“Having a nice time here, sweetheart?”
“Last time I checked I wasn’t your sweetheart.”
“You could be though, if you play your cards right.”
“That’s not on my agenda.”Fucker,I add under my breath. I am going from lukewarm, to ice-cold frigid in a matter of seconds.
“Maybe I can change your mind?” He shifts to face me. I slurp my pina colada loudly through the straw in the hope of putting him off.
“How long are you staying at Paradise?” he asks.
“Two weeks.”
“Me too. Must be fate,” he purrs.
I shudder at the thought of dodging him for days. Okay, it’s time to hightail it out of here. I’m done with guys like this. All hot air and premature ejaculations.
‘Gotta go, I’ve a facial booked,” I lie, slamming down my glass and jumping up.
“It couldn’t make you more beautiful than you already are.”
“Thanks.” I hope my tone conveys my utter contempt.
“See you at the bar later.”
I shrug. “Whatever.”Not if I see you first,I hiss under my breath as I wind the towel round my waist, feeling his mirrored gaze cling to me like sticky tape.
I throw my beach bag over my shoulder and stalk off toward the hotel complex.
A crowd of girls get out of the elevator carrying beach balls and dolphin shaped lilos. They’re all wearing tiny bikinis, all excited to have fun on their vacation.
Giggling, they jostle past me, making me feel old, even though I’m barely twenty-five. I stare at the control panel, forgetting which floor my room is on. Is it the tenth or the eleventh? I pull out my key card and look at it.
Room 1015.
When the elevator pings, I stalk off down the thickly carpeted corridor lined with identical doors, soft music piping out of speakers above my head. Everything is just how you’d expect it to be, but as I walk, I get this prickly feeling on my scalp and the back of my neck. Like I’m not alone.
What if the jerk from the beach is following me? I glance over my shoulder. There’s no-one in sight, the corridor behind me empty.
Relax, Clem.
Even so, the feeling doesn’t go away, and I pick up my pace as I near my room.
As I hold the key card to the pad on the door, I’m certainsomeone is right behind me. Another quick glance over my shoulder. No-one there. I open the door, slip inside and make to shut it real fast, but something—or someone—is pushing it back.
Panicking, I try to slam the door, and then I see a booted foot on the ground, then another following me into the room—no legs, just boots. The door slams behind us and I’m marched backward by two floating hands until my calves hit the side of the bed. I lose my balance and sprawl onto the mattress.
I open my mouth and let out a scream. A familiar voice growls, “Shut it, Clem.”
And suddenly a guy materializes in front of me.
It’s not the jerk from the beach.
It’s another jerk altogether.
My brother, Jax.
“What the fuck, Jax!” I shout at him.
