the first of many stops on our Signature Honeymoon Ritual. Sloane had put up a hell of a fight, but between my irresistible charm and the spa concierge’s firm but gentle insistence, she’d reluctantly caved. “Is this all you do with your days?” She glanced around the cedar- paneled room. “No. I also eat, sleep, and fuck.” My lips curved when she stiffened at the word fuck. “If you tried it some time, you might be less uptight. Newsflash, Luna, your headaches aren’t from your hair.” Even now, her For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ blond locks were slicked back in a bun tight enough to cut off circulation. “It’s from pent-up tension.” “Wrong. My headaches are from dealing with you.” She shifted, and I tried not to notice the way her towel slipped the tiniest bit—not enough to reveal anything scandalous, but enough to make my imagination run wild. “Besides, I’m plenty happy with my sex life, which is more than your bedmates can say, I’m sure.” Something dark and unidentifiable stirred behind my ribcage. Fucking breakfast. I should’ve known better than to eat the last piece of sausage at the buffet. I better not have food poisoning, or I was suing the resort. “They’ve never had complaints, but is that any way to speak to a client?” I drawled. “You’re not my client. Your family is. You’re merely the tradeoff for one of my most lucrative contracts.” “Ouch. Treat a girl to a luxury spa and get verbally attacked in return. Decorum doesn’t exist anymore.” Sloane rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there are plenty of women here who’d be happy to stroke your ego. Our server at breakfast, for example. I was afraid she’d fly away from how fast she was batting her eyes at you.” A smile stole across my face, erasing the surprise sting from her trade- off comment. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to who flirted with me.” “I’m your publicist. It’s my job to pay attention to everything about you.” My smile melted into something slower, more languid. “Everything, huh?” I’d meant it as a joke, but when her gaze touched mine, oxygen thinned in a way that had nothing to do with the heat. Sloane was beautiful. Fact. I’d been physically attracted to her since the moment we met. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Also fact. But it’d been a low-simmering attraction, the type I could brush off by focusing on something else. Recently, however, it’d ramped up to the point where there was nothing else. I didn’t know the reason for the change, but I knew that right now, as we sat in the sauna I’d stupidly insisted on going into, I looked at her and couldn’t breathe. Sloane swallowed. Beads of sweat trickled down her throat and disappeared into the shadow of her towel. She didn’t respond to my innuendo, and the silence hummed beneath my skin like tiny bolts of electricity. If I stood, it would take five steps to reach her. If I lifted my hand, it would take two seconds to touch her. If— “You never answered my question yesterday.” My abrupt statement severed the spell, but my pulse continued to pound and my hands instinctively curled around the edge of my seat. Fuck, this wasn’t what I’d had in mind when I’d dragged Sloane to Spain with me. I enjoyed flirting with her, but there was a difference between flirting and…whatever the hell happened in the past two minutes. She blinked, seemingly thrown off by the sudden change in atmosphere. “About what?” “Your bracelet.” She wore the same friendship bracelet from last night. Sloane was a Cartier girl; friendship bracelets weren’t exactly her vibe. “You left the gala without it and showed up at Neon with it. If it’s a gift from your mystery lover, you might have to upgrade. Find someone who can buy you real jewelry.” “It’s the thought that counts, not the carats.” “The only people who say that are people who can’t afford carats.” But even the stupidest guy wouldn’t gift someone like Sloane a piece of kid’s jewelry. Unless… “Who did you really go see?” I asked softly. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Sloane’s face darkened. I didn’t get a reply, nor had I expected one, but I could guess. There was only one topic that made her shut down: her family. Everyone knew about the Kensingtons’ estrangement. They were New York society staples, and barrels of ink had been spilled over the rift between investment tycoon George Kensington III and his eldest daughter. The cause of said rift had been a topic of speculation for years. Had she visited her family after the gala? If so, who’d gifted her that bracelet and why? Obviously, it had to be someone she cared about or she wouldn’t wear it, but from what I understood, her separation from her family had been ugly. She hadn’t talked to another Kensington in years. Sloane’s eyes stayed on mine, her emotions inscrutable beneath their wintry blue depths. It was as if she were physically restraining herself from looking away lest I mistook the move for weakness. Little did she know, there was nothing she could do that I’d mistake for weakness. She was one of the strongest people I knew, and only a fool would think otherwise. The minutes ticked by. The longer the silence stretched, the more I wanted to dig beneath her stoic façade until I reached the real her—the one with flaws and insecurities like everyone else, not the perfect CEO she projected to the world. Come on, Luna. Give me something. A shadow crossed her face, and just when I thought she’d provide some sort of answer, the heater shut off, indicating our time in the sauna was up. I blinked, ending our unwitting stare down. Sloane’s expression hardened again before she stood and walked to the exit. “Okay, good talk,” I said, following her. My voice sounded abnormally loud after the silence. “I learned a lot about you. Thanks.