‘Yes,’ I say finally, the word coming out quieter than I mean it to.
Something flickers across his face but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. Disappointment, maybe? Or understanding.
Then, just like that, his expression smooths out and he’s all charm and composure again.
‘Good,’ he says, slipping his hands into his pockets like he hasn’t just completely undone me. ‘Then I’ll see you downstairs.’
He offers the faintest smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and then he’s gone.
I hear a startled gasp from the housekeeper as Asher exits my suite, some mumbled conversation, and then—
‘Ms Davies? I was just coming in to bring you some more towels…’
I wave the housekeeper in, pretending I don’t still taste Asher on my lips. She bustles about, oblivious, or maybe just polite enough not to comment on my obvious dishevelment – though, thankfully, I’ve have pulled my dress back down – while I stand rooted to the spot, heart hammering.
The second the door clicks shut behind her, I let out a deep breath and lean back against the table. My reflection in thewindow looks wrecked – hair mussed, lipstick faded, eyes still too wide. I look like a woman who has very obviously just been kissed senseless.
I wince. There’s no doubt in my mind that the housekeeper will be racing back to the rest of the staff with this piece of hot gossip on the tip of her tongue.
Asher Vouvalis was in Imani Davies’ suite. Alone. Just the two of them. Absolutely no trouble in paradise.
It’ll be on @TrustFundTea by the end of the night.
I came here to wreck my father’s plan and to prove that forcing Asher and me together would implode spectacularly.
Instead, I’m doing exactly what he wanted: playing the part of the perfect heiress, the one who can’t stay away from the man her father chose.
My father wanted headlines and chemistry and a public image that screams ‘Peregrine–Vouvalis power couple’.
And somehow, without even trying, I’m giving him exactly that.
CHAPTER TWENTYImani
I can still taste him.
It’s maddening the way the memory of him lingers on my lips. I’ve reapplied my lipstick twice, downed half a glass of champagne while getting ready, and still, the ghost of Asher’s mouth against mine refuses to leave my mind.
I tell myself to focus as I step into the lift, heart thudding a little too loudly beneath the silk of my dress as we head down to the reception. I have a job tonight.
Flirt.
Smile.
Remind everyone that Asher and I are a non-starter. And thateveryoneincludes me too.
The cocktail hour is already in full swing by the time I make it downstairs. I have to hand it them, the Vouvalis Resort staff have really outdone themselves with this location. The reception room gleams like a jewellery box: soft amberlighting spilling across marble floors, waiters gliding between clusters of people with trays of crystal flutes, and the scent of champagne and expensive perfume hangs heavy in the air.
I straighten my shoulders, paste on a smile, and scan the room for a suitable flirtation candidate. Someone pretty, charming, and absolutely harmless. Someone I can bat my eyelashes at and laugh with for five minutes without feeling my pulse jump the way it does around Asher.
But before I can even take two steps into the throng of the crowd, a voice rings out over the buzz of conversation. It’s warm, teasing, and entirely too loud.
‘Hi, future sister-in-law!’
I turn, mortification rooting me to the spot, and find myself standing directly in front of Teddy Vouvalis.
The middle Vouvalis boy is grinning like an unruly kid who’s just dropped a match into a crate full of fireworks.
His crisp, linen shirt is open just enough to hint at tanned skin and an expensive watch glinting at his wrist. He looks like the human embodiment of a yacht party. He’s holding a cocktail in one hand and waving the other enthusiastically like we’re old friends and not two people who have never said one word to each other.
