Page 87 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

Turning her back to the mirror, she peers over her shoulder.“I can barely wear this thong with it. Maybe I should go without.”

“If you take off those panties, trust and believe you’regetting fucked in a public place tonight.”

“Promise?” Her dark eyes dance with humor, and somethingsqueezes around my heart. She’s so bold and smart and kind and hilarious. Shemakes me laugh and lust and live life to the fullest. Usually reticent, I findthat I want to tell her everything. I’m not sure she’sready to hear how deeply the last two weeks have affected me.

“Sit.” I nod to the bed. Once she’s seated, I grab the shoesshe’s set out and slip them on her feet, glancing up to meet her eyes.

I tug her to stand and walk her over to the wall mirror,standing behind her and entwining our fingers at her sides. With her braidscoiled into an intricate updo, studded with gold clamps, and the proud set ofher shoulders as she stares back at her reflection, she looks like a queen.

“You really enjoy doing this for me, don’t you?” she asks,something like wonder in her eyes.

“You’re obviously incredibly capable,” I tell her. “I knowyou don’t need me to take care of you, but I want you to knowthere’s someone who loves doing it. That you don’t have to carry everythingalone.”

She looks stunned for a moment. Ibend to kiss her cheek and then the corner of her mouth.

“For someone who works so hard making other peoplebeautiful,” I tell her, “for a few days, I wanted younot to lift a finger even for yourself.”

“No one’s ever done that for me.” She blinks rapidly, bitingher bottom lip.

I turn her back to study her reflection and meet her eyes inthe mirror. “I hope you’ll get used to it.”

Chapter Nineteen

Takira

The beach club isn’t that large, but it’sspectacular. Decorated entirely in white and gold, it’s somehow pristine anddecadent. The supple leather couches and seats, the crystal chandelierssparkling with diamond brilliance overhead, the mirrored bars—all of it shouldscream excess but somehow merely whispers opulence. The dance floor juts outonto the water, creating the illusion that it’s floating. Boats of varioussizes are moored at the edges like a watery parking lot. Our yacht is a littlefarther out but looms as a grim reminder that it and the end of this idyllictrip are waiting for me.

“Having fun?” Iris asks over the music. She looks beautiful,her dark hair piled atop her head and a slinky dress molded to her curves.Nothing about her says “mother of two,” but I’ve seen her texting and talkingon the phone with August’s mom, who has their kids—seen her FaceTimingwith them. She’s a devoted mom. A hot one, too.

“The party’s great,” I reply. “That dress is gorgeous, bythe way.”

“Yours!” Her eyes sweep over me. “You look so good, but youalways do. So confident.”

“Confident or don’t care what nobody thinks. I’m a little ofboth, I guess.”

“You’re exactly what Naz needs. He’s kind of reserved, and abold woman like you to shake things up is good for him.”

“He’s good for me, too.”

“Well, I’m glad he tricked you into coming,” Iris says, herlips quirking.

“It wasn’t much of a trick,” I say wryly. “My eyes werepretty wide open.”

I survey the party, packed with people I’ve seen on E! andTMZ and occasionally around town back in LA.

“Kenan has a lot of friends,” I tell Iris with a smile.

“He’s a good guy to have in your corner, so everyone wantshim in theirs. He’s pretty discriminating about who he lets in, though, so ifthey’re here, they’re good people.”

“Where are the guys?” I ask, realizing I haven’t seen any ofthem for a while.

“Believe it or not, there’s a wall-sized television on theother side of the club. They’re all watching some soccer match. Jared’sclient’s playing.” She grabs a drink from a tray as it passes. “But I’m goingto retrieve my husband right now.”

“I need to find Naz, too.” I search the floor of gyratingbodies and check the room’s perimeter lined with couches where partygoers areeating, drinking, lounging. No sign of Naz.

“Oh, isn’t that him?” Iris points across the room to a farcorner.

My eyes find him easily, his height and shoulders making hima mountain in a roomful of trees. He, like everyone else, wears white, and theopen collar shirt paired with tailored white slacks shows stark against hisdark skin. His proud head is tilted down to a blonde woman, a server holding atray and speaking into his ear.