“Of course not,” Vincent agreed smoothly. “I meant no offense. I merely wish to ensure all our guests have the most satisfying experience possible.” He turned back to his computer. “I can process your extension now, if you'd like. And I can check Theo's schedule to see when he's next available.”
“Please,” I said, working to keep my voice even.
Vincent typed for a few moments, then looked up with a placid smile. “Your villa is now reserved for an additional week. As for Theo, would you like me to book him for you on his next available day?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
More typing, then a nod. “Done. Is there anything else I can assist you with today, Your Grace?”
I stood, a strange mixture of triumph and unease swirling within me. “No, that will be all. Thank you for your assistance.”
“It's our pleasure to serve,” Vincent replied, rising as well. He hesitated, then added, “If I may offer one piece of advice, Your Grace?”
I nodded, curious despite myself.
“Whatever you're seeking here, be it pleasure, connection, escape—I hope you find it.” His expression softened. “Just remember that what we create here, the connections, the intensity, exists in a carefully designed environment. The real world tends to be... less accommodating of such arrangements.”
The words struck uncomfortably close to the doubts I'd been trying to ignore. “I appreciate your concern,” I said stiffly. “But I assure you, I'm quite capable of managing my own affairs.”
Vincent inclined his head respectfully. “Of course, Your Grace. I hope the remainder of your stay is... enlightening.”
Something in his tone gave me pause, a kind of knowing quality that suggested he saw more than I was comfortable with. But I merely nodded, turning to leave with as much dignity as I could muster.
As I walked back toward my villa, I couldn't shake the memory of Theo's eyes when he looked at me, the vulnerability in them that seemed too raw, too genuine to be feigned. Or the way his body responded to mine, each touch, each kiss a confession neither of us was brave enough to voice aloud.
Was it possible that what was happening between us was real? That despite the transactional beginning, despite the vast differences in our worlds, despite all logical arguments to the contrary, we had found something authentic in each other's arms?
I didn't know. But I had bought myself another week to find out.
And for now, that would have to be enough.
Chapter 12
Theo
Sleeping Beauty—
We're at the pool. Join us when you emerge from your coma. Bring swimwear.
—K & C
I couldn't help but grin at the message. Kaiden and Carter might be seasoned companions, but they treated me like I actually belonged in their crew. They barely even teased me about last night, though I caught that look they exchanged when I stumbled in with a stupid grin, fresh from being walked to my door by an actual freaking prince charming.
But he was leaving tomorrow. Off to some tiny European country with its fancy mountains, lakes, and probably a palace or two. Back to being a duke, while I was here, scrambling to keep it together.Not that I’d ever want to go to his world, anyway.
Not that I was invited. Not that I was even considering it.
Ugh.
Instead, I'd spent the morning daydreaming about a man who probably had a different personal chef for each day of the week while my brother was stuck in a rehab facility eating institutional food with plastic spoons. The guilt twisted in my stomach like I'd swallowed something sharp.
The worst part wasn't even falling for someone completely out of my league. It was how Ricard had somehow hijacked my brain so completely that I'd barely thought about Casey in days. What kind of shitty brother was I? The whole reason I was here—selling my body, getting my ass spanked by European royalty—was supposed to be for Casey. Only Casey.
Instead I was getting emotionally tangled up with a client like some rookie mistake from day one orientation. Ibrahim would be so disappointed. Hell,Iwas disappointed in me.
The staff pool was right across the property from the glitz and glam of the guest areas, giving us privacy when we needed it. The laughter and splashing hit me right as I rounded the corner of the building, the chlorine smell doing its best to mask the savory, grilled meat aroma wafting from somewhere nearby.
Someone had dragged a portable speaker out, and it was blasting what sounded like Dua Lipa mixed with splashing and the occasional shout of laughter. A couple of plastic coolers sat in the shade, sweating almost as much as I was, promising cold relief inside.
