LayItDown

ByMaryCalmes

Paradisecanbehell.

Most people would say being stranded in the villa of Spanish shipping magnate

MiguelGarcíaArqueroonthebeautifulisleofIbizawasn’tsuchabaddeal.ButHudson
Barberisn’toneofthem.Tohim,beingstuckwithoutapassportinaforeigncountryfar
fromhomeisanightmare,madeworsebythefactthatthepersonwhodidthestranding
washisflightytwinbrother.

Unwilling to turn Dalvon in for identity theft, Hudson is forced to wait, but

meanwhile he discovers the chance to rehabilitate Miguel’s failing local businesses—
enterpriseslefttoDalvon’sinexperiencedcare.Theflaggingventuresareabadlywrapped
giftfromheaven,andifHudsoncanturnthemaround,hemightbeabletoleveragethe
experiencetofinishhisMBA.

ThenMiguelreturnstoIbiza,andinsteadoffindingaboytoy,hediscoversHudson

hasturnedhiscoldvillaintoawarm,welcominghome.Miguel’spathisclear:convince
Hudsontolaydownhisdefensesandletlovein.

ChapterOne

THESCREAMINGwokeme.

Sitting up slowly, painfully, I glanced quickly around the ornate, sumptuously

furnished room and found I was still in the master suite of the villa owned by Miguel
GarcíaArquero.

“Shit,” I groaned, the headache pounding at my temples not helped at all by the

shriekingasIsearchedformyphone.

It was dusk, so the light was soft in the room. The gentle breeze stirring the sheer

white curtains and the smells of lavender and wisteria wafting through the open french
doorsweresoothing.

“No!”

Thecryingwasnot.

Seeing my phone on the floor, I rolled out of bed and nearly fell when my feet

touched the marble. I kept my balance, got hold of my iPhone, kept my eyes on the
doorway,andmadeitthere,squintingalltheway.Ireallyneededmysunglasses.

Sinceitwasrudetowalkaroundbarefootinthehouse—IknewalittleaboutSpanish

culture—Islippedonthebunnyslippersmybrotherhadjokinglyboughtformeandwent
tofindoutwhatthecommotionwasabout.

Hurling open the double doors, I walked to the balcony and gazed down, one eye

open,oneeyeclosed,andtookinthescenebelow.

My brother’s fiancé, sugar daddy, dream come true—seriously, I’d lost track of the

differentwordsDalvonhadusedoverthepastsixmonths—PrinceCharmingwasanother,
theperfection-in-the-flesh’smotherwasbeingwalkedoutofthevilla,escortedbytwobig
menI’dneverseenbefore.Theywerefollowedcloselybyanothermanandawoman—
they had to be Inés’s other children, from the resemblance—and Pablo, the villa’s
overseer.

“Thefuck,”Igrowleddownateveryone.

They all froze and looked up at me, and I could only imagine what I looked like,

standingthereinboxerbriefsandatankunderanivorysilkrobe.

“SeñorBarber,wearesorrytodisturb,”Pablocalleduptome.“Pleasereturntoyour

room,andIwillsendupatrayoffood.”

Ididn’tthinkanythingforalongmoment,andthenithitmeasfunny:hethoughtI

wasmybrother,Dalvon.Andyeah,itmadesense,weweretwins,butIwasbuiltheavier
than him, more muscular, and I worked at it, whereas he did nothing and stayed both

leanerandsleeker.Iexerciseddaily,didlotsofcardio,andpumpedalotofweights.He
swamintheMediterraneanoffthesideofa150-footyacht.Hewastheonewiththesun-
bleached blond mane and golden tan; I was the guy with enough hair on his face that it
wasmorethanstubblebutnotquiteabeard,andshortredhairthatstuckupintuftswhen
there was no product in it—like now. We had common features, but anyone with a
discerningeyecouldtellusapart.Wewerefraternaltwins,notidentical,afterall.

Now, if Dalvon had spent the summer in Boston, where I lived, instead of in Ibiza

where he did, had let his tan fade, cut all the blond out of his hair, and worked out at
little…maybehecouldhavepassedforme.Itwaspossible,justnotprobable.Whatwas
notpossiblewasthereverse.Theideaofmelookinglikehimwasridiculous.Butatthe
moment,Ineededtostopwhateverthehellwashappening,soIletmyselfbechristened
Dalvonanddidn’tcorrectPablowithmyrealname:Hudson.

“WhereisInésgoing?”Iaskeddrolly,leaningovertherail.

“TomyhomeinBarcelona,”thedaughter—Marta,Ithoughthernamewas—replied

coldly,glaringupatmebeforesnappingherfingersforthementocarryon.

Isnappedmineback,justtobebitchy,andtheystopped.Itwasbothsurprisingand

not.Itwasmy—Dalvon’s—house,afterall.

“Whodoyou—”

“Idon’tthinkshewantstogo.”Itwasanunderstatement,seeinghowberefttheolder

womanappeared.

“Itisofnoconcern––”

“And since she doesn’t want to and you’re making her, I’m assuming you have

permissionfromMigueltoremovehismotherfromthevilla?”Iprodded.

Nothing.

“Okay, then,” I said, looking to the villa’s front door and tipping my head at the

guardswhoIknewwereDalvon’smen.Theysawmymotionandmovedforward.

“What?” The man on Inés’s heels—clearly related to her, now that I was really

lookingathim—bellowed.SohewasRamón,theotherson.“Howdareyouquestionwhat
wedowithourmother?Youaresimplyaholeformybrotherto—”

“No.”Istoppedhimcold,andIcouldtellhewasstartled.Ramónwasprobablyready

to pass out from shock what with me being insistent and all. I was not acting like the
Dalvon he knew and usually walked over—I’d been noticing it the whole time I’d been
visiting.Mybrotherwasadoormat.

Dalvon was quiet and gentle, a sweet little bird who’d always needed someone to

havehimandholdhimandputthemselvesbetweenhimandtheworld.Growingup,that
personhadbeenme.Throughfosterhomesandgrouphomes,ithadalwaysbeenme.His
modeling contract at sixteen was a blessing because it got him out of the scary parts of
Boston, and also a curse because I couldn’t follow him around anymore. I had to go to
school; I wanted to be the guy running the company, not the guy in the ad campaign
sellingwhatevertheymade.Iwassohappywhenhecalledandsaidhe’dmetsomeone.

Miguel García Arquero was a shipping magnate from Valencia, Spain, and he was

going to make an honest man of my brother, according to what I’d been told. Dalvon
wouldn’thavetomodelanymorebecausehewasgoingtomarryMiguelandbehisarm
candy for the rest of his life. My relief almost made me fall back into bed with my
estranged boyfriend, but I caught myself before I reignited something I had already
successfullykilled.

When Dalvon wanted to know what I really thought of him becoming Miguel’s

husband, I told him sincerely how truly thrilled I was. Dalvon was not made to be
anythingbuttheloveofsomeluckyguy’slife.Hewasagreatcook,hewouldwaitonyou
handandfoot,andallhewantedtodowasmakethepersonheloveddeliriouswithjoy.
Being the trophy of a ridiculously rich man was perfect for him. He’d found his prince,
andtheguyturnedouttobeabillionaire.Itwaswin-win.

IunderstoodmyfirstdayatthevillathatDalvonhadpower.Hejustwasn’twielding

it.

Everyoneaskedhimquestions,deferredtohim,butwhenitcamedowntomakinga

choice—whatdidhewantfordinner,whatdidhewanttodo,didhewanttoplantheparty
orsimplygoouttotheclub—hecouldn’tmakedecisions.Becauseofthat,thestaffhadto
doitallthemselves,andthatwaswherethedisrespectcamein.

The servants ignored him. Pablo, who seemed like a genuinely nice guy, placated

him.Nooneelseevennoticedhewasthereunlessheneededsomething.Dalvonwasn’t
permitted to make the home he wanted, and he wasn’t allowed to provide the warmth
missing from the villa. But the one thing he told me he did love, that he’d put his foot
downfor,wasMiguel’smother.

Whenhisprincehadaskedhimifhe’dmindifInéscametolivewiththem—thevilla

inIbizahadthirtyrooms,itwasn’tlikethey’dbeontopofeachother—ofcourseDalvon
had said yes. He never had a mother and was thrilled to finally have one, and now, for
whateverreason,theythoughttheyweregoingtoremoveherwhilehewasout?Hell,no,
notonmywatch.

“Howdareyoueven—”

“Don’ttestme!”Iroared.Everyonelookedupatme,evenInés,whowasnowvisibly

crying.“Thisismyvilla,myhome,andeveryonehereworksforme!Ifyouwanttobecut
offthemomentMiguelcomesback,goaheadandtakeyourmotheroutofhere.”

“Youwouldnotdare!”Martashrilled.

“Oh,thehellIwouldn’t.He’lldowhateverIaskbecauseeventhoughImaybejusta

pieceofass,I’mhisfavoritefuckin’pieceofass,andifyoudon’tbelieveme,gethimon
thegoddamnphone!”

Ramón and Marta, both clearly furious, going by their expressions, stood with the

thugs—as I thought of them now—who were escorting Inés, but they were quickly
encircled by not only Dalvon’s two guards, but several others who’d come from other
partsofthevillatoassistthem.Theymusthaveheardtheshouting.

IwatchedPablo’sheadsnapup,andwemadeeyecontactasIcamedowntheoutside

stairs.

“Make up your mind right now. Do you work for me? Are you loyal to me or

somebodyelse?”

Hehesitatedahalfasecondtoolong.

Ipassedjudgment,mywordsclipped,scalding,brookingnoprotest.“You’rerelieved

ofyourpositon.”

“Dalvon,”hepleaded.ItwasfunnythathereallydidthinkIwasmybrother.

“No,” I said icily, moving quickly through the space my hulking bodyguards made

formetofacehim.“Whothehellisyournumbertwohere?”

“Ihavenoideawhatyouthinkyouare—”

“Me.”

Pivoting, I found myself facing a very beautiful blonde woman who couldn’t have

beenmorethanfivefoottwo.Shewasteeny,small-bonedlikeabird,buthereyesblazed.

“Who’reyou?”

“IamDuenaTorresJuez,andIreportdirectlytoPablo.”

“Notanymore,”Ihuffed.“Nowyoureporttome.”

She took my measure, and even in the robe and fluffy slippers, I was apparently

somewhatimpressive.“Sí,”shedecidedquickly.

Ismirkedatherandsawthesurpriseregisteronherface.“Iwanteveryoneouttahere

exceptmeandInés,andtoday,rightfuckin’now,wecleanhouse.”

Duena’s eyes narrowed as she studied my face, and then she took the leap that

coincided with a breath and dove in, trusting me to catch her and keep her safe if the
wholethingbackfiredandMiguelwaspissedwhenhegothome.

“At once,” she agreed and turned on her chunky black ankle boots and said

somethingtothemeninMiguel’semploysothattheymaderoomforhertogettothetwo
gorillaswho’dbeentryingtoremoveInés.ThebarrageofSpanishsheletlooseonthem,I
hadnohopeoffollowing.

Iyawned,walkedbyMiguel’ssiblings,andmovedinfrontofInésArqueroMartín,

facingher.“Hiya,”Isaidsoftly,smiling.

Hereyesfilledwithfreshtearsasshegazedatme.

Itookanotherstepclosersoonlyshecouldhearme.“ClearlyI’mnotDalvon,butI

canhelpyouuntilhegetsbackfromwherever—oof!”

She lunged at me, wrapped her arms around my neck, buried her head against my

shoulder,andtrembledviolently.“Hudson,”shemurmured.Irubbedherbackandheldher
close as the tornado that was Duena Torres blew around us. The woman was scary, and
her voice carried through the villa as she roared out orders. All the men around her
scuttledtocomply.

InésinherredChanelsuitandIinmybathrobeadjournedtothepatiowherelunch

wassoonserved.

I THANKED the housekeeper for bringing me sparkling water and Tylenol as well as
someamazing-lookingseafoodpaella,andIwassurprisedwhenshesuddenlypattedmy
handandsaidsomethingquicklyinSpanish.

“I’msorry,señora,Idon’tspeakthelanguage.”

Her smile warmed, her teak-colored eyes glinted and the laugh lines around them

deepened. She was a handsome woman―not beautiful―tall and willowy with long hair
wrappedupinaneat,tightbun.“Youareanangelforkeepingthemaster’smamawithus.
Youarenothinglikeyourbrother.”

Thatwastrue.“SpeakingofDal,doyouhappentoknowwherehewent?”

“No,señorBarber.”

“JustHudson,”Iinsistedcrisply.“Hudson’sgood.”

Shewassurprised.Itwasalloverherfacebeforesherecovered.“IamAnita.”

“Good to meet you, Anita. I’m sorry we didn’t meet last week. I kept thinking my

brotherwouldintroducemetoeveryonehere,buthenevergotaroundtoit.”

Shemadeahmphnoiseatme.

“What?”

Shewavedahanddismissively.

“No,tellme.”

Icouldtellfromthewayhershouldersstraightenedthatshe’dtakenaquickbreathto

gird herself. Battle stance all the way. She expected me to attack her. “To him, to your
brother,allofuswereonlystaff,anditwouldnotoccurtohimtoknowournames.”

Iscrunchedupmyfacewhilethinkingaboutthat.“He’snotactuallythatdouchey,but

Icanseewhereyou’dgetthatimpression.”

Shenodded.

“Buteitherway,I’mgladwemetnow.”

“As am I,” she granted, leaning close to stroke my cheek. She stood tall again and

gestured at the beautiful meal she had put down before Inés and me. “Would you like
somethingotherthanthepaella?YourbrotheralwayspreferredAmericandishesto—”

“Oh, no, are you kidding?” I made a face like she was nuts. “I’m salivating just

lookingatit.Ijusthopethere’senoughforInés.”

Herlipspursed.“Sothenpulpoalagallegaisgoodwithyoufordinneralongwith

tortillaespañolaandempanadas?”

Itwasatest.Icouldtellfromhertoneandthelookofdaringonherface.ButIgrew

upinBoston,andIknewmydamnseafoodandwhatitwascalledinanumberofdifferent
languages.“Ohyeah,Ilikeoctopusandempanadas,butwhatistortillaespañola?”

Herfacebrightened.“Youlikeoctopus?”

“Whodoesn’t?”

ShewasstudyingmeasIgotatraceofasmile.

“ButIneverheardoftortillaespañola,”Ireiterated.

“Itisapotatodishwithcheese.”

“Soundsgreat,”Iassuredher.“I’msorrytomakeyoucookallthemeals,though.I

knowDalandIateoutalmosteverynightthispastweek.Hesaidyoudon’tliketocook.”

“I love to cook, but my husband died and we were never able to have children, so

nowIhaveonlyMigueltocookforwhenheishome.”

“Well,youhavemeuntilit’stimeformetogo,”Isaid,chuckling.“Ilovefood.Ijust

can’tcookanythingatall.”

“Thatisokay,hijomío.Iamheretofeedyou.”

“Luckyme.”

ShenoddedinthatquietwayIwasalreadygettingusedto.

