ChapterFifteen
CHLOE
The hotel is absolutely stunning. I’m used to luxury, but this is next level. One side, overlooking the harbour and the bright lights of Sydney, is composed entirely of glass. Inside it’s spacious, modern and almost offensively bright to my tired eyes.
My top floor suite is bigger than my entire office in Dubai, the bath big enough for four.
As I hang my dresses in the walk-in wardrobe, my mind inevitably wanders to Jayden. He’s as infuriatingly sexy as ever. The only difference is now I’m painfully aware the fire burning through my blood every time I see him isn’t rage, it’s pure lust.
Ignorance really was bliss.
A gentle knock sounds at my door. It’s him. I know before I even open it. As Shakira said, the hips don’t lie and mine, along with every other inch of me, hums to life. Blood crusades through my chest, pounding in my ears.
It’s tempting to let him in, now I know what he’s capable of, but I can’t. No matter how badly I crave his touch, no matter how alive he makes me feel, there’s a reason I don’t do repeats.
Letting people in results in heartbreak. If I’m this obsessed after one night, what would a second do to me?
I can’t afford to find out.
Warily, I crack the door open to peek out.
Jayden’s huge, bulky frame rests casually against the wall. That brutally attractive face stares knowingly at me, like he can read my mind, sensing my wavering sense of self-control.
With billboard worthy bone-structure and lips that part to reveal the perfect all-American smile, his allure is inescapable. And don’t get me started on the sculpted planes of his body, barely concealed by a fitted white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, as if he’s oh-so-willing to get those hands dirty again.
He wears his sexuality like a weapon.
Grey eyes roam lasciviously over me, silver flames of desire dancing in his irises. He shoves the door open and lunges at me like a lion pouncing on its prey. That expert tongue dips deliciously inside my mouth as the heavenly scent of his aftershave intoxicates me.
This wasn’t the plan.
This isn’t the plan.
This is the biggest opportunity of my life. I can’t fuck it up by fucking my almost brother-in-law. Again. I just can’t.
He growls as I dart back, running my fingers over my bruised lower lip. Hot, barely controllable desire flames through me, scorching me from the inside out. ‘We can’t, Jayden, okay? This thing between us is over.’
He takes a step back, resting his shoulder on the doorframe like he owns the place. ‘I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Princess.’ Leaning forwards, his lips brush the sensitive skin of my earlobe. ‘This thing between us is only just beginning. It’s only over when I say it’s over.’ He winks before disappearing down the corridor, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
Thankfully, I don’t have too much time to dwell on it before Izzy arrives with a checklist for the concert, reminding me of the reason I’m here.
Sasha, being Sasha, has organised for the four of us to have dinner together in the hotel’s Michelin star panoramic restaurant. She knocks on my door as Izzy is about to leave.
‘Sasha, this is Izzy, my PA. I don’t know if you’ve been formally introduced?’
Izzy looks a little star struck, gazing over Sasha’s shoulder, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryan, the main man himself. ‘I saw you in passing, but it’s lovely to meet you.’ Izzy extends a trembling hand, reminding me of the time Jayden introduced me to Aurelia Arlington. I’m as bad as Sasha now. Every little thing seems to lead me back to Jayden.
‘Ditto. I know Chloe only hires the best, so you must be very talented.’
‘I try.’ Izzy stares at Sasha’s outfit, a black silk dress with a cowlneck. No doubt it’s an Evangeline Araceli number, a super famous fashion designer from the States who took a shine to my sister. Thank god we’re the same size because Sasha doesn’t go anywhere near enough places to wear all the dresses she gets sent.
She prefers the comfort of the castle where we grew up. The castle I abandoned the day after I was old enough to leave.
Even thinking about it now widens that hole in my chest. So many memories. So much guilt. So much heartache.
I was seventeen when my parents died. It was the worst time of my life. And when Sasha lost the baby she was carrying, I had to wonder if the damned place was cursed.
Almost seven years later, it’s clear it isn’t.
