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But the fact is that within eight short days, the brothers have taught me more about the world than I ever thought I could learn. Money management, sure, but also how kind and good people can be, and how being open can lead to deep and meaningful friendships.
Or even love.
I sit up suddenly in my chair, shocked by my errant thought.
Come on Michelle, don’t be a fool. You can’t love them.
I frown. But why not?
If one thing has been made abundantly clear over the past several days, it’s that the Costas brothers are kind, intelligent, and passionate men. They’re independent, but also fiercely loyal to one another. Each brother is an insanely successful businessman, and they use their fortunes for good.
After all, they’re both billionaires, and have been nothing but generous with different charities, their staff, and of course, me. I recently learned that they pay for college for all of their staff’s children.
Plus, they’re incredibly masculine too. Every night the brothers recount their various adventures, from swimming with sharks to cave diving to mountain climbing. And they’ve each got the scars to prove just how thrilling the experiences were.
But more than anything, neither brother has ever said an unkind word to me. In addition to treating me like a princess, they genuinely seem to like and respect me. On more than one occasion, they’ve asked my opinion about a world event, or what charities should be their beneficiaries this month.
So is this love?
It can’t be, right? I’ve always thought that a woman falls in love with one man, and vice versa. The crazy ménage scenarios I’d devoured in my romance novels were just that: fiction. But now, it seems that I’ve stumbled upon my own love triangle with two gorgeous brothers. But is there a future for us? Where does this path lead?
Before I can ponder the question much further, the familiar buzz of my phone interrupts me. I giggle and grab for it eagerly – often one or the other Costas brother calls me to check in throughout the day.
But then, my stomach drops at the sight of the name that pops up on the id screen.
Jensen Draper.
Oh shit. What does he want?11MichelleI stare at my phone screen for several moments, my heart pounding loudly in my chest, my breathing ragged.
I’d almost forgotten about him.
Almost, but not quite. Despite how much I detest Jensen Draper, I’m here now, sitting by the pool next to a multi-million dollar mansion in a cute bikini because of him.
I guess I should answer. My top lip curls involuntarily at the thought. I pull a silky kimono on and wrap it tightly around my body. Even though Jensen won’t be able to see me, the mere thought of talking to him while dressed so provocatively makes my skin crawl.
I answer. “Hello?” To my relief, my voice sounds steady, if slightly soft.
“Ah, Michelle, good morning.” Even over the phone, Jensen’s voice is oily and irksome.
“Mr. Draper,” I answer coldly, hoping my tone is just blasé enough.
“I’m calling to check in, see how things are going,” he hisses. “Are the clients happy?” As I hear Jensen’s voice, I can’t help but think about how badly his breath always smells.
Don’t vomit, don’t vomit, I repeat to myself. To Jensen, I merely answer, “It’s going fine. I appreciate your call.”
“Please, Miss Sutton,” Jensen’s sibilant tone is lizard-like. “More details. Are you to their liking? Are they treating you … ahem, like their pet?”
What the hell is wrong with this man? I shudder, suddenly feeling cold despite the heat coming from the sunshine overhead. Why would he say something like that? It’s almost derogatory, being called a “pet.” I manage to keep my voice calm.
“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” I tell the creepy man in a clipped voice.
“Oh, it is my business, missy.” There’s a distinct threat woven into Jensen’s tone now. “Remember: whatever the Costas brothers want, you do it. Kinky shit, drugs, whips and chains, whatever. You obey them, and you keep them happy. You owe me, and you’d better not forget it.”
Before I can respond, Jensen abruptly ends the call. I sit stock-still, staring dumbfounded at my phone and trying to wrap my mind around how nasty my former boss just was. What the fuck was that about?
“Miss?” I’m startled from my processing by the butler’s voice. “Are you quite well?”
I touch my flushed cheeks and realize that my face must be betraying my emotion. “Yes, I’m fine, just had an unexpected call is all.”
“Can I be of service in any way?” the kindly old man asks me.
I smile at him from across the pool and shake my head. “No, but thank you.”
“Very well. Your lunch is ready and being set up on the veranda as we speak.”
“Thank you.” I stand up, my legs shaking ever so slightly beneath me. I hate that Jensen can get to me like this, I think as I swallow the last of my daiquiri. I grab my phone and book and stroll to the veranda, hoping that lunch will help settle my stomach.