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “You’re the one who said this trip is supposed to be relaxing.” She twisted the door handle. “Being interrogated isn’t relaxing.” “Interrogated is a strong word,” I muttered. But fair enough. Honestly, I didn’t know why I cared so much about a stupid bracelet. So what if it had to do with her family? My own family dynamics were shitty enough without me worrying about someone else’s. “You can open the door anytime now,” I said when Sloane didn’t move. “I don’t want to miss a second of my massage.” She turned, and my stomach dropped at her tight expression. “I can’t,” she said. “The door is jammed. We’re stuck.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 6 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Sloane O n my list of worst ways to die, overheating half naked in a sauna with Xavier Castillo ranked somewhere between medieval torture and getting eaten alive by piranhas, which was why it was not going to happen. I tried the handle again. Still jammed. Dammit. “If we had our phones, we could call the front desk, but we don’t,” I muttered. That was why I brought my phone everywhere. I didn’t care about screen addiction; at least it could save my life if and when the occasion arose. “Sloane.” “There’s nothing heavy enough to break the door unless I push you through it.” Tempting. He sighed. “Sloane, there’s—” “We could hope someone finds us when the next appointment shows up, but who knows when that’ll be? The spa is fully booked, but that doesn’t mean—” “Sloane!” Xavier grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. “There’s an emergency button for these situations.” I followed his gaze to the wall. Sure enough, the button was right there, mounted on a piece of wood. How the hell had I missed that? Embarrassment scorched my cheeks. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I blamed the sauna. That much heat in a confined space couldn’t be healthy. I managed to retain a shred of dignity as I pressed the button, mostly by ignoring Xavier’s shit-eating grin. The staff came quickly after that, averting our potential demise. However, even though we weren’t in danger anymore, the possibility of dying next to Xavier—no matter how fleeting—did not bode well for the rest of the trip. “I think it’s a great start to the week,” he said as we walked to our couples massage. The spa concierge had been so apologetic about the sauna lock-in that she’d added an extra half hour to our treatment. “We survived death. It can only go uphill from here.” I pushed him into a nearby bush. It was pure pettiness on my part, but it felt good. If it weren’t for him, I would be sitting happily in my office in New York, putting out fires instead of “relaxing.” To my disgruntlement, Xavier didn’t fall; he merely stumbled into the hedge, and his laugh followed us into our massage room, where I made a point not to look at him as we disrobed. I’d already seen him half naked in the sauna, but it was hard to ignore the glimpses of tanned skin and sculpted muscle out of the corner of my eye. The fact he was built like a Greek god when he did nothing except lounge around and party proved there was no justice in the universe. We settled on our respective tables in silence. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him two feet away. His presence filled the room, unearthing memories from our short-lived but unnerving sauna adventure. There’d been a moment, just one, when I looked at Xavier and my heart skipped a beat. Who did you really go see? For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  There’d also been a moment, just one, when I almost answered truthfully. Maybe it was the lack of judgment in his face…or maybe the heat had melted my brain. That was far more likely. My lids drifted closed as our massage therapists reentered the room and worked out our knots, but I couldn’t shut off my brain. How many emails had piled up in my inbox in the past hour? I’d never gone this long without checking my phone. What if my office was on fire? That was the thing about working in a skyscraper. You were subject to the idiocy of other tenants, many of whom didn’t understand the basic tenets of fire safety. Speaking of idiocy, what if Asher Donovan crashed another car? Did Jillian remember to send Ayana our terms of engagement? Was Isabella feeding The Fish properly? Isabella wasn’t an idiot, but I had specific