Page 49

“Do you pay everyone in your life for something?”

“I pay everyone for the service they offer; it’s good practice.”

Rachel smiles at me. “Well, you can pay me for my services as a wardrobe consultant, Blake, but you don’t have to pay me to be your friend.”

Her words make me feel a mix of emotions. Does she really see us as friends? She doesn’t just see me as a means to an end?

Everyonesees me as a means to an end—everyone wants something from me.

But the fact that she used the word “friend” pisses me off. I don’t want to befriendswith her.

What the hell am I thinking? What would the alternative be?

Being lovers isn’t possible.

Friends will have to do.

When we arrive at the VIP suite I always stay in, Charlie brings the bags to the bedrooms for us. The suite is a cottage with a luxurious living room and dining room and two bedrooms, each with a bathroom. A large patio looks out over breathtaking sea views. I only want the best.

And I want Rachel to only have the best.

“I hope you don’t mind us sharing a cottage,” I say when Rachel looks around. “You have your own bedroom and bathroom.”

“I don’t mind,” she says with a smile. “Gregory Dillon might get suspicious if we’re in different cottages.”

I blink at her. When her face slips into a smile, I realize she’s joking.

I laugh, and the sound is unexpected. Rachel brings a different side out in me, and I can’t say I hate it. She giggles when I laugh and walks to her room. I watch her walk away—holy fuck, she has a perfect ass.

I walk to my room and look around. A maid is already unpacking my luggage for me, hanging everything in the closet. I notice the clothes Rachel picked out for me. It’s good stuff—she clearly knows what she’s doing.

When I met her, that was all I expected; professionalism and efficiency.

Who would have guessed I’d get so much more from her?

Don’t.I scold myself before I get a chance to think about having sex with her again. Having her naked, writhing beneath me, is an image seared into my brain.

But I can’t think about her that way. Not when her room is right next door.

God, I could march in there now, bend her over the bed, and fuck her.

My cock responds in agreement.

But I can’t do that. She made it clear—I can’t fuck her and then pretend nothing happened. And she’s right, I shouldn’t use her.

Although, when I think of her,usingher is the last thing on my mind.

Which is why this is such a dangerous thing to do.

But we’re here now. There’s no going back.

I shouldn’t be as pleased about that fact as I am.

I look around while the maid does her thing. Everything has been taken care of, just as I asked. I’m pleased—I’ll give the staff a bonus after this weekend. They always fall over their feet to do what I ask and go above and beyond their job description.

When I hear movement in the kitchen, I walk to the open-plan living area to find Rachel putting on the coffee machine.

“Do you want a cup?” she asks.