And yet…
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Stop thinking, Lark,” I mutter to myself and grab a sweater at random. I pair it with jeans, then pause to look at the lingerie again.
My eyebrow inches upward as I take in the various sets. There’s a black set that’s actually rather pretty. Just a bra and a thong. But a floral pattern is etched into the lacy texture. “Screw it.” I grab them and walk over to the changing area to get dressed.
Because of course there’s a changing area attached to the closet. One surrounded by mirrors with a round bench at the center. I can only imagine what the guys have in mind with this.
Actually, Idoimagine.
Because I can totally picture Lazarus sitting right there in the center, arms splayed along the back, watching me with those dark eyes as I try on the lingerie he picked.
This set is totally from him. Simplistic. Black. Sexy as sin.
I swallow when I see my reflection in the mirror. And for a moment, I almost hope there’s a camera in here.
Do you like what you see?I wonder, preening in case the men are watching.
Then I realize how stupid I’m acting and quickly throw on the clothes.
It’s dangerous to crave their attention. Scent matches or not, it’s not healthy to want them. They’re rivals of the Bianchi family.
Sort of, anyway.
Not really.
“Ugh.” I’ve clearly not taken my own advice tostop thinking.
Shaking my head, I leave the closet, take care of a few items in the bathroom—such as pulling my hair up into a ponytail—and head back into the bedroom.
Lazarus said I could wander. So I think I’ll do just that.
I head toward the door, only to realize I should probably take my gun. It’s on the nightstand beside both of my phones.
I definitely didn’t put those there. Which means Johan did. He obviously took off my boots, too. I spy those near the bed but don’t bother putting them on.
Instead, I pick up both phones and examine the screens. The new one has a bunch of missed messages and calls. “Oops.”
I’m about to sit down to go through them when I spot the balcony doors off my room and get a better idea. Lazarus said not to leave the estate. He didn’t say I couldn’t go outside, right?
Wandering over, I twist the ornate handle and find it unlocked. Then I step outside onto a beautiful terrace that appears to wrap around this entire level. Or at least the entire level on this wing, anyway.
“Wow,” I whisper, in awe of not just the beautiful balcony but also the view of the beach and the ocean beyond.
I knew we were in the Hamptons.
I wasn’t aware we were also on the coast.
Though, it seems obvious now. There’s no way a family with as much money as the Ferraros would live out here and notchoose a secluded property away from all the others. And they would definitely require a view.
My dad and his pack were the same.
Only, the Bianchi family prefers the city, owning several properties throughout Brooklyn, with one main tower in Midtown Manhattan.
The Ferraros own most of Manhattan. But not that tower. Or the one across from it that’s maintained by the Ricci empire.
Regardless of all that, I like it here. With the ocean scents in the air. The soft sound of water rolling against the sand. It’s peaceful.
Unfortunately, though, the messages on my phone are quite the opposite. Not because my friends are applying any sort of pressure, but because they’re all very clearly worried.