“Askyouaquestion?”

“Ofcourse,”Anitaagreed.

“Doyoulovethatoutfit?”Iasked,indicatingthedatedgetupshewasin.

“Theuniform,youmean?”

“Yeah,” I said, grimacing over the black-and-white maid’s outfit that looked like it

wasleftoverfromthefifties.

“No.”Sheclippedtheword.

“Well,foraslongasI’mhere,let’sditchit.”

She arched one judgmental eyebrow, and I smiled because I could tell she was the

kindofwomanwhowasnoteasilyimpressed.“Sí.”

Whensheleft,IturnedtoInés,whoIcouldjusttellhadbeenabeautywhenshewas

younger,andstillwas.

Her thick gray and silver hair fell straight to her shoulders where it flipped up in a

perfectcurl.FrompicturesI’dseen,IknewthatInéshadgiftedhersonwithherstunning
darkliquidbrowneyes,longandthicklashes,andperfectlyshapedexpressivebrows.Her
skinwasnotasfirmasithadoncebeen,softnow,buthercomplexionwasstillflawless,
and the minimal makeup and classic jewelry gave an overall perception of an aging,
thoughstillgorgeous,memberofroyalty.Soyes,Ihadnoticedherempiricalbeauty,but
morethanthat,herkindregardformybrotherwhenIfirstarrivedatthevilla.Clearly,she
likedhim.

When Inés reached across the table to take my hand, I took hers quickly, without

question.

“Youarenotlikeyourbrother.”

“Butyoulikehim.”

“Ifeltsorryforhim.”

“Whysorry?”

“He is such a little mouse and my son is a tiger. I worried that he would be either

steppedonordevoured,eachandeveryday.”

“Ithinkhe’stougherthanhelooks.”

“No, he is not,” Inés apprised me. “And I worried even more for him as I watched

Miguel’sinterestinhimwane.”

“What?No.They’regonnagetmarried.”

“Oh,no,”shescoffedwithashakeofherhead.“Atigerdoesnotmatewithamouse,

onlyanothertiger.”

“Well,Ithinkinthisinstance,Miguelwasgoingtomakeanexception.”

“Mysondoesnotmakeexceptions,buthewouldnothaveto,inyourcase.”

“I’msorry?”

“Youarenotatiger,”shemused,“butyouareacatnonetheless.”

“AmI?”Isnickered,havingfuntalkingtoher.

She laughed, and the sound, deep and rich, made me smile. “You are beautiful—a

panthercomparedtothelambthatDalvonis.”

“I’veneverbeencalledajunglecatbefore,”Iteased.

Inésshookherhead.“ItisthetruthIspeak.IfDalvonwereheretoday,myconniving

sonanddaughterwouldhavetakenmefromheretouseasleverageagainstMiguel,who
wouldnotevenhaveknownIwastakenuntilhegotbackfromhisbusinesstrip.”

“Hedoesalotoftraveling,huh?”

“Yes,butevenwhenheishome,helivesinthehouseinValencia,nothere.Ithinkhe

staysawaybecauseofyourbrother.”

“I’msorry?”

“Your brother does not help Miguel entertain when he is home, will not meet his

business associates, and will not oversee the companies here on the island that Miguel
wouldlikehimtosimplycheckinon.”

“He’snotgoodwiththatstuff.He’sbetterone-on-onewiththeguyheloves.”

“DalvonpreferredtogototheclubswithMiguelthantostayhome.”

“Clubbing’sfun,”Isaid,justtobesayingsomething.Ihadn’tbeenclubbinginyears.

EvenwhenIgottotheisland,toIbiza,andeventhoughIlovedtranceandtechnomusic,
Dalvonhadn’tbeenabletodragmeoutwithhim.Iwasdonewiththescene,mydancing

daysfinishedafterIgotmyundergraddegree.Ipreferredwalkingthroughtown,eatingat
thecafésthere,strollingthebougainvillea-litteredstreets,andsoakinginthehistoryand
culture.

“Thatisgood,butMiguelneedsapartner,yes?Notanornament.”

Imadeanoiseofagreement.“Well,hopefullytheycanworkitout.”

“Idonotknow,Hudson,asevenDalvon’sloveformysonhasnevergivenhimthe

strengthyoushowedsoeffortlesslytoday.Andnowmyson’shouseisputinordersimply
byyourword.”

“Well,byDuenaTorres’sword,”Iamended.

“No. Even though that woman is a lioness, it was you who she saw and heard and

wantedtoserve.Shesteppedforwardforyoualone.Itisyoushewantstoworkfor.”

“Well,itwon’tbemeforlong,”Iadvised.

Inés’ssmileborderedonevil.“Onlytimewilltell,yes?”

Iwasgoingtoargue,butitseemedpointless.Sheobviouslyhadanideainherhead,

thoughwhy,Icouldn’tsay.Clearly,IwasnotthebrotherwhobelongedinIbizawiththe
billionaire,butI’ddiscoverwheremybrotherhadgoneandreturneverythingtonormal.I
justneededamomentofquiettogethimonthephoneandfigureoutwhatthehellwas
going on. Everything would be cleared up soon, I was just certain of it. Because really,
whoranawayfromIbiza?

ChapterTwo

“YOU’REWHAT?”Ibellowedatmybrotheroverthephone.“Haveyoulostyourfuckin’
mind?”

“Deepbreaths,”Dalvonsuggested.

Igrowled.

“Ifthingsdon’tworkouthowI’mhoping,”hesaidhesitantly,“thenI’llbeback.”

Iwasrepeatingmyself,butIdidn’tcare.“Haveyoulostyourfuckingmind?”

“Calmdown.”

“Iamcalm!”

“Youneedmoresleep.”

“Ihadenough,andspeakingofthat,”Ibarked.“I’veneverpassedoutfromdrinking

beforeinmylife.”

“Yeah,Iknow,”hesaidsheepishly.

“What’dyougiveme?”

“Justsomethingtomakeyourelax.”

“Youdruggedme?”Myvoicerosenearlythreeoctavesinhorror.“Yourownbrother?

Doyouknowwhatcouldhavehappened?”

“Oh,giveitarest.Idruggedyouinapalatialvillafilledwithpeopleandevenanon-

sitenurse.Iwasinmoredangergettingonanairplanethanyouwereroofiedinmyking-
sizedbedonsilksheets.”

“Howcouldyoustrandmehere?”

“Just—comeon,Hud—thelifethere,thevilla,itwasalljusttoomuch.”

I was both incredulous and livid at the exact same time. “Are you kidding? How

couldlivinglifeinthelapofluxurybetaxing?”

“Becauseitwasn’tme,”hemuttered.

“Then you should have told Miguel that you wanted out, and you could’ve come

hometolivewithme.”

“Idon’twanttolivewithyou;IwanttolivewithWill.”

“Willwho?”Iaskedautomatically.

“Thinkaboutit.”

Wait.Whatdidhesay?

“AndWillsaidifIgotherefromthere,he’dknowIwasseriousandthathe’dwantto

livewithmetoo.”

“I’msorry,areyoutalkingaboutmyWill?”

“He’snotyoursanymore,”Dalvonhuffedpetulantlyonhisend.

Mybrainwasgoingtoexplode.“What?”Iyelled.“Areyouhigh?Youcan’tlivewith

myfuckin’ex-boyfriend!Idon’tlivewithhim,sohowthehellareyougoingto?”

Heclearedhisthroat.“We’vebeentalking.”

Iwasgoingtopassout,soinsteadofdoingthat,Ifloppeddownhardontheantique

couch.Thedamnthinghadnogiveatall.

“It is terrible,” Duena said as she walked into the living room of the master suite

DalvonsharedwithMiguel.

“What is?” I asked, covering the phone to look up at her. The interruption helped

morethansheknew;shewaskeepingmefromhavingananeurysmrightthere.

“Allthefurnitureinthisvillaishorrible,”shesaid.Hervoicethathadthewarmthof

hernativelanguageofCatalaninitdrippedwithjudgment.“I—what?”Shestoppedwhen
shesawmesmiling.

“Nothing,goon.”

“Something,”sheinsisted.

“Ijustlikelisteningtoyourvoice.Icouldlistentoyourecitethephonebookandit’d

begood.”

Hereyesnarrowed.

“I’mnothittingonyou.”

“Oh,yes,Iknow.”

Ishrugged.“Goon,sorryIinterrupted.”

She cleared her throat. “As I was saying, all the furniture is either something like

that”—sheindicatedthecouchIwasonwithawaveofherhand—“gildedpiecesfroma
fewcenturiesagoorultramodernchicthatisutterlylifeless.Ipreferthefurnishingsinmy
quarterstoanythingintherestofthismuseum.”

“Sofixit,then.”

ThelookIgotwasamixofuncertaintyandmistrust.

“No,really.”Iinsisted.“Changeit.WhenareyouexpectingMiguelbackhere?”

“Inthreemonths,perhapsfour.”

“Well,let’schangeitandblameDal.What’shegonnado,tellonus?”

Shenoddedslowly.“MigueldidgiveDalvonfreereintomakethevillahisown,as

thisishisprimaryresidence.”

Iwentbacktothephone.“Thisvillaisyours?”Isnappedatmybrain-deadbrother.

“Technically,yes,”headmitted.“ThemansioninValencia,theestateinTuscany,the

châteauinSaint-MoritzallbelongexclusivelytoMiguel,butthevillaismine.”

Imovedthephonefrommymouth.“Okay,babe,let’sdothis.”

Hersurprisewasapparent.

“Shit,I’msorry.I’mreallybadaboutthat,andI’m—”

“Youareforgiven,”Duenasaid,hervoicebreathyasshesmiledatme.“AndmayI

say,HudsonBarber,youareveryeasytolike.”

“Well,that’sgood.”

“So,IwanttobringIbiza—thecolors,theease,theromance—intothehouse,ifthat

isallright?”

“Yes,good.Dothat.”

She gave me a nod and then came closer. “Tomorrow morning, I have made

arrangementsforyoutomeetthemanageroftherestaurantCaravan,andforyoutothen
gototherealestateofficeandmeetthemanagerthere,andfinallytoElSueño.Theyareat
ten,noon,andsevenatnight,respectively.Iamsorryitissolatetoseetheclubpersonnel,
buttheydonotevenwakeupbeforefiveintheafternoon.”

“WhywouldIdothat?”

“Iamsorry?”

“WhywouldIgotalktoanyone?”

“Youmustputeverythinginorderherebeforeyouleave,yes?”

“Ido?WhydoI?”

“Areyoutalkingtome?”

“Shuddup,” I ordered my worthless brother, who was still on the phone. “Sorry, go

on,”IproddedDuena.

“YoumustfixwhatyoucanbecauseyouarecapableandDalvonwasnot,”shesaid

flatly,likeitwasalldecided.

“Honey,Ineedtogethome,”Itoldher.

“Ofcourse.After.”

“Crap,”Igroaned.

Shechuckled.“Iwillmakeyouadeal.Yougoandmeetallthesepeopletomorrow,

andIwillallowyoutousealltheridiculousendearmentsyoulike.”

Iexhaledsharply.

“Iwillaccompanyyou.”

“ButI’mleavingsoon.”

“How?”

Itwasagoodquestionsincemyfucktardbrotherhadtakenbothmypassportandhis.

Speakingof….

“Whydidyoutakemypassport?”Isnarledintothephone.

“BecauseIneedtimewithWill.”

“Andwhycouldn’tyoudothatwithyourownfuckin’passport?”

“Ineedyouthere.”

“Explainthat,please.”

“Areyousureyou’redonetalkingtowhoeverthatis?”

“I’mtalkin’toDuena.”

“Ihaven’ttheslightestideawhothatis.”

Icoveredthemicrophone.“Howlong’veyouworkedhere?”Iaskedthewomanwho

wastryingreallyhardtotanglethingsupforme.

“Fiveyears,”sherepliedcoolly.

Iwentbacktomybrother.“She’sbeenherelongerthanyouhave.”

“She’sastaffmember,right?”

“Yeah.”

“Forcrissakes,Hud,Idon’ttalktothestaff!”

“Ohno?”

“HewouldnotknowwhoIam,”Duenachimedin.

Iglancedather,whereshewasperchedonthesofalikeaballerinaatrest.Gorgeous

andgracefulwiththeheartofalioness,asInéshadsaid,Iwonderedatthatmomentwhat
wasupwithher,relationshipwise.“Areyoumarried?”

“Excuseme?”

“Idon’tseearing.”

“ThatisbecauseIamnotmarried,”shesaid,gloweringatme.

“Whynot?”

Hermouthfellopen.

“Nevermind.”Istoppedmyself.“You’regonnasuemeifIkeeptalking.”

Thatdidit.Shegavemeahugesmile.

“TellmeaboutWill,”Igrousedatmybrother.

“Oh!”Hisvoicebrightened,goingallsilvery.“We’vebeentalkingforawhile,since

youtwobrokeupwhat,elevenmonthsorsoago.”

Fuck.

“IsaidhowsorryIwas,becausewhenI’dmethim,I’dfalleninlovewithhimjusta

littleandhesaidthathe’dfoundmealmostirresistible.”

Icouldactuallyfeelthebilerisefrommystomach.

“He’sbeentellingmeaboutmedschoolandhislatehours,andhowyouwerenever

home when he was, and how much he’d love a home-cooked meal and someone to be
there,emotionally,forhimandtolovehimlikehedeserves.”

“Thatissuchalineofcrap,”Iexploded.“Wewerebothgoingtoschool,Dal,what

thefuck?”

“Yes,butmedicalschoolismuchharderthangradschool.”

“Howthehellwouldyouknow?”

Dalvonignoredme.“SoIaskedhimhowlongit’dbeensincehehadablowjob,and

hesaidthatyouguysneverhadtimeforsex,andIsaidthatI’dmaketimeforanythinghe
wantedtodotome,and—”

“Idon’tjustgotoschool.Iwork,too,youfuckin’selfishprick!”

“Doingwhat?”

Couldhebemorecondescending?“Iworkasanadvertisingandpromotionsmanager

forasmallindie––”

“IjustthinkWillneedstobethemostimportantthinginsomeone’slifeand––”

“Whatthehell,Dal?IthoughtyouwereinlovewithMiguel?You’vebeentalkingto

Willlongerthanyou’veevenknownhim!”

“Yeah,Iknow,butWillandIwerejustgettingtoknoweachother.”

“SoMiguelwasyoursafetynet?”Iwasappalled,angryforamanIdidn’tevenknow,

lividthatmybrotherwouldtreathimthisway.

“No,Ikindoffellforhimbecausehe’ssohotandrich,andIthought—Imean…I

thinkIlikedhim.It’sjustthatthere’ssomanypeoplearoundhimallthetime,andtheyall
dothethingsIwantedto,andIthoughtthatthewholejet-settinglifestylewasforme,but
it’sreallyjust…not.Iwantahome,notavilla.”

“ThenyoutellhimyouwantoutandcometoBostonandshackupwithWill.”

“Youwouldn’thavecared?”heasked,theshockclearinhisvoice.

