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Chapter 13
SILAS
Whoa.
It was legit the only word I could think of until the word swank came to mind. I’d thought the plane was lit, but this resort was... whoa.
Ibiza. I’d heard of it. I’d watched some reality show set here. But damn.
Erin had a brochure in her hand that some random concierge had shoved at her and she was reading while Pretty Boy’s bodyguard or BFF or whatever, checked us in.
Erin’s voice was bubbling with excitement. “We can start the day with yoga on our private deck, slide into breakfast, take a ride on the ocean. We can mountain bike and hike, learn to cook... we can do everything here.”
I wasn’t sure about the other two guys, but my ideas ofeverythingwith Erin had nothing to do with hiking or biking. And yoga was not a sport I planned to indulge in unless she counted downward doggy style.
I chuckled to myself because no one else was in my head to hear the joke.
So instead of sharing my internal monologue with anyone, I watched Erin instead. She was a siren, a woman with some incredible magic. Probably something cooked up by that little Merlin dude with the glasses and... never mind.
“What’s a SUP?”
Looking to me for the answer was probably a mistake. I was by no means stupid but I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about “What’s up.” I gave a cool-guy wink, a pair of finger pistols and then a shrug because I had no clue what she was talking about.
“It’s a stand-up paddle tour.” If nothing else, we could count on Pretty Boy to translate rich people talk into stuff we understood.
“Ooh. Let’s do that.” She looked at the assistant and he nodded as a slow smile slid across his face.
“I’ll set it up.”
Of course, he would. He would probably set up whatever she wanted. I wondered for a second how I could get on the list of her secret desires. In fact, I wanted to be a lot more than just a desire. I wanted to be one of her needs.
Henryk stood at the counter speaking in perfect Spanish. I didn’t like that guy.
I looked at Viktor. “No way can we afford this place.”
“Moneybags is paying.” Viktor nodded to where the prince of perfection was smiling at the desk clerk like he was buying her a car. Hell, I couldn’t speak Spanish, so for all I knew, he was.
“His name in Henryk, guys,” Erin added with a roll of the eyes
I shrugged at her. “Who cares?”
His attitude on the plane said, “I don’t care about anyone,” but his smile was thecome-get-meversion and Erin was eating it up. She might’ve even batted her lashes a time or two. I was a little bit jealous, I had to admit. He oozed charm. I was muscle.
We’d agreed to share, but I wasn’t sure how easy that was going to be.
“I care,” Erin said and her voice was soft. Then she glanced at him over her shoulder.
Oh, boy.
Whether or not we liked this guy wasn’t the issue. The fact was, Erin liked him. And since he was paying for this party palace, maybe we could find some common ground other than just the girl we all liked. It was a thought, anyway.
“It’s cool that he’s paying,” I choked out.
I wished we could afford to stay here without him. But we couldn’t, and that was a fact.
Henryk was still at the counter. Unless that desk clerk was the new fiancé, I couldn’t imagine what they were still talking about. It sure as hell didn’t look like he was haggling—I would’ve been. She was all smiles, and he was grinning like a fool. For all I knew, he was trying to pick her up. Not that I cared. Actually, I hoped he was.
If he wanted to diddle the help, that left more time with Erin for us. And it didn’t bother me to call that woman the help, because I, too, was the help. I liked the role myself. It gave me purpose. More so than wearing my crown around the castle all day, anyway.