instructions for taking care of my pet goldfish, and she tended to get lost in her own world when she was in the middle of writing a book. Anxiety spurred my heart rate into an agitated gallop. “You’re very stressed,” my therapist said softly. Her hands worked magic on my back and shoulders, but the poor woman would need a full week to loosen all my knots. “I’m from New York,” I said as an explanation. Everyone was stressed. The only people who weren’t were the lazy— “That’s not an excuse.” Xavier’s interjection destroyed my cocoon of attempted bliss. “I’m from New York, and I don’t walk around with headaches every day.” I lifted my head to glare at him, but my therapist’s warning tsk forced me back down. “First of all, you’re not from New York. You’re from Bogotá. Second of all, you know nothing about my health. Third of all—” “Turn over, please,” my therapist said. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  I obeyed with more force than necessary. “Third of all, you’re not stressed because you don’t do anything. You just sit there, spend your family’s money, and look pretty.” It was harsh, but a trust fund kid lecturing me was my last straw. Yes, I’d also grown up with money and all the privileges that came with it, but I gave that up when I left my family. Everything I had now, I’d earned. Xavier never had to work for a single thing in his life. He had no right criticizing my choices, stress levels, or anything about me. “So,” he said, “you think I’m pretty.” “You—” “Breathe.” My massage therapist pressed down on my shoulders. “That’s it. Release the tension from your shoulders…” Her gentle tone slowly smoothed the edges of my irritation. I inhaled a deep breath and swallowed an acerbic reply. I prided myself on maintaining my composure at all times, but Xavier was the only person who could make me lose my cool. “Seriously, you have enough money to step back and let your staff take the reins,” he said. “Why kill yourself at your job?” Don’t take the bait. “I like my job.” For the most part. But between Xavier and Asher, who had a penchant for fast cars and reckless driving, I was pushing my friends’ therapy skills to the limit. I used to have a professional (non-massage) therapist, but she retired and I’ve hated every new one I tried after her. Maybe I should resume my search. God knew I needed one. “What do you like about it?” Xavier must’ve missed the memo that massages were meant to be silent. “Everything.” “Bullshit. You don’t like me.” His response was so frank and unexpected, I almost smiled. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Almost. “Fine. I like fixing things. Solving problems no one else can solve.” Crisis management was only part of my job, but it gave me the biggest thrill. Writing press releases and managing media relations was fine, but I could do those things in my sleep. “So you like to be needed.” I turned my head before my therapist could stop me. Xavier met my gaze with a knowing one of his own, and…there it was again. A little skip in my chest, followed by the unnerving sense that he could see right past the shields I’d painstakingly built over the years. Then I blinked, and the moment was gone. I faced forward again and waited for my heartbeat to normalize before I spoke. “Don’t you get bored of doing nothing?” I didn’t touch on the keenness of his observation or the truth behind it. I expected Xavier to brush off my question with his usual flippancy, but he answered with surprising honesty. “Sometimes,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically subdued. “But I’m good at doing nothing, so I stick to it. It’s better than fucking things up.” I closed my eyes, listening to the faint crash of waves outside the window and the deep, steady breaths of the man next to me. We didn’t talk again after that. Three hours, one facial, one lunch, and one extremely awkward aromatherapy soak for two later, I emerged from the spa marginally less stressed than when I walked in. I hated to admit it, but the day had helped. I even stopped worrying about my neglected inbox halfway through ignoring Xavier while we For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ floated in a lavender-scented tub together. Neither of us brought up anything substantial after our massage talk, but I kept thinking about what he’d said. I’m good at doing nothing, so I stick to it. It’s better than fucking things up. Xavier was unmotivated, but he wasn’t dumb. If he tried, he could probably run circles around the people sitting in the Castillo Group’s boardroom. Plus, he had an ample cushion of money and connections. Why would he be so afraid of screwing up that he didn’t try? I cast a sideways glance at him. He didn’t make any quips on our walk back to the villa, but my concern over his silence gave way to horror when we reached our home for the week. “What…?” My mouth parted as I stared at the sprawling building. When we left that morning, it’d been a peaceful oasis of pale stone and floor-to-ceiling windows. Now, it resembled a frat house. Spanish music blasted from deep within the interior, and the scent