“No! Why the hell would I care? Will and I are over, have been for almost a year

now,and—Jesus,Dal,youdon’tcheatonamanlikeMiguel!”

“Ididn’tcheat!”

“You’remessagingWilldayandnight,talkingaboutfucking,andfallinginlovewith

him.That’scheating,asshole.”

“Isit?”

Myroarwasloud.

“Fine,” he huffed. “It was bad, but whatever, I just need you to smooth things out

withMiguelandfigureoutoneothersmallthing,sothat’swhyIleftyouthere.”

“What?”

“Icouldn’tsaygood-bye.Youdoitforme.”

“Oh,fortheloveofGod.”

“What?He’llbenicetoyou.Iwouldhaveneverbeenabletoenditfacetoface,and

thenIreallywouldhavecheatedand…it’sbetterthisway.”

“It’snotbetter,becauseI’mstrandedinIbiza!”Isaidindignantly.

“Isthatsobad?”

“Dal!”

“Stopyellingatme!I’llFedExyourpassportbackassoonasIcan,butrightnowI’m

outsideWill’sdoorandI’mreallynervous.”

“Whydidyoutakeyourpassporttoo?”

“Again,Ididn’twantyoutobeabletoleaveuntilyoufixedthingswithMiguel.”

“Ihavealifetogetbackto,youshit!Ihaveschoolandajoband––”

“It’sfine.Ialreadywenttoyourapartment;everything’sinorder,thoughIwillsay,

yourplaceistiny.”

“It’s a one bedroom over a Chinese restaurant. It’s smaller than your walk-in closet

here!Ofcourseit’ssmall!”

“Youmightwanttothinkaboutgettingamaid.”

“I’mgoingtomurderyou,doyougetthat?”

“Ithinkyouneedtomovetosomethingbetter.”

“Ican’taffordbetter!”

“WhenIgetmyseverancepackagefromMiguel,I’ll—”

“You cheated on him!” I accused, furious all over again. “You’ll be lucky if he lets

mebringyourclothes!”

“Oh, I don’t want any of my clothes, and like they’d work in Boston anyway. For

crissakes,Hud,useyourhead.”

“Dalvon!”

“God,what?”

“IhaveclassonMonday!”

“Oh.Well,I’llgoforyou.”

IstoodupsoIcouldpacetheroom.“Youdon’tknowanythingaboutbusinessor—”

“I’msureWillcanhelpme.”

“Will’sinmedschool,idiot!”

“ThenI’llwithdrawyouforthesemester.”

“It’sgradschool,asshole!Youdon’twithdrawforasemesterwhenyou’rethisclose

tobeingdone.”

“I’msurethey’llletyou.”

“I have to go continuously for my student loans to remain active. I can’t afford to

startpayingthem.”

“Just tell them you need one semester off. We both know it’s not the end of the

world.”

“You’resuchaselfishass,”Ichokedout,shaking,Iwassomad.

“Andreally,whatpreciselywillanMBAgiveyou?”

“Fuck.You,”Ishouted.“I’veworkedmyassoffto—”

“JusttellMigueltofixit,”heinterrupted.“Hecan.It’sprobablysomethingyoucan

completeonline,andhe—”

“Miguelisnotmyboyfriend,he’syours!”

“Listen,I’lljust—”

“Don’tdoanythingwithmyschoolyouunderstand?Don’tgonearthere,don’tcall,

donothing—Idon’twantyoufuckingitup.”

“Fine.Iwon’tgiveitanotherthought,”hesaidimperiously.

Likethatwouldbehardforhim.“IsweartoGod,you’rethemostselfishpersonI—”

“Holdon,I’mputtingyouonspeaker.”

“Whatthehellareyou—”

“Andfortherecord,Miguel’snotmyboyfriendany—oh,”hemurmured.“Hi.”

“Dal?”Myex-boyfriendasked,soundinglikeheneverhadinallthetimeI’dknown

him.Ihadnoideahisvoicecouldgetquitethathoarseandsexy.Thesoundwasagood
oneonhim;evenIhadtoadmitthat.

“Hi.”Iheardmybrothersigh.“I’mhere,justlikeIsaidIwouldbe.”

William Meyer made something between a whimper and a growl, and then I heard

mybrothermoanrightbeforehewaskissed.

Therewasnomistakingthatsoundandthehaltingbreathsthatfollowed.

“Oh Dal, baby,” he rasped, “I hope you brought your stuff, ’cause you’re never

leaving.”

Iwasstartled.IhadnoideathatWill,theguyI’dbeeninarelationshipwithfortwo

years,couldbethatpossessive.NotthatI’deverlethimactthatwaywithme,orallowed
himtotellmewhereIcouldgoorwhatIcoulddo.Iwasallaboutcontrol—sinceInever
had any when I was a child, I made up for it as an adult. It wasn’t anything new. I had
issues,Iwasawareofthatfact.Betweenhavingtobeinchargeandneverallowingmyself
to get attached because everyone left… eventually… I knew I was not a candidate for

commitment.

Foster care did that to you. It messed with your head, gave you trust issues and

abandonment issues and so much, much more baggage. But even knowing that, being
aware…changednothing.Ikeptpeopleatadistance;Dalvonclungtoeveryone,hoping
againsthopethatthistime,thispersonwouldkeephimandstickaround.Ihadneverlet
Will close, keeping him emotionally at arm’s length, and our relationship had imploded
becauseofit.

But now, listening, I realized to what extent I’d changed him. Apparently Will’s

demeanorwheninlove—anditwascrystalclear,evenoverthephone,thathewas—was
notaboutdistancebutinsteadaboutdominance.HewantedDalvontostay.

“Idon’t want torush you or—”I heard a kiss,then a hitchin Dalvon’s breath.“—

forceyoutokeepmewithyoujustbecauseI’m—”

“No,” Will ground out, and I could hear how ragged his voice was. “We belong

together,baby,Itwasalwayssupposedtobeyou.That’swhyIcouldnevergetHudsonto
stay,becauseIhadthewrongbrother.”

ThewhimperfromDalvonwasirritating,butIguessednottoWill.

Christ.

“Youweremineallalong.Iwasjusttoostupidtoseeit.”

“So,”Dalsaidinasmokywhisper,“you’llkeepme?”

“Forever,startingnow,”Willpromisedandthensuddenlychuckled.“Oh,baby,your

phone’son.Yougottaturnthis—”

Andthennothing.

It took me a moment to realize I’d been hung up on, and when I did, I tried to call

Dalvonback.

Ileftmessages.

Itexted.

IthencalledWill,leftmessagesonhisphone,andthentextedaswell.Butfromhow

I’dbeencutoff,IfiguredtheyweregettingitonandwouldhavenotimeformeforGod
knewhowlong.AndevenifWilllistenedtohismessages,wouldhecare?Itwashopeless
unlessIwantedtoexplaintothenicepeopleattheembassythatmybrotherhadtraveled
totheUSwithmystolenpassport.Icouldonlyimaginewhatkindofshitstormthatwould
bringdownonhishead.WasIreadytodothattohim?

“So?”

Iliftedmyhead,surprisedthatDuenawasstillthere.“I’mstrandedinIbiza.”

“Youcoulddoworse,”shepointedout.

Iletmyheadfallbackandcoveredmyfacewithmyhands.Inthatposition,without

moving,itfeltlikeIwasrecliningonacinder-blockbench.“Thisreallyistheworstcouch
I’veeverhadthemisfortunetositon,”Igrumbled.

“Well,wewillfixthat,bombón,”shepurred.

ImovedmyhandssoIcouldseeher.“Thatwassomethingkindasexist,huh?”

Shenoddedquickly,grinningwide.

“You’resupposedtofeelsorryforme.”

“ButhowcanI,whenIfeelsoblessedtohaveyou?”

“Wasthatadigtoo?”

“Come,”shecoaxed.“Letusgetyousomecaféconleche.”

Iwhined.

“Tomorrowisanotherday,dulzura.”

“Igottagethome.”

“Yes,yes,Ipromisewewillmakeaplantomorrow.”

Coffeesoundedreallygood.

ChapterThree

PABLOWASatmydoorthemomentIopeneditthenextmorning.Crossingmyarms,I
waitedforwhateveritwashewanted.

“Iwanttobehereandworkforyou,butyourbrother…hegivesnodirectionsandso

whenseñorGarcía’ssiblingscame…Iwasataloss.”

Thatwasfair,andatthemoment,mybrotherwasnotatthetopofmylist,whatwith

himstrandingmeinaforeigncountryandall.“Dalvon’saspinelessweenie,”Ispat.He
had,asofyet,notreturnedanyofmyphonecalls.

Helookedconfused.

“What?”

“Weenie?”

Apparentlynotawordthattranslated.“He’sanasshat,”Iclarified.

Thatone,withtheassinit,seemedtomakemoresensetohimsoafteramoment,he

nodded.“Iwouldhavetoagree.”

“MiguelGarcíaabigfanofguyslikethat?”Iaskedsnidely.

Pablocoughed.“Ithink‘submissive’isthewordyouarelookingfor.”

Igrunted.

“Willyouacceptmyapology?”

Hewasasweetguy,adecentguy,notrealstrong,olderthanmyowntwenty-sixbyat

least five years, but he had the same thing going for him that my brother did—he was
reallyfuckin’pretty.Darkhair,darkskin,almostambercoloredeyes.Iwasafan.Plus,ifI
couldmakehimmyally,thatwasbetterthanscrewinghimover.

“Duena’sincharge.Youain’tgettin’yourjobback,butdoyouknowanythingabout

therestaurantthatMiguelwantedDalvontooversee?”

His face lit up. “I do, yes. And did you know I have a background as a hotel

conciergeandarestaurantmanager?”

“No,sir,Ididnot,”Isaidslyly,smilingslowly.Hewastryingtomakehimselfuseful,

andIlikedthat.

He swallowed hard, I saw him. “You remind one of a jaguar stalking its prey. Has

anyoneevertoldyouthatbefore?”

Uponoccasion.LastnightwhenInéshadsaidso.“Cometakearidewithme.”

“Itwouldbemypleasure.”

SharingthecarwithPabloandDuena,abeautifulmanandastunningwoman,was

nottheworstwaytostartaday.

ITTOOKhalfanhourtogetfromCalaLlenya,wherethevillawas,toSantJoan,where
therestaurantwas.FromtheMaseratiKubang,asmaller-endluxurySUV,Icouldseethe
forests of pine, the rolling hills, and the orchards of fig, almond, and plum trees. We
stopped at a roadside vendor and picked up olives—green, black, Greek, and others I
didn’t know the names of. Some were stuffed with ricotta, and those were my favorite.
The countryside was gorgeous, and I marveled at how blue the sky was and told Duena
howluckyshewastoliveinheaven.

“Youliveheretoo,”Pabloremindedme.

“No, I’m just visiting. Hopefully, if I do a good job until Miguel gets here, maybe

he’llbuymeatickethome.”

“Perhapshe,too,willwantyoutostay,”Duenasuggested.

“Whoelsewantsmetostay?”

“Ido,”shesaidimpishly.

“AsdoI,”Pablochimedin.

“ButIfiredyouyesterday.”

“Andgavemerenewedpurposetoday,”herepliedaffably.“Ithinkbecauselifedoes

notcomewithdirections,whenpeopleofferyousome,youshoulddowelltolisten.”

“Butwhatifthepersongivingthemtoyouisfullashit?”

“Andhowwillyouknowunlessyoutry?”

Right then I understood why Pablo had been hired in the first place. “Kind of an

optimist,areyou?Glasshalffullandallthat?”

“Somewouldsayyes.”

“Iwouldsayyes.”

“Heis,”Duenaagreed.“Itisafinequality.Hehasmany.”

“Performingunderpressurenotoneofthem,though,huh?”

“Pleasegivemeanotherchancetoimpressyou.”

“We’llsee,”Isaidcryptically,becausefatewouldeitherallowitornot.He’dprove

hisworthornot,dependingonwhatwefoundatCaravan.

When we got there, I did the whole secret shopper Undercover Boss spy thing and

wentintotherestaurantexpectingtofindtheworstsince,accordingtoDuena,theplace
waslosingmoneyhandoverfist.Anditshouldn’thavebeen,becauseeventhoughitwas
onthenortheasternsideoftheisland—awayfromthelegendarynightlifethatrockedSan
Antoni’sSunsetStripontheWest—thescenery,tranquility,andopenairmarketsshould

havecontributedtothespot’sappeal.Butasitwas,Caravanwasintrouble.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that the issue was not with the genuinely kind

though ineffective manager, the dedicated and proficient waitstaff, or the flirtatious but
conscientiousbartenders,butinsteadwiththechef.Ihadn’ttastedsuchhorriblefoodsince
I’dcrossedthecountryonaGreyhoundbusrightafterIgraduatedfromhighschool.I’d
wantedtoseeAmericabeforeIwenttocollege,andithadbeeneye-openingformetosee
the way a lot of people lived and share stories with even more of them. Dalvon had
declined to join me. He was too busy modeling in Paris at the time. My life could have
beeneasierifI’deverallowedhimtohelpmefinancially,butIneverwantedtotakewhat
washis.ItwaswhyIwasreticenttostepintohislifeandchangeeverything,butsincethe
chances were slim to none that he was coming back, and since Miguel had tasked him
withtherunningoftherestaurant,alongwithotherpursuits….

I had identified the problem: the truly horrible chef. So I went into the kitchen to

speaktohim.

Thewaythemanheldthewaitressbetweenthedoorandtherefrigeratorwithhisbig

body,cagingherthereashepawedather,sickenedme.

“Whatthehellisthis?”Idemanded.

Duena followed me in along with Dalvon’s—now my—two guards, Eduardo and

Joaquín.Afteryesterday’sentertainmentwithInés,theyaskedtostaywithme.Thethree
of us had hit it off. They appreciated what I’d done, keeping Inés at the villa, and I
appreciatedthattheywantedtokeepmesafe—thoughfromwhat,Ihadnoidea.Similarto
myinstructionstoAnita,Imadesuretoletthemknowthesuitstheywerewearingwhen
theyshowedupwerenotacceptable.Sonowwestoodinthekitchen,andamongthefour
ofus,Duenawastheonlyonewholookedlikeshewasworking.Shewouldn’tditchher
suit. Joaquín, Eduardo, and I were in shorts, polos, and sneakers. And while most
bodyguardsweresolid-wall-of-muscletypeswithnonecks,myguysweretall,yes,built
powerfulandbroad,yes,butmorelikesoldiersandlesslikelinebackers.Asaresult,we
alllookedlikeweweregoingfishinglater.

“Getout!”ChefMarcoAndraderoared.

“You’resofired,”Iinformedhimmatter-of-factly.

Hewhirledtofaceme,grabbedaknifefromthemagnetickniferack—itwasreally

the most beautiful, industrial-looking, up-to-date kitchen I’d ever been in—and came at
me.

I’dbrawledinclubs,inthestreet,andinfosterhomes,soIwasready,buthello,that

waswhattheguys,myguys,weretherefor.Pluskeepingmecompanyinthecar.

