“Liar,” he growls, inching his face closer to me. His thumb grazes my wrist, sending sparks down my spine. “You’re shaking for me to fuck you.”
I splash water in his face and push off his chest. “You are such a jerk! Stay the hell away from me.”
His eyes darken, hunger flashing before he masks it with rage. “From you? Gladly.”
He doesn’t follow as I haul myself out of the pool, water cascading from my dress onto the concrete. I feel his gaze on myback but refuse to turn. The wet fabric clings uncomfortably to my skin as I walk away, each step leaving puddles that mirror the mess I’m trying to escape.
Uncontrollable shivering, despite the heat, makes me wrap my arms around myself. It’s not just anger making me shake—it’s the realization that for a moment, I almost forgot why I was here in the first place.
I storm off with fury and fear still choking me, refusing to have another person tie me down. My unexplainable obedience to my parents is bad enough. I shouldn’t add the possibility of a good fuck to the list.
6
Noah
My shirt is soaked,an uncomfortable reminder of my screwup clinging to my skin as I walk away from the pool. Bea’s angry voice echoes in my head with her little insults meant to keep me at distance. But instead, it had the opposite effect. With her big, blue eyes and wet dress hugging her figure, I wanted to pull her closer and kiss that defiance off her.
But she pushed me away.
Thank god one of us still has a working brain.
I trudge back to my suite. The resort is oddly silent for this hour, and I usually prefer that. But not now. I don’t want to stay alone with this voice in my head telling me to go to Beatrice, apologize for everything, and promise to fix everything.
But she’s not mine. She belongs to my brother, at least for a year—the contract states that very clearly.
My phone buzzes with Martin’s name on the screen.
“No word from Ezra,”he says in a tight voice.“Ferries continue as normal, but I can’t find record of him ever boarding one.”
“So he’s officially missing?” I pull my shirt away from my skin.
“No contact. No trace. I guess we should call it. Interesting detail is that the other Wrong sister boarded the same plane. Did she make it there?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll double-check with her family.”
“Are they not worried?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers. “The only thing they’re worried about is if their water has enough sparkles.”
“I see,”Martin says after a pause. “What an interesting alliance it will be.”
“You have no idea.” I sigh. “I’ll see what I can find out from here and then report him missing to the locals.”
I end the call and start pacing the room. Ezra is missing. And as I’ve just learned, Maeve Wrong is too—probably on the same boat ride into that storm.
I swap my wet shirt for a dry one, throw on shorts, and head out. Beatrice is likely drowning her anger at the bar, at least that’s what I would do. Avoiding her would be smart. But I need to ask about Maeve, and talking to Bea feels easier than facing her unbothered parents.
The bar is dim and nearly empty. Low lights cast long shadows over straw chairs and the glossy counter.
She’s there, hunched over a table, not drinking this time but flipping through a notebook and talking to a staffer with a honey-sweet voice I’ve never heard her use with me. The same white sundress hugs her curves, the still damp material clinging to her skin for dear life, but she seems not to be bothered by it.
She’s gorgeous, even when wrecked, and I hate how it ignites the interest below my belt. The bar’s quiet—no guests, just staff glancing her way. The staffer she’s talking to is staring at herintently. His eyes haven’t lifted above her chin the whole time I’ve been watching him.
When she spots me heading her direction, her eyes narrow to slits. “What now, caveman? I thought we put all dots over thei’s.”
I slide into the chair across from her, keeping the table as a barrier, and the staffer walks away sheepishly. “Making sure you don’t burn this place down, little mouse. Find anything on your sister?”
The fight behind her eyes about what to do with my question is obvious. But it must be important to her because she replies with a loud sigh of defeat. “No. Anything on Ezra?”