of booze overpowered the wildflowers surrounding the entrance. A pretty brunette in a bikini raced through the half-open door and shrieked as a Chris Hemsworth lookalike doused her in champagne. Squeals and laughter echoed from deeper in the villa, followed by the splash of someone jumping into the pool. “Xavi! There you are!” the Hemsworth lookalike called out. “Hope you don’t mind that we started the party without you.” I wheeled around and glared at Xavier. “I forgot to mention my friends are joining us.” He had the grace to look embarrassed. “One of them just broke up with his girlfriend. We’re trying to make him feel better.” Was he freaking kidding me? “He can feel better in his own villa. This is a shared space.” I pointed at the building and tried to breathe through the bubbling anger in my chest. “I For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ didn’t consent to having a bunch of strangers overrun my hotel room for the week. Shut. It. Down.” “I would, but my friends are, uh, difficult to dislodge once they’ve settled into a party.” Xavier shrugged. “It’d be a waste of energy. Trust me.” The knots my massage therapist spent ninety minutes kneading out returned with a vengeance. “Since they’re your friends, that sounds like a you problem.” A headache hammered at the sides of my skull. “I swear to God, Xavier, if they’re not out of here in the next fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police and having them arrested for trespassing.” “Don’t think that’ll fly. One of them is the president’s niece.” Xavier paused. “President of Spain,” he clarified. “Then the president can come here and bail her out.” I jabbed a finger at his chest, so pissed I could barely see straight. “This wasn’t what I agreed to when we made our deal. Figure out a way to fix this, or I’m leaving on the next flight out.” His insouciance fell away, replaced by what looked like true regret. “Shit, I’m sorry, Luna. I honestly forgot that…” He glanced at the villa. “Look, I’ll make you a new deal.” “No.” Xavier pressed on, undeterred. “Let them stay today. I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s impossible to move them after they get the party going. I already see two people passed out in the hall.” A quick peek confirmed his statement. “In return, I promise not to throw another party for the next month unless you’ve approved it.” “That’s not a good deal,” I said flatly. He must take me for a naïve newborn. “Two months.” “No.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Three months. Come on,” he coaxed. “Think of how much easier your job would be if you didn’t have to worry about me setting a bar on fire or getting shut down by the cops.” I pursed my lips. Xavier’s parties tended to spiral out of control. All the bad press he’d gotten in the past was linked to one of his infamous soirées; if I could prevent him from hosting them in the first place, that’d be a load off my plate. “No unapproved parties for six months,” I said, making up my mind. Giving up one afternoon was worth months of potential peace and quiet down the road—hopefully. “We’re putting it in writing, and your friends have to be out by midnight tonight.” “Six months? Are you fucking kid—” Xavier’s mouth snapped shut when I narrowed my eyes. “Fine,” he muttered. “You have a deal.” “Good.” I spun back around toward the villa and prayed I hadn’t just made a huge mistake. “I can’t believe you invited me on a heartbreak trip with your friends.” “Hey, a trip can serve multiple purposes. The more the merrier!” he called after me as I stormed inside. Prickles crawled over my skin at the cushions littering the floor and the half-empty alcohol bottles crowding every available surface. The knickknacks I’d reorganized to geometric perfection that morning had been knocked askew, and scantily clad men and women were… Oh God. I did not need to see that. I averted my eyes from the couple on the couch and zeroed in on a familiar face. “Luca?” Luca Russo blinked at me from the corner, his surprise mirroring my own. “Sloane? What are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same question.” Luca was my best friend Vivian’s brother-in-law. The second son of the massive Russo luxury goods fortune, he’d been a mainstay in Xavier’s For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ circle until he cleaned up his act a few years ago, stopped partying, and started working for his family’s company. Apparently, he’d fallen off the wagon again. “I’m here to mend my broken heart.” He slumped dramatically in his armchair. “Leaf and I broke up. She moved to a goat farm in Tennessee.” “Isn’t she vegan?” “She’s there to save the goats.” “Oh.” I didn’t know Luca or Leaf well enough to muster more than an inkling of sympathy. Besides, I’d never liked his ex-girlfriend’s holier-than- thou, New Age hippie vibes. “How tragic.” Now the poor goats had to put up with her savior complex. “S’okay. That’s why I’m here. To feel better.” He took a swig of beer. “Oh, hey, Xavi.” Xavier came up beside me. “I forgot you know each other.” There was a strange note in his voice, but when I glanced at him, he turned away. “Here.” He handed me an unopened bottle from a nearby table. “I have a feeling you’re going to need this.” I couldn’t do it anymore. After I rejected Xavier’s beer, made him a hastily drawn-up contract for our latest deal, locked myself in my room, read about the sixth principle of crisis communications, and confirmed with the resort and every other resort within a five-mile radius that there were no available rooms for the night, I gave up trying to pretend Xavier and Friends didn’t exist. I wanted to stay in my room, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Xavier said during our massage. So you like to be needed. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Who didn’t like to be needed? Being needed meant we were good at and good for something. People didn’t leave those they needed. It wasn’t the same as being loved, but it was better than nothing. There was a lot to unpack there, but since I had no desire to do that, I finally wandered outside and joined the party, if only so I didn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. The festivities had migrated from our living room to the private beach after sunset, and the bonfire made it easy for me to locate the heart of the party. Xavier’s eyebrows shot up when he saw me, but he didn’t stop me from downing my first, second, or third glass of sangria. If I were to survive the night around him and his friends, I needed to be (very) drunk. However, despite my presence, I held off on actually participating in the revelry until Luca spotted me and attempted to drag me from my seat by the bonfire. “You have to dance,” he insisted. “It’s one of the island’s rules.” I didn’t budge. “Rules are meant to be broken.” “I didn’t expect a cliché from you, of all people.” His cheeks were flushed from alcohol, and a sparkle brightened his eyes. Realization dawned. He was flirting with me. With his dark hair and olive skin, Luca was certainly good-looking enough, but I searched for any flicker of attraction and found none. Even if I were attracted to him, I had no interest in being a rebound hookup. “I like to surprise people every once in a while.” I glanced across the bonfire and caught Xavier’s eye. He was sandwiched between the brunette from earlier and her twin. He appeared uninterested in what they were saying, but when he saw me looking, his gaze flicked to Luca before he turned to face one of the twins. He’d left me alone since we arrived at the beach, which I was obviously grateful for. It wasn’t like I needed his company. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Still, you can’t sit on the sidelines for this song.” Luca’s voice brought my attention back to him. “It’s practically illegal.” The twins burst into laughter at something Xavier said. His dimples flashed, and one of them placed her hand on his arm. I suppressed an eye roll. I doubted anything he said was that funny. I tried to tune out the party around me and focus on the sound of the waves, but Luca continued pestering me until my headache reached new heights and I’d do anything, even freaking dance, to get him to stop. I should’ve stayed in my room. “Stop talking.” I held up a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. “If I dance for one song, will you go away?” Maybe that was a bit rude, but I was grumpy, annoyed, and not nearly drunk enough. I wasn’t in the mood to coddle anyone’s feelings. Luca appeared unfazed by my sharp response. “Sure.” “Fine.” I stood, my irritation escalating when the twins laughed again at something else Xavier said. You’d think he was a one-man Saturday Night Live show by the way they were carrying on. “But I need another drink first.” Luca and I swung by the beach bar for the resort’s signature cocktail, which was thankfully stronger than the sangria. However, my renewed buzz wasn’t enough to erase my self-consciousness when we hit the makeshift dance floor. I’d never been a great dancer. I took the requisite ballet lessons as a kid and stopped when Madame Olga dismissed me as one of her “most difficult” pupils. I tried ballroom dancing when I was older and didn’t fare much better. When I went out with my friends, I could lose myself in our group and not worry about how stupid I looked, but I didn’t have Vivian, Isabella, or Alessandra to shield me here. It was just me, the music, and a dozen pair of eyes that were inexplicably trained on me. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “Whoa.” Luca half laughed, half winced when I accidentally stepped on his foot. He steadied me with a hand on my hip. “Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten that drink earlier.” My cheeks heated. The song hadn’t finished, and I already regretted my decision. “It’s okay.” Despite his drunkenness, Luca picked up on my embarrassment. “Here.” He placed his other hand on my hip. “Let’s try—” “Don’t bother.” My spine stiffened at the familiar voice behind me. “You’re so drunk, you’ll be lucky if you don’t take both of you down.” An edge ran beneath Xavier’s otherwise affable tone. “Why don’t you sober up and come back?” Luca glanced at his friend, then at me. He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Good idea.” I crossed my arms and didn’t move while Xavier came around to face me. “Here I thought you were perfect at everything.” The edge was gone, replaced by a teasing lilt. “I need to give you dance lessons. Can’t have you making me look bad in front of my friends.” He’d changed out of his earlier outfit into a white linen shirt and casual pants. Here, in the glow of the firelight, with his hair tousled by the wind and his muscles loose from drink and relaxation, he was disturbingly, devastatingly attractive. Freed from the weight of sobriety, I could even admit that my dislike of him partly stemmed from envy. What was it like to live life so carefree every day? To not worry about being perceived by others or being good enough, successful enough, impactful enough to justify my existence? My throat dried before I shook off the unwanted thoughts. “Look bad?” I covered up the momentary lapse in my defenses with a defiant chin tilt. “I’m the one who apparently can’t dance, not you.” “We can change that. I’ve been told I’m an excellent instructor.” “Doubtful.” For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  “You always underestimate me.” “And you always provoke me.” He gave a casual shrug. “I like it when you get mad. Proves you’re not an ice queen after all.” My buzz disappeared fast enough for me to feel the punch of his words. If you weren’t such an ice queen all the time, maybe I wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere. She’s hot, but I bet she’s frigid in bed… For God’s sake, Sloane, smile. Why can’t you look happy for once? The pressure returned. A lump crawled into my throat, but as always, my eyes remained dry. No wonder people called me an ice queen. I couldn’t even show emotion properly. Xavier must’ve noticed the sudden shift in my mood because his smile vanished. “Hey, I wasn’t—” “I have to go.” I pushed past him, my chest tight. His hand touched my shoulder. “Sloane—” “Don’t touch me, and do not follow me.” I injected my trademark coldness into my words. “Enjoy the rest of the party.” I shrugged him off and didn’t stop walking until I’d locked myself in my bathroom and turned the shower on at full blast. I didn’t care that I’d already showered a few hours ago. I needed something to drown out the noise in my head. I pressed my forehead against the tile and closed my eyes. I stayed there until the lump in my throat dissolved, and as droplets of water cascaded down my face, I pretended they were tears. For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  CHAPTER 7 For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/  Xavier I didn’t sleep well for the second night in a row. Instead of the bridge dream, I was haunted by images of Sloane’s face before she left last night. What the hell had I said wrong? She usually took my comments in stride, and she never left a conversation when I had the upper hand. She couldn’t be that upset about a stupid bad-dancer joke, right? My foul mood worsened when I woke to an empty villa. Her luggage was still in her room, but she was a ghost from morning to early evening. I tried to put Sloane out of my mind and focus on Luca. He’d been pretty bummed since he and Leaf broke up, though my sympathy for him had dwindled when I saw him flirting with my fucking publicist at the beach. She wasn’t even his type. I brooded over my drink while my friends engaged in their usual shenanigans at the resort’s private beach club. I should be having the time of my life, but ennui had grabbed hold of me and refused to let go. I’d seen it all and done it all. After the initial rush of a good time, these parties were all the same. I could’ve given the club owner some tips on how to improve. The sound system wasn’t picking up the music’s underlying bass, and the girl- For More Books Visit https://gyannidhi.com/ to-guy ratio was off. The decor, the entertainment, the food…they were good, not great, but how people ran their business wasn’t my business, so I kept my mouth shut. Don’t you get bored of doing nothing? Sloane’s question echoed in my head. I pushed it aside, downed my drink and faced Luca, who lounged next to me by the pool, nursing a hangover and a beer. The sun had set, but the beach club was just getting into the swing of things. “Dante know you’re hanging out with us again?” Luca’s brother and CEO of the Russo Group, the multibillion-dollar luxury goods conglomerate, wasn’t a fan of anyone in our circle. Honestly, I didn’t blame him. If I’d had a younger brother, I wouldn’t want him hanging out with me either. “He’s not my warden.” Nevertheless, Luca glanced around like the intimidating older Russo was going to pop out from behind a potted plant. “I get vacation days like everyone else, and I can spend them however I like.” “Hmm.” “Speaking of which, where’s Sloane?” An unpleasant burn ignited in my chest. “Probably reading a boring nonfiction book somewhere. Why?” Luca shrugged. “She’s hot. She’s single. I could use a distraction from the Leaf situation.” The burn exploded in