EduardomovedwayfasterthanIthoughthecould,andpoorMarcowouldhavebeen

eatingtheseamlessquartzsurfaceifJoaquínhadn’tspecificallysaidtonotlethimbleed
on my floor. “It will be a big mess,” he grumbled to his cohort, gesturing all over the
immaculatelymaintainedtop-of-the-linekitchen.“Hudson’splaceneedstostayclean.”

Mine.

“It’snotmyrestaurant,”Iexplained.

“Today it is,” Joaquín explained. He turned to Eduardo. “Take him out”—he

indicatedMarcowithatipofhishead—“andputhimontheroad,”headvised.

Eduardogaveaboredshrug,andoutheandAndradewent.Duenaboltedafterthem,

blonde ponytail swinging, running in the four-inch Christian Louboutin leopard-print
heels.Itwasimpressivethatshecouldnotonlywalk,butdash.

Iwalkedovertothepapertowelrackandrippedoneoff,thenslowly,carefully,not

wantingtoscarethewaitress,heldthesheetout.Shetookit,gazeneverleavingmeasshe
dabbedathereyesandblewhernose.

Poorlittlething.“What’syourname,dear?”

“Antonia,”shebarelygotout.

“I’mHudson.”

Shenoddedevenastherewasmoresniffling,haltingbreath,andhairfiddlingwhileI

waited,quietly,asshegotherselftogether.Luckyitwasn’tacheappapertowel,instead
thegoodabsorbentkindthatwouldn’tsimplyturntotattersinherhands.

Leaning back against the counter, I crossed my arms, regarding her, and after a

moment,shetookastepcloser,thenanother.

“Youokay,Antonia?”Iaskedsoftly.

Shenodded,freshtearswellingupnowthatheradrenalinerushandthefight-or-flight

responsewereover.

“Ithinkweshouldcallthepoliceandhave—”

“Oh, no,” she pleaded with me, reaching out and putting a light hand on my bicep.

“Youhavealreadydoneenough,firinghim.Thatwassokind.”

“ThatwastheveryleastIcoulddo,”Iapprised,remainingstill,hopingIwasoozing

calm,notwantingtostartleheroraddamomentmoreoffeartoherday.

“Butnowwewillallbeoutofwork,”shesaidbetweensniffles,tearsstilldripping

down her cheeks, not running as they were, slowing, but not yet stopped. “And it is all
because of me. The chef, he paws all the girls. We just have to be quicker than him or
nevercomeintothekitchenalone.”

“That’sridiculous,”Igrowled,“andnobody’sgonnabeoutofworkbecauseIhavean

idea.”

Shestudiedmyface.

“Seriously,likeareallygoodone.”Isaid,grinningather.Iwasexcited;ithadhitme

inseconds.“Watchmefixthis.”

Her face said I was nuts, but that was okay. She didn’t know me. She had no idea

what I could or couldn’t do or who I had on my payroll who maybe wanted to do
somethingwithallhermanyculinarytalentsbesidescookforonepersonatavilla.

No,shehadnoidea.

DUENA LEANED forward, one elbow resting on the table, her chin on her fist as she
regardedme,eyeshalfnarrowed.

“What?”Iasked.

“Howdidyouknow?”

“HowdidIknowwhat?”

“Youhaveonlybeenherefortwoweeks,andforallthattimeexceptyesterdayand

today,yourbrotherhadyoueverywhereonthisislandbutatthevilla.”

“I’mmissingyourquestion.”

“HowdidyouknowthatAnitawouldwanttobetheheadchefofthisrestaurant?”

Ileanedbackinmychair,watchingJoaquínandEduardodevourthetwofullslabsof

porkribsAnitahadmadethem.

“Hudson.”

IreturnedmyattentiontoDuena.“Shelovestocook,right?”

“Yes.”

“But just cooking for me and, eventually, when I go, Miguel, isn’t really enough. I

mean,howoftenisheevenatthevilla?”

“Hespendsverylittletimethere,lesssonowthathemovedyourbrotherin.”

“Whichisawholeotherproblem,butseriously,Anitaneededafull-timegig.”

“And Pablo?” she asked, watching as the former overseer of the villa seated

customers, ran drinks, and complimented his waitstaff much to their absolute, swooning
delight.Thewomenweremesmerizedbyhim,themenwereappreciativethathewasout
thereonthefloorworkingalongsidethem,andthecustomerswerecharmedcompletely.

“Pablo can make this restaurant huge if he wants to. His picture can be in all the

papers—there’llbePRspotsandhe’llbethefaceofCaravan.Andthebiggeritgetsand
the more press he gets, how much will he love the restaurant and be loyal to seeing it
grow?”

“Hewillbeveryloyal.”

“Exactly,”Isaidsmugly.“HissuccesswillbewrappedupwithCaravan,andit’llbe

onemorethingoffMiguel’splate.”

“Youhavethisallfiguredout.”

“ThisIsawamileaway.”

“Sawwhat?”

“Everyone in the villa was stagnating. What the hell are they all supposed to do if

therearenopeopletotakecareof?”

“Iamsorry?”

“It’slikeinBeautyandtheBeast.”

“Qué?”

“Thatwas‘what,’right?”

Shenoddedlikeshewastired.

“Rememberinthemovie—alltheservantsweregoingbananasbecausetherewasno

onetotakecareof?Theyneededtheretobeguests.”

“YouwatchalotofDisney,doyou?”

“Don’t knock Disney,” I warned. “When you’re a little kid with no real home, that

happilyeverafterstufftheyselllooksreallygood.”

“Iguess.AndIrememberthemovie,butwhatdoesthathavetodowith—”

“Livinginthevillaisjustlikethat.”

“Howso?”

“YoualreadytoldmethatDalneverbroughtanyonehome,heneverhelpedMiguel

entertainthere,andMiguelhimselfisneveraround.Soeveryonebasicallystandsaround,
thumbsuptheirasses,beingboredoutoftheirminds.”

Shewasstudyingme.

“Thinkaboutit.Howmuchwereyouthinkingaboutquittingbeforeyesterday?”

Shedidn’tanswer.

“Oh,comeon,whywouldIholditagainstyou?”

“Fine.Quiteabitistheanswer.”

“See?”

“Yes, but you cannot simply empty the villa of personnel and put them to work in

otherplaces.”

“No,butIwasthinkingthatyouandIcouldcutthevillainhalf.”

“Excuseme?”

“It’s divided now. There are two distinct entrances—I noticed that last week—one

from town and one from the beach, and it would be easy enough, I think, to rent out
whateversideyoulikeless.”

“Yoursuite—”

“Dalvon’ssuite,”Icorrected.

“Dalvonisnevergoingtolive—”

“It’shisuntilMiguelsaysdifferent,right?”

Shemadeanexasperatedsoundbutdeferredtome.“Sí,Dalvon’ssuiteisintheeast

wingasaremine,Anita’s,andInés’s.”

“Okay,somoveeveryoneelseoutofthewestsideofthevilla,andlet’schangesome

things,giveitanupdate—bringIbizainside,likeyousaid—andrentitout.”

“Noonewillwanttostaythere;itisawayfromallthenightlife.”

“Familieswill.Moviestarswhowanttolieonaprivatebeachandworkontheirtans

will.Andpeoplelookingtohavearetreatwill.It’sastunningvilla,andjuststandingon
thebalcony,watchingthesunset,allthepinkandpurpleonthewater,isworththecostof
admission.”

“Idonotknow.WhatifMigueldoesnotwantthevillabrokenup?”

“Whywouldhecare?HelivesmostlyinValencia,right?”

Shechewedonherbottomlip.

“It’sDal’svilla,isn’tit?”

“Yes,thatistrue.”

“Migueltoldhimtooverseethebusinessesandmakechanges,didn’the?”

Shenodded.

“Therealestatebusinesshereiswindingdownfortheseason.Doesn’titendthefirst

weekofOctober?”

“Mid-Octobernow,butyes,”sheconcurred.

“Sothepeoplewhowanttoparty,allthecollegekidsandtwentysomething-year-olds

will all head off the island, but people who want to enjoy the weather and the shopping
andwalkingaroundtoseethesightsandeatsomegreatfoodarestillgoingtopourin.”

“Whatisyourpoint?”

“Ithinkyouknowwhatmypointisalready.You’reaverysmartperson.”

Shegrunted.“Youcansaywoman.Iwillnothityou.”

“Yeah?”

“Ipromise.”

“Okay,you’reaverysmartwoman.”

“Yes,Iam.”

“So you know that basically all those vacation rentals, condos, cottages, and beach

bungalows that everyone else has, along with Miguel, are going to be cheaper once the
season’sover.”

“Yes.”

“Butifwerenovatethevilla,whywouldthateverbecheap?”

The gears were turning; I could tell from the way she was looking at me,

thoughtfully,consideringmywords.

“Andwe’daddinthevalueofthestaff,theaccesstotheprivatebeach,theboat,and

thecarstodropthemoffanywhereontheislandandpickthembackup.Allthatwouldbe
worthextra.”

“Yes.”

“Plusthevillaitself,becauseit’samazing.”

“Itis,isitnot?”

Inodded.

“Perhapsyouwouldliketostaytherelongterm.”

Ileanedforwardandlockedmygazewithhers.“I’mnotthekept-boytype,andI’d

thinkyou’dgetthataboutmeafteronlyoneday.”

“Yes,”sheconcededafteramoment.

“AndifMiguelbuysmeaticketoffthisrock,I’llpayhimbackeverypenny.”

“Perhapsifwedowell,coverthecostoftherenovationsandmakeenoughprofit,you

canbuyyourownticketbeforeheevenreturns.”

“That’dbeperfect.”

“Perhapsforyou,”shesighed.“Idonotknowthatitissuchagoodthingfortherest

ofus.”

“I—”

“Oh,”Pablosaidexcitedlyashebreezeduptothetable.“Suchagoodideayouhad,

Hudson,totakefreesamplesoftheCubansandwichestothemarketandpassthemout.”

Ismiledupathimasheputahandonmyback,rubbingbetweenmyshoulderblades

withoutevenrealizingit,elatedtoactuallybedoingsomethingandseeinginstantresults
fromhisgifts.Hewasaguywhoranonpraiseandpleasingpeople.Hehadtohavebeen
slowlyshrivelingupatthevilla.

“Look at all the families—the kids are devouring the croquetas, empanadas, and

patatasbravas.IalreadymovedtwoofthewaitersintothekitchentohelpAnitacook,and
Ihavetwomoreplating.”

Anita would like that, having boys in the kitchen with her, like the sons she never

had,aslongastheywererespectfuland—

“Andtheyalladoreheralready.”

Iwasrelieved.ThatwaswhatI’dneededtohear.Thatshewasappreciated.

“Iwillberightback.Ineedtohelpthebartenders.”

“Takeyourtime,”Icalledout.“We’llbehere.”

He waved over his head to let me know he’d heard me, then jumped behind the

bustlingbar,muchtothereliefofeveryoneworkingthere.

Antonia,thewaitressI’dsavedfromthechef,ranbyinablurandthen,onapparent

afterthought,doubledback,stopped,andwavedatmefromwhereshewas,justbecause.
ThesmileIgotlitherface.ItwascuteandIreturnedthewarmgesture.

“I asked her if she wanted to go home,” Duena commented, leaning closer so her

voice didn’t have to carry. “She said she wanted to stay here and support the team—

supportyou.”

“That’snice,huh?”

Shemadeanoiseofagreement.

“What?”

“Clearlyshefeelssafeherenow,withyouinchargeandPabloonsite.”

“I’mglad.”

Shewasstaring.“Thereisalineoutside,didyousee?”

“By tomorrow he’ll need hostesses to take reservations and seat people because the

waitstaffcan’tdoit.Also,seeaboutgettingthosepagersthatlightupwhenyourtableis
ready.”

SheflippedopenheriPadandbegantyping.

“Andlet’sinvitesomefoodandtravelbloggersfromValencia.”

“Yes,boss.”

“Don’tdothat.”

“Yes,Hudson,”sheamended,grinningatme.“MaybeyouwouldliketostayinIbiza

andbeMiguel’sdirectorofmarketing.”

“Idon’tthinkheneedsone,”Isaidseriously.“Andbesides,mydegreeisinbusiness

management,notmarketing.”

“Yes,but––”

“Butreally,oncethisrestaurantgetsrolling,it’llbelikeprintingmoneyinhere,and

therealestatecompanywiththeadditionofthevilla…please.It’sallgravy.”

Herfacescrunchedup,likeWhatthehellareyoutalkingabout?

“Gravy,likeeasy.”

Shedidn’tlookconvinced.

“It’sanexpression.”

“Ifyousayso.”

“Don’tyouthinktheseideaswillwork?”

“Ido,theyareallverygood.”

“That’sbecauseI’mbrilliant.”

She coughed on a laugh. “Yes, yes, trusting your brother not to steal your passport,

pretend to be you, and leave you stranded here—this was just another example of your
brilliance.”

“That actually wasn’t mine,” I teased, “but making the most of the opportunities

giventoyou—myfavoriteprofessorsaysthatthat’showtobesuccessful.”

“Hesoundslikeaverysmartman.”

“She.”

“Ah,”Duenasaid,chuckling,“soyouaresurroundedbysmartwomen,yes?”

Itookholdofherhandandsqueezedgently.“Yeah,IguessIam.”

Thehandsheputonmyfacetoldmetheverylastbarrierwasdownandwewerenow

officiallyfriends.Iwasmorethankfulthansheknew.Makingfriendshadneverbeeneasy
forme;mytrustissuesweremany.ButDuenaandIclicked,andIappreciatedherstrength
aswellasherkindness.Wemadeareallygoodteam.

“Hey,whathappenedtoChefAndrade?”

“EduardocalledAntonia’sfather.”

I glanced over at one of the two bodyguards sharing the table with us. “And?” I

asked.

Eduardowaschewing,sohejustgavemeaquickshakeofhishead.

Ichuckled.“Whatdoesthatmean?”

“Her father,” Joaquín said between sips of his beer, “he is one of the butchers in

town.”

“Uh-oh,”Isaiddramatically.

“Sí,”hesaid,grinningevilly.

“Isuspectwe’llneverseehimagain.”

“Iwouldagree.”Joaquínaddednonchalantly.

“Thankyou,”IsaidtoPabloasheputwhatlookedlikeoystersRockefellerdownin

front of us, along with two large ice-cold mugs of beer. Joaquín’s and Eduardo’s next
roundcamerightbehindwithanotherserver.“Hey.”

Duenalookedatmeovertherimofthebeerthatwasalmostasbigasshewas.

“IwantsomeonedrivingforAnita.Iwantherpickedupanddroppedoffeveryday,

andIwantthatpersonfreetorunerrandsforherordowhateversheneeds.”

“Youwanthertohaveanassistant.”

“Sí,”Iaffirmed,enjoyingherpixyishsmile.

“Iwillseetoit,”shesaid,againtypingintoheriPad.

“It’salottodoinoneday.”

“Foraman,Iamsureitwouldbe.”

Itwasgoingtobeathingwithus,Icouldtell.Butateasing,banteringrapportwas

notnecessarilyabadthing.

“Weneedtotalktocontractorstomorrow.”

“Ialreadyhaveitscheduled.”

“Good.”

“MayIaskaquestion,though?”

“Sure.”

“NowthatMiguelnolongerhasahousekeeper,whowilldothecookingforhimat

thevilla?”

“Areyoukidding?”

ThelookIgot,daringmetodazzleher,wascute.

“Inés.”

“Hismother?”Shewasflabbergasted.

“Ofcourse.She’sdyingtodoit,tocookforherson.Hethinksit’stoomuchtrouble,

andhedoesn’twanthertowork,butallhe’sreallydoneistakeawaysomethingsheloves
todo.”

“Haveyouaskedher?”

“Ofcourse.IcalledherwhenIcalledAnita.”

“Andsheishappy?”

“ShesaidIwassuchabother,andI’mmakingsomuchworkforher,andnowshe

hastofindallherknivesandbowlsandspices,andwhatapainIam,and—”

“Oh.Shelovesit,”shesighed.

Iarchedaneyebrow.

“Youthinkyouareveryclever.”

“She’slookingforherknives.OfcourseI’mclever.”

Wefellquietforaminute,bothofusdrinkingandeating.

“Idonotunderstandhim,”Duenasaid,soundingatouchfrustrated.

“Sorry?”

Hereyesmetmine.“Miguel.Idonotunderstandhim.”

“Inwhatway?”

“Why on Earth would he ever have had a man like your brother around when he

couldhavehadamanlikeyou?”

“Wedon’trunwiththesamecrowd,MiguelandI.We’veneveractuallymet.”

“Butnowhehasarareopportunitytochangehislife.”

“What’reyoutalkingabout?Ihopetobeouttaherebeforehegetsback.”

“Iknow.Itisapity.”

“Listen,youjustlikeme,isall,and—”

“So,anywordfromDalvontoday,oristhefuckfeststillprogressing?”Duenaasked

inarush,clearlyamused.

Herwordchoicesurprisedme.“Thatwasverycrass,”Isaidflatly.

She almost spit out her beer, but Eduardo thumped her on the back as Joaquín shot

me a scolding look. “You two, eat your scallops. The strawberry salsa on top is very
good.” Joaquín gestured at the platter Pablo had dropped off only seconds before.
ApparentlyAnitawantedtomakesureDuenaandIwereeating.

“We’re eating,” I groused. Duena dissolved into a fit of giggles I wouldn’t have

thoughtshewascapableof.“Andno,Ididn’thearfromhimbecause,yeah,I’msurethe
festivaloffuckingisstillprogressing.”

“Hey,” Eduardo took a turn chiding me, snapping his fingers to make sure I was

payingattention.“Hijomío,thisrestaurantisforfamiliesuntilten,sonoswearing.”

Thatdidit.Iactuallyspitoutmybeer,andDuenachokedonascallop.

“Incorrigible,”Joaquíngrumbledatbothofus.

Yes,weweredefinitelythat.

ChapterFour

THECLUBcalledElSueñowasonSanAntoni’sSunsetStrip—theplacetogotodance,
party, and drink. All of the clubs there played the hottest music, had writhing bodies in
them until the wee hours of the morning, and made money simply by being open. Why
Miguel’s club wasn’t making any was a mystery until someone had a sit-down with the
manager, Cristina Sandoval Cruz, who was, at first, leery of me and then tentatively
interestedonceIsaidIhadthepowertochangethingsforher.Shewasstunning,withher
electric blue bob and eyebrows, light henna-colored eyes, dimples, and full lips. She
lookedthepartofclubmanager,butIsawmorethanthat.Herinterestinthebusiness,in
makingitgrow,seeingitsucceed,wastangible.

IgotexcitedhalfwaythroughspeakingwithherbecauseIfiguredoutawaytohelp

myselfaswell.

“IthinkIhaveanevenbetteridea,”Itoldher.

Shewasbacktobeingdistrustful;Isawitinherhurtexpression.Shehadthoughtshe

wasgettingthroughtomeandwassadtorealizeshewasn’t.

“No, no, no,” I said brusquely, leaning forward across the table I shared with her.

“I’mnotsayingnotoyourideas.Ithinkpayingsomeworld-classDJstocomeandspinat
ElSueñountilitbecomesaplaceeveryonewantstobeatisagreatidea.AndIlikethe
ideaofsplittingprofitswiththemuntilwegetournameoutthere,butIalsothinkthatwe
needtohaveareputationasahavenforwomen.”

IhadallofCristina’sattention,thewayhergazelockedonmine.

“I think we add more staff, more bouncers, more sets of eyes on the patrons, more

servers,busboys,justmorepeopletokeepaneyeout.Iwantmoresecurityonthefront
doors,thebackdoors,alltheexits,sonoonegetstakenoutofhereunlessthey’reunder
theirownpowerwithwhoevertheycamewith.”

“Andthosejustwantingtogetlaid?”

“We’re fine with that, with one-night stands, as long as the women leaving—or the

men—aren’tsodrunkthattheydon’tknowwhatthefuckisgoingon.”

Shenodded.

“Ithinkwegetareputationforbeingaclubwherewomendon’thavetobeonguard

becauseweare,andwemakeanameforourselfthatway.”

“People won’t want to be in such a safe environment. Danger and the loss of

inhibitionsispartofthelureofIbiza.”

“Andthatwillallstillbetrueatourclubaswell,butsowillthecertaintythatayoung

womanissafeatElSueñobecausewecaremorethanotherclubsonthebeach.”

Cristinaeyedme.“Itwilltakemoneytomakethesechanges.”

“Ithinkwehavethatpartcovered,”Itoldher.

“You—”Shecoughed.“Ifyoustartthis…helping,thiscaring…Ineedyoutofollow

through.”

“Ofcourse.”

Shewavedherhandatme.“No.Yourbrother,hecameandwetalked,andIhadideas

forhim,thesesameonesthatI’mtellingyounow,andIsharedthis,andthenhecameand
dancedonlyandneversatwithmeagain.”

Iunderstood.Liketheothers,shewasafraidtotrustme.“Yeah,butdidhehaveideas

ofhisown?Didhesoundlikeme?”

Shepursedherlips,notsurewhatsheshouldsay.

“He’sanozzle.”

Instantscowl.“Idon’tknowthisexpression.”

“He’sanass,”Isaid,makingitclearer.

“Ohyes,”sheagreed.“Hepromisedthingsandthendidnothing.”

“Well,I’mnotlikethat.YouandIwillgetonthehiringtomorrow,you’llbooksome

DJs, I’ll make funds available to you, and we’ll get this done. We need to make some
updatestothefacilitywhilewe’reatitandhireaheadbartender—amixologist—totrain
upalltheothersasfastaswecan.”

Herquicknoddingshowedherexcitementandobvioushopefulness.

“Weneedasignaturedrinkforthisplace,somethingtodowithadream,andweneed

tomarkettheshitoutofit.”

“Yes.”

“Someridiculouslysweetthingthatwillbringinthewomenand,inturn,themen,”I

toldher,givingheraquickpatonthearm.“AmIright?”

“Youare,”shesaid,hereyessofteningasshestaredatme.

“Ipromise,Iwanttohelpbuildthisplaceup,nottearitdown.”

Shereachedacrossthetableformyhand,andweshookonit.“Ibelieveyou.”

Itwasgoodtohear.

“EXPLAINITtomeagain,”Duenaprodded.

“Myadvisor,DoctorFleming,isgoingtogivemecreditforasemesterabroaddoing

marketinghere.”

“What does that mean?” she asked even as she typed out what I had written in

longhandonthepieceoflinedyellowpaperbesideher.

“That means that even though Dalvon fucked me over, my MBA program sees

workingforMiguelGarcíaArqueroasafantasticprospectthatcangoonmyrésumé.”

“Ofcourse.Heisabillionaire.Howcoulditnotbethebestinternshipever?”

“Right?”

Shestoppedtypingandturnedtome.“WhatdidyousaytoDoctorFleming?”

“Well,Iexplainedaboutthethreebusinesses,aboutwhatwasexpectedofme,what

kind of PR and marketing and managing I was doing, and she was ecstatic. The whole
department was thrilled that I was getting this rare and wonderful opportunity, and once
yousendthise-mailwithyourofficialtitle—”

“Thatyouyourselfgaveme,”sheremindedme.

“It doesn’t matter. They don’t know that. All they need to know is that I’m here,

workingforfree,beingabillionaire’sinternandgettingon-the-jobtraininginmychosen
field.”

“Itisaninternshipmostpeoplewoulddiefor.”

“Exactly.”

Shemadeapurringsound.“Youareveryclever.”

“Itry,”Isaidcheerfully.“Nowtypefaster.Iwantthiswholethingputtobedsothey

can sign off on it and my whole life can stay afloat instead of getting flushed down the
toilet.”

Shebegantypingagain.“Thisjustcametoyou?”

“WhenIwastalkingtoCristina,yeah.Iwasthinkingthatshehasadream,andshe’s

fightingtomakeithappeninsteadofjustrollingoverandtakingit.”

“Andyouthoughtyoushouldbelikethat?”

“Yeah.”

“Sowhatdoesthismean?”

“Thismeansthatforthenextfivemonths—fortheentiresemester—I’mgoingtobe

here,soIhopeMigueldoesn’tcomehomeanddecidetofireme.”

“Hewouldnot.Youarealreadytoovaluable.”

“Idon’thavetostayhere.Icangetapayingjobsomewhereand—”

“No,”shesaid,adamant.“Youbelongherewiththerestofus.”

“Well,I’mnotabouttopassupfreeroomandboarduntilhesaysIhaveto,butyou

gottafindmeanotherroominthevilla.”

“Whateverfor?”sheasked,likeIwasnuts.

“Come on, be serious. Dalvon slept in there because he and Miguel were lovers. I

don’tgettostayinthehoneymoonsuiteanymore.”

Shenodded.

“Ifhecomeshomeearly,Idon’twanttobeinhisway.”

“Theonlyreasonhestaysawayisbecauseheisbusy,andthereisnodrawforhim

here.”

“YoumeanDalvon.”

“Yes.”

“SoMiguel’snotinlovewithhimanymore?”

“Idonotthinkitwaseverlove,”sheinstructed.

“Lust,then?”

“Lust that ran its course, yes,” she confirmed. “They do not fit together as they

should.Yourbrotherneedstobenurtured;Miguelisfartoobusytodothat.WhenMiguel
returns home, he needs to be the center of Dalvon’s life, but Dalvon is too busy then,
livinghis.Neithercangivetheotherwhattheytrulyneed.”

“It’stoobad.IreallythoughtmybrotherhadfoundhisPrinceCharming.”

“Oh,IthinkMiguelGarcíaisaprince,justnotDalvon’s.”

“God,Ihopehestaysawayevenlongerthanthreemonths.”

“Why?”

“Becauseifhecomesbackattheendofthesemester,I’msureI’llhavethemoney

formyplaneticketsavedup,andIcanjustleavewithoutbotheringhimatall.”

“Youarehelpinghimmakemoneyandincreasehistiestothecommunityhere,”she

saidflatly.“Idonotthinkthewordbotherisappropriate.”

Isighed.“Ihopeyou’reright.”

“Andhemayverywellbeawayalongtime.Heisaverybusyman,andsincethisis

notreallyhishome…hewouldwanttogoanywhereelsefirst.”

“You know it’s kind of sad that he and Dalvon never got on the same page. My

brotherwouldlovetomakeahomeforhimifMiguelwouldlethim.”

“Migueltriedtolethim.Dalvonwouldnot.”

“Itsoundslikeabigmisunderstanding.”

“No,Idonotthinkso,”Duenadrewout.

Iwaitedforhertoclarify.

“Okay,yes,Miguelneedsamatetomakeahomeforhim,buthealsoneedsapartner,

someone to run his home and his businesses here, a person who is more than simply an
ornament.Heisnotattractedtoweakness…normally.”

“My brother’s not weak,” I clarified for her. “He’s just gifted in ways that have

nothingtodowithoutsidepursuits.He’sanurturer,he’sahomemaker,andthere’snothing

wrongwiththat,butMiguelwasdeludedifhethoughtDalcouldbemore.”

“Hewasblindedbylust.”

“Whichisveryhuman,”Isaidwithagrin.

She leaned sideways, bumping into me. “I know why you want Miguel to stay far

awayfromhere.”

“Andwhy’sthat?”

“Becauseyoudonotwanttohavetotellhimthathisboyfriendisfuckingyourex.”

Igrimaced.“Yeah,Ireallywouldlovetoskipthatscene.”

“Hewillnotcareaboutthat.HewilljustbegladDalvonisgone.”

“Whichiskindasad,right?Imean,theywereinloveatonetime.”

She scrunched up her face, considering that. “No, I do not think so. I think Miguel

wasinfatuatedandDalvonwasdazzledbyallthatMiguelhadtooffer.”

Iwasdonethinkingabouttheirrelationship.“Okay,let’sdothis,”Isaid,directingher

focusbacktothee-mailshewastyping.“Idon’tneedeitherofthemfuckingupmylife,
sohelpmemakesureIstayontrack.”

“Ithinkyoudidthatforyourselfalready.”

Ikissedhercheek.

“Whatwasthatfor?”sheasked,coveringthespotmylipshadbrushedwithherhand.

“Forbelievinginme,”Isaid,feelingmorevulnerablethanusual.Iwasreallytouched

thatshehadsomuchfaithinmealready.“YouactuallythinkIcanmakeadifferencehere
withhardworkandmybrain.Youandmyprofessorsaretheonlyoneswho’veevergiven
methebenefitofthedoubt.It’sabigdeal.EvenmybossatBlisswas––”

“WhatisBliss?”

“It’swhereIworkasadvertisingandpromotionsmanager,”Iexplained.“Or,yanno,

whereIusedtoworkbeforeDalvonfuckedmeover.”

Shegrimaced.“Youlostyourjob.”

“Well,yeah,theygavemeaweektogetthisstraightenedout,butsinceIcan’ttravel

—soIcan’tgethome—theyfiredme.”

“Itwasnotsomethingyoucoulddoremotely?”

“No.Theylikedmebeingintheofficetohelpwithnetworkingissuesandhardware

crap,”Isighed.“Itwasashittyjobanyway,butitsortofpaidthebills,andsinceallmy
classeswereduringthedayandIcouldworkthereatnight….”

“Yes,Iunderstand.”

“Theyfiredmeinane-mail,”Igrumbled.

“Theysoundterrible.Youareluckytoberidofthem.”

Igrunted.

“You have better things to do with your time, my friend, and it does not sound as

thoughtheyvaluedyouortrustedinyouaswealreadydohere.”

“Yeah?”Isaid,fishingjustalittle.“Youtrustme?”Thatwasreallynicetohear.

“Yes.Youroptimismisinfectious,”shesaidwithasmile.“Sohowcouldanyofus

nothavefaithinyouorinyourvisionofhowthingsshouldbe?Iseepeoplerespondto
you,jumptodoyourbidding.Yougivethemconfidenceinthemselves,hijomío.Itisa
raregift.”

“Well,Idon’tknowaboutallthat,butIpromiseIwon’tletyoudown.”

“Iknowthatalready.”

“Okay,so,we’llsendthisoffandprayMiguelhastogobrokeradealinThailandor

something.”

“Ireallydonotthinkyouhavetoworry.Heisgoingtoloveyou.”

“No,helovedmybrother,theonewhoditchedhimwithoutbreakingupfirstandis

screwinganothermanaswespeak.”

Hersnortoflaughterwasnotladylikeintheleast.

ChapterFive

NOVEMBERINIbizawasnothinglikeNovemberinBoston.Iwasusedtoitbeingcold
already,butasitwas,Iwasrunninginseventy-five–degreeweatherwithtwoguestsatthe
villawhohadturnedouttobefriendsofMiguel’s.Theyhadshownupinthemiddleofthe
nightexpectingtostayintheroomsthey’dhadthelasttimetheywereinCalaLlenya,but
whenIexplainedthatVilladelaMer—whatDuenahadnamedit—couldberented,they
wereactuallymoreexcitedaboutthat.

Whatwasnicewasthat,becausetheywerepayingguestsnowandnotsimplypeople

staying with Miguel, they could speak to the staff themselves and not have to wait for
someoneinhishousetoaskforwhateveritwasforthem.Payingguestshadcarservice,a
personalchefIhadhired,andtheirownkeycards—we’dhadallthedoorschangedover
toanewsecuritysystem—sotheycouldcomeandgowithwhomevertheywantedandnot
havetoaskpermissiontobringwomen,ormen,home.

“This is fantastic,” Brian Windsor told me three days later as he and his boyfriend,

JamesNortham,stoodwatchingthesunrise.IwasupbecauseIstartedeverydaywitha
run,soIwasheadingout.

“Itoldyou,”Isaid,pattinghimonthebackbeforeIturnedtoleave.

“We’resorryifwewereloudlastnight,”Briansaidsoftly,stoppingme.“Weinvited

someguysbackwithusfromtheclubs.”

I shook my head. “No worries. One of the many things we did was add

soundproofingonourside.Yougoaheadandletyourfreakflagfly.”

His smile was wide. “If you’d like to join us, any night, please… consider yourself

invited.”

Igavehimatightsmile.LikeIfuckedaroundwhereIlived.“Thankyou,butyou’re

theguests,andwedon’tmixbusinessandpleasure.”

Hetookastepforward,close,hishandslippingovermyhip.“Yourbrotheralways

did.”

“I’msurehedid,”Isaidsnidelybecausereally,itwasnotasurprise.

“Miguelneverminded.Themorethemerrier.”

Isteppedback.“Thevillaisatraveldestinationnow,andso,asthepeopleincharge,

neither I nor Duena, or any of us, can afford to be found in any sort of compromising
positionthatcouldjeopardizeournewstatus,nomatterhowtemptingtheoffer.”

Briansmirked.“Traveldestination?”

“Of course,” I clipped coldly since he’d scoffed at me. “We’ve appeared in

Travel+Leisuremagazine,AFAR,andCondéNastTraveler,aswellasbeingontheTravel
Channeljustaweekago.”

“Oh.”Hewastakenaback,lookingbothstartledandabitsheepish.

Yeah,oh. Fucker. “Yes, we’re booked through next year at this point, so you might

need to hit Miguel up for his yacht next time you’re in town,” I finished with icy
professionalism.

“I—”

“Or, with his permission, of course, you could stay in the residence, but his mother

livesoverthere,andhispersonalstaff,soyanno,notsomuchwiththefreedomtofuckon
thefly.”

Brianwasataloss,aswasJames,iftheirmouth-open,wide-eyedexpressionswere

anyindication.Attimes,Iknew,Icouldbeabitofbullinachinashop.Ijustdiditwith
words,notbruteforce.

“Okay,gottarun,literally,”Isaidcheerfully,turningtoleave.

“Hudson,pleasewait.”

There was a lot of stammering and hemming and hawing, but in the end, they

apologized for thinking I was a boy toy like my brother, for slighting the villa, and for
makingassumptionsthatthepeoplewholivedunderMiguelGarcía’sroofweren’tserious
peoplewhohadcreatedsomethingsuccessfulthattookalotoftimeandeffortonaday-to-
daybasistokeeprunningseamlessly.

So now the three of us were running up and down cobblestone streets awash in

bougainvilleaandwisteria,surroundedbythesmelloftheseaandwildflowersandexotic
aromasthatmademymouthwater.

AsIran,Ienjoyedhearingmynamecalledoutbythepeoplewepassed.SinceItook

dailywalkswithInésbackandforthtothemarket,accompaniedhertochurch,haddinner
outwithDuenaandhernewboyfriend,EmilioFerrerPérez,andhadhiredmanylocalsto
workinthevilla—aswellasaddedservicesfromaroundthetowntothoseofferedatthe
villa—whereverIwent,peopleknewme.Theyconstantlycameuptoseeme,shakemy
hand,hugme,orjusttalk.ItwasnicetoseeInéshavecompanycallonherandseeher
acceptinvitationstogoout.Herevilchildrenhadnotbeenback,completelybannedfrom
thegrounds,andwithJoaquínandEduardoasco-headsofsecurity,therewasnochance
theyweregettingin.

IwasdrippingwithsweatbythetimeIgotbackfrommyrunalongthebeach,having

lostBrianandJamestothepromiseofgazpachoandensaladademarisco—orceviche,as
I thought of it—on the sand. I came up the circular drive on the residence side, and I
noticedastrangeSUVthere.Whilemovingthroughtheenormousfrontdoorthatledinto
theinteriorcourtyard,IsawInéshuggingamanIdidn’tthinkIknew,butsomanypeople
cameandwent,itwashardtotell.Whenhefinallyturned,ittookmeasecondbeforeI
realizedIwaslookingatMiguel.

WhenI’dseenhimbefore—onlyinpictures,neverinperson—healwayslookedso

perfect,allstiffandstately,butnow,withhisshortglossyblackhairtousledandstanding

upinspotslikehe’djustwokenup,wearinganavybespokesuitwithtight,ass-hugging
dresspants,smilingwidewithhisdimplespoppingandhisliquidbrowneyesgleamingin
thesunshine,Ifoundmyselfutterlytransfixed.

Themanwasnotsimplygorgeous,hewasbreathtaking.

Tall,atleastsixtwocomparedtomyownfiveten,hewasbroad-shouldered,thickly

muscled, and lean-hipped with long legs and big, strong capable hands. He was bigger
thanme,morepowerfullybuilt,butIwasstillnotfragilelikemybrother,byanystretchof
theimagination.AsIstoodthere,though,rivetedtothespot,Irealizedforthefirsttimein
mylifewhatitwastogetstruckbyaMacktruckwithlust.

Itwasn’tlikeme.Thatwasneverme.

I was not the type who had a visceral reaction to another person, so I immediately

triedtofigureoutwhy.

Hadtothink….

I’dbeenlivinginMiguel’sworldforthepastfourmonths,so,sinceIconsideredthe

villahomeatthispointandhewastheonewhoprovidedthatshelter…Ifeltwarmand
fuzzytowardhim.

Thatmadesense.

Iadoredhismother,so some of that reverence had run over onto him. That was an

evenbetterreasonformystomachrollingoveratthesightofhim.

Ilikedthatone,itwassweet.

Everyone, bar none, spoke with respect and warmth about him, so of course,

subconsciouslyIhadcometoreverehimaswell.

Thatonewasthebestsofar,sologicalIalmostfistpumpedtheair.

Rationalizingallthings,allfeelings,wasmystrongsuit.Makingeverythingneatand

tidyinmyhead,categorizingthereasons,calmedme,tiltedmyworldbacktowhereIwas
incontrol.Untilhelookedwherehismotherwaspointingandsawme.

His dark, hypnotic eyes… it was crazy, but they were gorgeous and deep, soulful,

haunting….Inseconds,theneedwasthere,poundingandinsistent,tohavethoseeyeson
meallthetime,foreverandever.Howcrazywasthat?

Instantly,awarningbuzzerwentoffinmyhead,andthehazeoflustcleared.There

werealotofbeautifulmenintheworld;hewassimplyoneofmany.

ImadethesignthatIwasheadinginsidethevilla,butthenIheardmynameonthe

breeze,insistentandclear.

“Hudson,”hecalledasecondtime,andman,ifthatdidn’tsoundgoodcomingoutof

hismouth.Itwasadeep,lowsound,smoothwiththesamewarmthhismotherhadinher
voice. It wasn’t a crisp, clean tone. More mellifluous, intoxicating, and he could say it
overandoverandI’dbehappy.

Jesus.

Ineededacoldshowertocoolmybodyandclearmyhead.Nowondermybrother

needed me to break up with Miguel García Arquero. Dal would never be able to stand
strong against the onslaught of a man who looked like that and sounded like that and
walkedwitharollingfluiditythatwasapleasuretowatch.

I was thinking maybe running was the best option, but he lifted his hand for me to

waitbeforeIcouldevenputthoughtintoaction.

Takingabreath,Istoodmyground.

HegotcloserthanIthoughthewould,andwhenIshiftedmyweighttostepback,he

reachedoutandtookagentle,butfirmholdofmybicep.

“Ismellbad.Youprobablywannagivemesomespace.”

“Since when is sweat a bad smell?” he asked, his voice like honey, calming me

instantly.

“Ijust—youlooksogreatinyoursuit,andI—”

Hetookastepcloserintomypersonalspace,liftingmychinsoIhadtolookupinto

thosebottomlessvelvet-darkeyesofhis.“Whathaveyoudone?”

It wasn’t a question. More of a statement with that sound again, his voice that

droppedanoctaveattheendofthesentenceinsteadoflifting.Icouldalmosthearapurr
init,asmokywhiskey-pouringvibratothatmademeswallowhard.

“Hudson?”

“Idon’t—nothingbad,Iswear.”

“Oh,Icanalreadysee,evenwithoutthebenefitofbeinginthehouse,thatitwasnot

bad.”

Iwasreallytryingtofocus,buthewassmoothinghisthumbovermybottomlip,soit

wasdifficult,tosaytheleast.

“And do you think I could have missed my own villa—Villa de la Mer—on the

InternetandinmagazinesIsubscribeto?”

Mymouthwassodry,itwashardtospeak.

“Mymotherishappy,everyoneelseissmiling,andmyaccountantcallsmeandsays

thatCaravanandBellegenteandElSueñoareallintheblackforthefirsttime.Ever.”

Ieasedfree,steppingbacksoIcouldbreathe.“Idon’tknowwhatBellegenteis.”

“That is the name of the rental business,” he rumbled. “A business that you have

turnedintoacash…whatisit?”Hesquintedatme.

“Cow,”Isaid,chuckling.“It’sastupidsaying.”

“Itis,”heagreed,lookingmeover,upanddownmybodybeforereturninghisgaze

tomyface.Hesteppedintightagain,slippinghishandaroundthesideofmyneck,his
thumbslidingovermyjawasIworkedhardnottomeltagainsthisbig,hardbody.“You
aremuchmorebeautifulthanyourbrother.”

Itriedtopullfree.

“No, stay here,” he ordered with his bewitching tone, his other hand drifting to the

sideofmyneck,tippingmyheadbacksoIhadnochoicebuttolockgazeswithhim.“I
neverlie.Youwilllearnthisaboutme.”

MorebeautifulthanDal?Whenhadthosewordseverbeenspoken?“Youdon’thave

to…thatis…Iknowhe’s…Idon’tneed….”Itrailedoff,staring,utterlylost.

“Hudson?”

Mytrainofthoughtwassimplygone.IhadnoideawhatIwastryingtoconveytothe

beautiful, sexy man standing in front of me who had the softest, warmest eyes I’d ever
seeninmylife,acandle’sflamereflectedinatumblerofscotchandice.

“Whatisitthatyoudonotneed?”

Icouldn’tthinkofanything.

“Itwouldbeeasytogetusedtobeinglookedatthisway.”

HisoffhandcommentthatsaidwhatasapIwasbeingfinallyclearedmyheadofheat

andwantandhowthickthelasheswereunderhiseyes.I’dnevernoticedthatonanyone
before.

I coughed and took a step back, the noise helping, rattling in my brain. His tender

smiletoldmehefoundmecharming.Already,Iwasinovermyhead.

“So,”Ibegan,clearingmythroat,hopingforsomesemblanceofnormalcy.“Willyou

please let me stay through the end of the semester? I’ll get out of your way then, I
promise.”

Henodded.“Anddoyouhaveyourpassportyet?WhenIspoketomymotheronthe

phone,shetoldmethatDalvontookit.”

“No,he—Ihaven’tbeenabletogetaholdofhimormyexor—”

“Ohyes,”hemurmured.“IheardthisfromDuenainthecarwhenshepickedmeup

attheairport.”

“What’sthat?”

“ThatIwasleftforamedicalstudentinBoston.”

“Idon’tthinkthat—”

“As though I was surprised or not aware of that, as well as his many other

indiscretions,”heapprisedme,takingaforwardstepbackintomyspace.

Iwassoashamed,feelinglikeDal’scheatingwasasmearonmeaswell.Astainon

bothofusbecauseweweretwins.“Youknew?”

Henodded.

“Everything?”

“OfcourseIdid.Icantellthedifferencebetweenamanwhowantstobeinmybed

andonewhoshareshimselfwithmanyothers.”

Itookastepback.“Thenwhylethimstay?”

“Iwasawayuntilnow.Iwouldhavepaidhimsomethingtogethimonhisfeetand

thenIwouldhavereturnedhimtoyou.”

“Ohthanks,”Igrumbled,takinganotherstepawayfromhim.

He laughed, a good sound, rich and resonant, and I couldn’t stifle the needy groan

thatcameoutofme.

“Comeinsideandweshalltalk,”hesaid,hisvoicegoldenandgrittyatthesametime.

“Ishouldshower,andthenyourmomcouldmakebrunch.”

Hisbrowsfurrowed.“Mymotherdoesnot—”

“Inés!”Iyelled,leaningsidewayssoIcouldseeher.“Ineedtoeat!”

“Sí,corazón,”sheanswered,hersmilefullofsomuchadorationthatIshouldhave

gottenacavityjustseeingit.“Areyoustaying,Miguel,orleavingagainforwork?”

He was hurt by the question—I could tell from the way his brows furrowed even

deeper.Hismotherjustexpectedhimtobail,andthatsaddenedhim.

“No,he’sgonnaeatwithus,”Icalledbackovertoher.“Andnomoreskimpingon

thefriedplantains.You’vebeenpromisingforthreedaysnow.”

Her laughter was like a sultry summer breeze through wind chimes. “Yes, yes,

anythingforyou,hijomío.”

“Thereyougo,”Iannounced,puttingevenmorespacebetweenMiguelandmyself.

“Yougogetsettledin,I’llshower,andI’llmeetyouinthekitchenwithDuena.Wecanall
talkandwe’llgetyouuptospeedonthechangeswe’vemade.”

“Youhavemade,youmean.”

“No.Duena’smyrighthand.She’sinituptohereyeballswithme.”

“Mysiblings,MartaandRamón,mayormaynotbeintonightaswell.”

“Haveyoutalkedtothemaboutwhathappened?”Iaskedgently.

“Ihave,”heaffirmed.“AndIknowwhatyoudidaswell.”

“They’regonnahateseeingme.I’llmakemyselfscarce.”

“Donotdare,”hesaidflatly.“Allofusaregoingtohaveadiscussionsoweallknow

wherewestand.”

“Allofyou,youmean.Idon’thaveanythingtodowithit.”

“Youhaveeverythingtodowithitandwillsitandtalkwithusaswell—if,asIsaid,

theyshowup.Now,iftheydo,isthereroomintheresidenceforthem?”

“Oh,ofcourse.Wemadesuretherewaslotsofroomforfamilyandfriendswhenwe

redesignedthespace.TheonlyreasonIdidn’tputyourfriends—”

“Who?”

“BrianWindsorandJamesNorthamareherevisiting.”

“Arethey?”

“Yeah,they’reontherentalsideofthevilla.”

“Why?”

“Well,becauseIknewtheywantedtohaveotherguestsandIcouldn’thavestrangers

aroundyourmother.”

Henodded.

“Butasforguestroomsforfamily,therearefive.I’minoneofthematthemoment,

but—”

“Youarenotsharingaroomwithme?”

If he’d physically hit me, punched me in the gut, it would have been less of a

surprise.Asitwas,whenmybreathleftmybody,ImadeaweirdwheezingnoisethatI
wasn’tabletocover.

ThemanmicdroppedonmeandIwassuitablygobsmacked.

Sharingwithhim?OhdearGod.

Iglancedathim,checkingtoseeifhewasserious,andyes,yep,thereitwas,onhis

face,inhiseyes,theconfusionthatcamefrombeingcaughtunaware.HereallythoughtI
wasstayinginhisroom…withhim…inhisbed….

If I were a machine, I would have shorted out. As it was, I twitched a little from

invisiblefingersofshockjoltingovermyskin.

“Hudson?”

Jesus.

LikeI’dbeabletokeepmyhands,mouth,andeverythingelseoffhimifwewerein

thesamesuitetogether,letalonethesamebed.Andwhywouldhewantmeinthere?Not
thathewassayinghedid,but…didhe?

ItookaquickbreathtotrytohidetheveryvisceralreactionIhadtohiswords.“I,

uhm,didn’twanttoencroachonyourpersonalspace,andsince,youknow,I’mnotDal,I
reallyhadnorighttobethere.”

“Yourbrotherhasnorightanymore.ThatwasdecidedbeforeIleft.”

“Well,pleasedon’tgivehimanymoney,”Iinsistedwithanervouschuckle.“I’llsort

throughhisthings,andwhenIgo,I’lltakehisstuffwith—”

“I’llagreetohavehisthingsshipped;justgiveDuenatheaddress.Iamsurprisedyou

didnotalreadyhaveitdone.”

“Itdidn’tseemrightwithoutyouknowing.”

HenoddedlikeIwasmakingsense.

“Butthankyou,”Isaid,genuinelyappreciative.“Okay,soI’llmeetyouinthekitchen

inlike,twenty,doesthatwork?”

“Yes,”hesaid,lookingmeover.“Ineversawanypicturesofyou.Dalvondoesnot

haveany.”

“That’sokay,he’stheprettyone.IgotthebrainsandI’mnottrading.”

“You‘got’morethanbrains,Iassureyou.”

Ifeltmyfaceheat,sobeforeIputmyfootinmymouth,Ibolted.

Upstairs, safe in my room with the door locked behind me, I worked to get my

breathing under control. What in the world was with this reaction to Miguel García
Arquero?Ididn’tcareaboutmen—Imean,Icared,Ilovedhavingsexasmuchasthenext
guy, but it wasn’t something I’d die without. At the moment, though, groin tight, pulse
racing,heartpounding,nervesbuzzing,stillpanting,IhadnodoubtinmymindthatifI
didn’tgetMigueltoputhishandsalloverme,Icould,infact,expire.Suddenlytakinga
showerwasn’tonlyagoodidea,bututterlyimperative.

IGOTtothekitchenbeforeMiguel,whichIwasthrilledabout.Itookmyregularchair
between Duena and where Inés might be persuaded to sit, across from Eduardo and
Joaquín,andweallservedourselvesasInésbustledaround.

“Oh,Miguel,”sheintonedhappily.Wealllookedupashecameintoroom,hesitantly,

lookinglikeheshouldhavebeeninanadforfuninthesunontheBalearicIslands.His
wheat-coloredlinendrawstringpantsandgauzywhiteshirtlookedeffortlessandsexyat
thesametime,andthefactthathewaswearingapairofhigh-endleatherflip-flopswas
ridiculously hot. I couldn’t figure out why until it hit me. The leisure footwear said he
wasn’t going anywhere, and that was the most alluring thing about him at the moment.
Thathewasthere,sharingspace,andseemedtobeinnohurrytoleave.

Underthethinshirt,Isawpowerful,sculptedmusclesbunchingashemoved,andI

gotglimpsesofhissleek,dark,tannedskin.Imarveledathowbeautifullymadehewas.

“Hudson?”

I’dbeencheckedout,lostinmydevotiontothegod,andonlywhenDuenacalledmy

namesharply,likeI’dkeptherwaiting,didIturn.

“Pardon?”

“IwasjustsayingtoMiguelthatCaravanisdoingextremelywellsinceyouhadthe

foresighttomoveAnitathere.”

I smiled at her. She was trying hard to talk me up. I looked back to the man I was

havingtroublenotclimbinglikeatreeandgavehimashakysmile.

“DoesAnitalikeworkingsohard?”heaskedasheclosedin.

“Shelovestherestaurant,andsodoesPablo,”Iexplainedashestoppedrightnextto

me.

“SoIammissingbothmyhousekeeperandoverseerbecauseofyou,”hesaid,lifting

hishandtomoveastrayhairoutofmyeyes.

Lookingupathim,Iwasworriedforasecondthatmaybehewasupset,buttheway

hewasstaringatme,watchinghisfingersmovethoughthestrandsofmyredhair,hewas
not.Hewasenjoyingtouchingme,andmystomachclenchedtightinreaction.

Sofast.I’dneverfallenforanyoneinmylifethisfast.Itwasabsolutelyterrifying.

“Yeah,butthey’rebothhappier.”

“Yes,” he agreed, touching the bead bracelet on my left wrist. “This looks like it is

oneofJavierSilva’s,thathemakesathisjewelrystore.”

“I arranged for him to do a commission for a guest that stayed a couple of weeks

back,andhegavemethatthelasttimeIwentbyhisplace.”

“Isitsterlingsilverandlavarock?”

“Yeah.”

“Verythoughtful.MayIsee?”

Itookitoffandpassedittohim,andforwhateverreason,whenheputiton,Ifelta

throbofarousalrollthroughme.Hewaswearingsomethingofmineanditgavemechills.

“Ilikeit,”hetoldme.

“It’syours,”Iblurted.

“So,”Miguelsaidhoarsely,movingtothetableandtakingtheseatacrossfromme.

“Tellme…abouttherenovationstothevilla.Whoseideawasthat?”

Itwasthesoftcadenceofhistone,slower,withtheemphasisondifferentwords,that

hadmecaptivated.Hesaid“tellme,”andtherewasapauseasthoseeyesofhispinnedme
under his stare. Next he said “about the renovations to the villa,” and the word
“renovations” made his accent really noticeable. Then “villa” rolled off his tongue. Just
thesound,likeyoucouldheartherollingwavesinhisvoice—Iwassimplyoverwhelmed.

Standing,IexcusedmyselfasIfelttheflushonmyface,neck,andchest,anddarted

toward the patio. Once I was outside, leaning on the thick limestone railing overlooking
CalaLlenyabeach,Ifeltbetter.Icouldbreathe.

“Hudson?”

IsawBrianandJamescomingupthedrivewayfromthestreet,andwhentheywere

bothstandingatthebaseofthestairsthatleduptotheprivateporticowhereIwashiding.
Igesturedforthemtogoaheadandcomeup.

Whentheyreachedme,Jamesthrewanarmaroundmyshoulders.“Sodoyouthink

tonight’sthenightthatyoufinallyshedyourinhibitionsandcomepartywithus?”

“Idon’tthinkso,”Irepliedgently.“Miguelishome,soyoumightwanttogoahead

inandsayhello.”

Theywerebothexcitedtodothat,andItookthatmomenttousethestairsthey’djust

comeupanddashedbacktomyroomtocallmybrother.

Holycrap,Ineededtogetthehelloutofthere.

Irefusedtofallinlustwithamanwhohadbeensodeludedthathethoughtkeeping

mybrotherhadbeenagoodidea.Clearly,Miguelwasallaboutthewrapperandnotabout
the filling. And while I knew attraction started first with the eyes, there was no way
anyoneintheirrightmindthoughtDalvonBarberwasagoodbetforlong-termfidelity.I
knewevenWillwouldbecallingmeoneofthesedays—maybeinsixmonths,maybeina
year,butitwouldhappen—andhe’dbeblubberingaboutDalvonleavinghimcryinginhis
coffee.

Miguelhadbeentakenin,sowhatthatsaidabouthispowersofdeductionwasthat

theywereeasilycloudedbyaprettyface.AndsinceIwasn’tone,Ineededtobailassoon
asthesemesterended.Ihadthemoney,profitDuenaandtheaccountantsaidwaslegally
mine.Itwasn’tmuch;Ididn’tletthempaymeasthoughIweretheowner.Instead,Iwas
paid as though I were a busboy. It was the fairest thing I could come up with. After
benefiting from Caravan’s meteoric rise and a small share of the rental property and the
club, I had enough for a plane ticket home and one month of rent, plus a deposit, if
somehow Dalvon had gotten himself kicked out of my apartment. All I needed was my
damnpassportbeforetheendofDecember.

IcalledDalvonandthephonerangasusualuntil,miracleofmiracles,Willanswered.

“Whatthehelldoyouwant,Hudson?”heaskedicily.

“OnwhatplanetdoIdeservethistonefromyou?”Ibarkedathim.Ihadneverbeen

anythingbutstraightwiththeman,andnowIwasthebadguysomehow?Thehell?

Hewasquiet.

“I was always honest with you, so it seems to me that you’re the one who kept the

factthatyouwereinlovewithmybrotheronthebackburner.”

Quicksigh.“Yeah,allright.”

“Soishethere?”

“He’ssleeping.”

“Well,wakehisassupbecauseIneedmygoddamnpassport.”

“Isentityesterday.”

What?“I’msorry,what?”

“DalgavemetheaddressandIsentitoutFedExyesterday.”

Icould’vekissedhim.“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Ohmygod,Will,thankyou.”

Hisnoisewasnoncommittal.

“Isweartoyou,whenIgetthere,Iwon’tcometoyourplace.Youguyswon’theara

wordfromme.”

“No,”hesnappedirritably,“that’snotwhateitherofuswants.”

“Oh?Whaddyawant,then?”

“Iwantyoutogiveusyourblessing.Dalwantsyoutolovehimandbehisbrother

again,butheknowshefuckedup.”

“Heneedstoknowthathe’snotgettinganymoneyfromMiguel.”

“Oh,hedoesn’tcare.”

“Youknowthatoryouthinkyouknowthat?”

“I’m going to take care of him. I got the first half of my trust fund from my

grandfather,sothingsaregoingtobealoteasierforme.”

Hisparentshadputhimonabudget—thatwastheextentofthehardshipinhislife.I

worked full time and went to school full time; he was born with a silver spoon in his
mouth.Itwasnotthesamething.

“Didheknowthatyouweregettinganinheritancepaymentfromthetrustfundthat

yourgrandfathersetup?”

“Ofcoursenot.”

“Younevermentionedthat?”

“I might have. Who cares? Not everyone has an angle just because you have trust

issues.”

“Fairenough.”

“Hejustwantstobehereandloveme.”

“Good.”

“Isitreally?Canyoubehappyforus?”

“Ofcourse.”

“That’swhyhedidn’twanttosendyouthepassport.Hewasworriedthatyou’dget

backhereandtryandbreakusup.”

Therewasmoretoitthanthat.Iknewmybrother,afterall.Ijusthadn’tfiguredout

whathewasuptoyet.“Iwouldneverdothat.”

“Iknow,Itoldhim.Isaidweendedcleanandthatyou’renotavindictiveprick.”

Althoughtheguycodeshouldhaveputmyexoff-limitstomybrother,itwasn’tlike

Dalvontoabidebyanyrules.Hewantedwhathewanted,andsohewentforit.Therewas
acertainthrow-caution-to-the-windqualityabouthimthatI’dalwayssortofadmired,but
Icouldn’tbethatwaymyself.Iwasaplanner;Ilikedtobereadyforeveryeventuality.
Nothing would ever be taken away from me again. I’d had enough of that growing up.
Dalvondoveintoeachnewsituationlikeitwasthefirsttime,andevenwhenhisheartgot
eviscerated,hehadfaith.Itreallywassortofadmirableifyoutooktheselfishcomponent
out.

“Don’tlethimuseyou.Getapre-nup.”

“Youdon’thavearomanticboneinyourbody.”

IwonderedifitwouldfeelromanticifMiguelbonedme.

“Youneedtofallinlove,Hudson.Like,forreal—thekindwhereyoucan’tbreathe

withouttheotherperson.”

“Idon’tbelieveinthat.”

“That’sreallysad.”

HewaspassingjudgmentonmeandIhatedit.

“ButIneedtothankyou.”

“Forwhat?”

“IknowyoucouldhavehadyourpassportmuchsoonerifyoureportedthatDalvon

tookit,butyoudidn’tbecauseyoudidn’twanthimtogetintroubleso…thankyoufor
that.”

“Thankyouforsendingittome,”Isaidasmytextmessagenotificationjingled.“Is

thatyou?”

“Yeah,IsentyoutheFedExtrackingnumber.”

“Thisisreallydecentofyou,Will.”

“It’stheleastIcoulddo.Wemeantalottoeachotheratonetime.”

IkeptquietbecauseIhatedtolie.

Hescoffed.“Youcan’tevengivemethat?”

“Idon’t…whaddyawantmetosay?”

“Well,youmeantagreatdealtome,andbecauseofyou,Ifoundyourbrother,who

absolutelyandwithoutquestion,thinksI’mit.”

God,Ireallyhopedthatwastrue.Willwasaperfectlyniceguy,andwhileIhadn’t

hurthim—ourfinishhadbeeneasyandamicableandhandledlikegrown-ups—Ihadno
insightintothetruefeelingsofmybrother.

“Hud?”

“Iwon’tforgetthis,Will,”Isaid,changingthesubject.“WhenIgetback,maybethe

threeofuscouldhangout,havedinner.”

“IknowDalwouldlovethat.”

“Okay,then,I’lltalktoyou.Givehimmybest.”

“Iwill.”

I ended the call and felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I was finally going home,

couldgoassoonasIgotthepassportandthesemesterended.

ItmadenosensethatIwasn’texcited.

ChapterSix

MIGUEL WAS with his friends on the patio when I went back inside, and because
everyone else was happy to have him home and I didn’t want to be a buzzkill with my
news,I grabbed aglass of theagua de Valencia Inéshad made andwent outside to join
them.

Ikneweveryonewouldmissme,asIwouldthem,andsinceIdidn’twanttoupsetthe

mood,Isatdownatoneofthetablesoverlookingtheocean.TheaguadeValencia—juice
made with world-famous Valencia oranges mixed with champagne and gin and vodka—
wasdeliciousandrefreshing,andbecauseofthat,justslightlyaddictive.WhenIfinished
one,Duenabroughtmeanother.Oncethatonewasdrained,leavingmetosuckontheice,
Eduardobroughtthenextround,andthenEmilioandfinallyInés.

“SoareMartaandRamóncoming?”

“No,”shesaidsadly.

“I’msorry.I’msurethey’llbereadytovisitsoon.”

“Iwillholdontothathope,yes.”

Iyawnedloudly,makingherlaugh.

“Itissonicetoseeyourelax,”shecooed,combingherfingersthroughmyhair.“You

havebeenworkingsohardtoshowMiguelthatyouarenothinglikeyourbrother.”

Wasthatit?“Ijustwantedhimtoseethatthosebusinessesareviable,”Isaidwitha

sigh.Mylipsfeltswollenandthick,mylimbsfeltheavy,andIhadanall-overfeelingof
ease.

ShechuckledasIsmiledupather.“Oh,hijomío,Ithinktomorrowyouwillnotfeel

likegoingforyourmorningjog.”

I blew out some air in a rush, sounding like a breeching whale. “I’m fine. I’m not

evenfeelingthealcoholatall.”

“Ohno?”InésteasedasDuenajoinedus.

Ishookmyheadasshegiggled.“Gostandbytherailingandgetsomeair.I’mtelling

everyone:nomoreforyou.”

It took a couple of tries, but with both Inés and Duena helping, they got me to my

feet.Inéswentbackinside,butmyfriendstayedwhereshewas,whereshealwayswas,at
myrightshoulder.I’dmissDuenathemost.

“Guesswhat?”Isaid,asIputmyhandsdownonthestonerailingandlookedoutat

theseabeforeturningbacktoher.

“What?”Shewasbeamingatme.

“My ex-boyfriend who happens to be my brother’s new one… as you know… just

sentmemypassport.I’llbeoutofyourwayverysoon.”

Hersmilecrumbled.“What?”

I grinned, big, spinning the news. “Isn’t that great? You can go back to managing

thingswithouthavingtoruneverythingbyme.Whatarelief,huh?’

“No.Notareliefatall.Ilikeusdoingthingstogether;whatwouldmakeyouthink

anydifferent?”shesnapped.

Ishrugged.

“Your view of yourself is so skewed,” she said irritably as she furrowed her brow.

“Wait,goback.”

Isnickered.

“SoDalvonandyourexthing,thatisstillgoingon?”

“Iknow,right?SinceAugustalready,”Isaidwithacackle.“Alertthemedia.”

“Itisshameful,”shemadeknown.

“Why?”

“Why?HewascheatingonMiguel!”

“Notphysically.”

Shetsked.“Itisappalling,especiallysinceDalvon’snewmanusedtobeyours.”

“Webrokeupalmostayearagonow.”

“Thisisonlysoundingworseandworse,”shejudged,shakingherhead.

“It’snotthatbigadeal.”

Shehmphed.“Itis,butwhatisworseisthatyouwouldeverthinkIwouldnotmiss

you.”

“No,that’snotwhatImeant.Iknowyouwill.I’llmissyouback.”

Shehuffedoutabreath.“Youdonotunderstandyourownworth.”

“That’scompletelyuntrue.”

“Itisthesameasyouhavingnoideawhatyoulooklike.”

“I’msorry,what?”

“Youmakemecrazy.”

“Youlostme.”

Shegrunted.

“Notaladylikenoiseandyoumakealotofthose.”

“Estúpido.”

“Even me with my limited ability to communicate in Spanish, I know that’s not

good.”

“Youthinkstupidthings,uselessthings.”

“Like?”

“LikethatDalvonismorebeautifulthanyou.”

“’Causeheis,”Isaidflatly,eventhoughitwasobviousshedidn’tagree.Thefactthat

shedidn’twasmakingmyheartswell,justlookingather.

“Toyou.”

“What?”Mymindhadbeendrifting.

“Toyou,Dalvonismorebeautiful,”sherepeated,allpuffedupnow,gettingmadder

bythesecond.

“Toeveryone.Hello,he’samodel.”

“Thismeansnothing.”

Killingme.Shewaskillingmewithlikingmebest.“Itmeansalot,andhe’salways

beenthehandsomeone.”

“Idonotthinkso.Whotoldyouthis?”

“Every foster home we were ever in,” I choked out, not caring anymore about the

painofit,ofbeinglessthan,ofbeingtheonewhogothitbecausenoonewantedtobruise
thebeauty.Hewastheonetheteachersandstudentsatschoolwouldnotice.Notme.No
oneeversawme.

Shewashorrified;itwasalloverherpained,scrunched-upface.

“Oh,it’sfine.StoplookingatmelikeIshotyourpuppy.Dal’stheprettyone,”Isaid

automatically, as I had my whole life. “End of story. I don’t care. That’s not who I am
anymore.”

“It is a lie,” she promised me. “Who told you your copper-colored hair was not as

prettyashisblond?Orthathazeleyeswerenotasgorgeousasblueones?Iknowpeople
noticehim,butwealllookatyouandseesomuchmore.Substanceisfarmoreattractive
thanmerebeauty.”

“Ihaveagoodpersonality,”Ibaited.

Thatwasit;Igotasmack.

“Shit!”

“Youaremyfavorite,”shestressed.

“Ohyeah,”Igrousedather,rubbingmybicep.“Yousure?”

Shegrunted.

“Goinsidealready,andbewithyourman.It’smeantoleavehimaloneintherewith

Inés.Youknowshethinkshe’stooskinnyandthenstartspushingfoodonhim,andsince
hedoesn’twanttooffendher,hestartseating…it’saviciouscycle.”

“Yes,” she agreed. She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek before disappearing

inside.

There, on the patio, hands braced apart on the railing, head back, eyes closed, the

warm,sea-scentedaironmyface,Itriedtocreateamemory,toimprinteverythingsoI
couldtakeitwithmeandputmyselftherewhenIwasfreezingintheBostonwinter.

“Whatareyoudoing?”

Openingmyeyes,IturnedslowlytofindMiguelbesideme.“I’mtryingtomakesure

IrememberallthiswhenI’mgone,”Iansweredalmostsadly.

“Isee.”

“Whatareyoudoingouthere?”Iasked,tryingtosoundlighter,happier,notgoingall

maudlinonhim.

“Iamcheckingonyou.Duenasaysthatyourpassportisonitsway.”

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice going out on me for a moment before I recovered. Up

close or far away, the man was gorgeous. “It’s good news for you. You’ll be done with
bothmeandDal.”

Hetookastepcloser,studyingme.“Tellmeaboutschool.”

Itwasanoddtopicchange.“Aboutgradschool,youmean?”

“Yes.Whatisyourundergraduatedegreein?”

“Businessmanagement.”

“AndyouarenowgettingyourMBA?”

“Iam.”

“Andhowcloseareyoutofinishing?”

“Twosemesters,”Ireplied,noticinghowintentlyhewasstaringatme,alittlecrease

betweenhisbrows.“AndIknowyoudidn’tsignonformetobeyourintern,butifyou
couldpleaseletthatlittlewhiteliestandsoIcangetcreditformyworkexperiencehere
andthereforenotscrewupmyentiresemester,I’dreallyappreciateit.”

“Ofcourse,”herepliedgruffly.

Thebreathcutoutofmychest,sharpandhard.“Thankyousomuch.Myeducation

meanseverything.”

“Why?”

“I’msorry?”

“Whydoesyoureducationmeansomuchtoyou?”

“Oh,”Isaid,squintingathim,annoyedthatI’dmissedthat.“Sorry,IthinkImight’ve

hadafewtoomanyofyourmother’sdrinks.”

“Itisokay,”heassuredme,smiling.“Goahead.”

“Well,”Ibegan,feelingsomehowlikeIwasinterviewingforajob,“Iwanttomake

somethingofmyself.Iwanttorunasuccessfulbusinessand—”

“Doyounotalreadyrunthreesuccessfulbusinesses?”

“Yeah,butthey’reyours.”

“Oh,Isee.Youwantsomethingallyourown.”

Inodded.

“Sothatwayitcannotbetakenaway.”

“Exactly.”

“Thisisimportanttoyou.”Andhesaiditasastatement,butlikeaquestiontoo.Like

Iwasn’tmakinganysense.

“Youcouldn’tunderstand,”Isaid,turningbacktotheocean,bendingtoleanonthe

railing,closingmyeyes,savoringthebreeze.“Nothing’severbeentakenawayfromyou.”

“Youareright,”heagreed,andhisvoicesoothedme.“ButIunderstandthedesireto

havesomethingthatbelongsonlytoyou.I,too,amapossessiveman.”

Iscoffed.

“Whyisthatamusing?”

Openingmyeyes,Istraighteneduptolookathim.“Maybeinbusinessyouare,but

notpersonally,right?”

“Whatdoyoumean?”

I cleared my throat. “Your friends told me that you didn’t care if Dal got passed

around.”

“Helikedit,clientslikedit,friends—therewasnoharm.”

“Sure,butdon’tgosayingyou’repossessiveinyourpersonallife.”

“Iamifthatiswhatmypartneragreesto,orifthatiswhatIwant.DalvonandI…

neitheroneofuswantedtobetiedtotheother.”

I shook my head, again returning my gaze to the sparkling greenish blue of the

Mediterranean.“Man,hegavemealineofcrap.”

“Oh?Whatdidhesay?”

“Thewayhemadeitsound,youtwowereheadedforthealtar.”

Hegrunted.

“No,huh?”

“No.”

“Well, at least your relationship afforded me the chance to spend time with your

people.” I sighed, pivoting to face him and lean back against the railing. “It’s been my
pleasuretogettoknowthemall,especiallyDuenaandyourmom.I’llalwaysbegrateful.”

“Iamgratefulthatyousteppedinandkeptherfromgoingwithmysiblings.”

“Itwastherightthingtodo.”

Miguelnodded.

“And now you’re just going to let them see her, like nothing happened?” I asked,

annoyedthathecouldsoeasilyletthatgo.InéswouldhavebeengoneifIwasn’tthere.
“Theyjustgetforgivenandeveryonegoesonlikenothinghappened?”

“Afamilydoesthat,yes?”

I growled at him, just a little, and his smile fired his eyes, like hot molasses turned

moltenandfleckedwithgold.

“God,”Icroakedout.

“What?”

Iswallowedhard.“Nothing,goon.”

“Iwasgoingtotellyou,no,Iwillnotsimplyforgetwhathappened.Iwilladdressit

whenevertheydecidetovisit,withyouthereaswell,andwewillsettletheentireaffair.”

“I’msureyourmomwantsyoualltobeonebighappyfamily.”

“Yes, but she also has to remember that the two oldest and I have different fathers,

which is why I am who I am, and they are not. We were raised at different times in
differentplaces.Wecannotsustainclosenessthatneverexistedtobeginwith.”

Thatwastruetoo.“Well,again,thankyouforlettingmestay.”

“IhadnoideathatyouandDalvonhadtradedplaces.”

Icouldn’tcontainmygrin.“Sorry.”

“No,notatall,”heinsisted,andIcouldtellfromthetone,nononsense,thathemeant

whathesaid.“IonlywishIhadcheckedin,asthenIwouldhavebeenmadeawareofthe
change.”

“Wouldyouhavecomehomeearlier?”

“Yes.”

“CurioustoknowwhatIwaslike?”

“Yes,”herepliedhonestly.“Iwouldhavewantedtoseeifonetwinwasthesameas

theother.”

Inodded.“Well,itworkedoutgreatforeveryone.”

“No,” he said, taking hold of my bicep. “Come, walk with me. I have something I

wanttoshowyou.”

Ilethimsteermetothestairs,andafterhestarteddown,Ifollowed.

“Tellmewhyyoudidnotsimplygototheembassyandgetanewpassport,”hesaid

whenwereachedthebottom.

“Because if I told them I lost it, they would’ve checked all the activity on my

passport and would have seen that someone used it. Then they would have tracked Dal,

and he would have been in trouble. He’s irritating and thoughtless sometimes, but he
doesn’tdeservethatkindofcrap.Imean,youknowaswellasIdothathe’sagoodguy.”

Hewasquiet.

“Youmovedhiminwithyou,afterall.”

“Wecannotallbesmartallofthetime,”hesaidsarcastically.

Ichuckled.“Youweredazzledbyhisbeauty,there’snocrimeinthat.”

“I was impetuous,” he clarified as he walked in front of me, giving me an amazing

viewofhisperfectroundmuscularassinmotion.“Everyoneis,atonetimeoranother.”

“Arethey?”

“No?”hemurmured,grinningasheglancedatmeoverhisshoulder.“Youthinkon

yourfeetallthetime?Youneverletsomethingelsedriveotherthanyourbrain?”

DidI?“No,Idon’tthinkso.”

“Howsad.”

“Whyisthatsad?”Iaskedasheopenedagateandledmeintothevilla’sgarden.

“Thenhowhaveyoueverbeeninlove?”

Imadeanoiseinthebackofmythroat.“I’veneverbeeninlove.”

“No?”

“Notyet,”Isaid,inhalingthescentsofthegarden.“DoyoulikewhatIdidouthere?”

Henodded.“Verymuch.”

Duenahadhadafreehandwiththeinteriorofthevilla,andI’dgonewildwiththe

exterior.Whatusedtobeascatteringofsucculents,mostlypricklypearsandocotillo,was
nowoverrunwithferns,wisteriaandbougainvillea,papyrus,elephantears,fourdifferent
shadesofhibiscus,begonias,andlilies.I’dinstalledseveralfountains,placedassortedkoi
in reflecting pools, and hung lanterns from arches and along the newly laid sandstone
stepping-stonepaths.Atthecenterofthegardenstoodasmallgroveofolivetrees.

“Whyarewehere?”Iaskedsoftly,myvoicehoarse.“I’veseenthisalready.Imade

it.”

He rounded on me and took my face in his hands. “I wanted to be out here when I

toldyouhowmuchIlovethis.Icannotwaittositouthereintheevenings.”

I trembled in his grip; I couldn’t help my reaction to him, the overwhelming

anticipation.“I’mgladyoulikeit.Thehouseisyours,afterall.”

“Andwillitstillbeaswarmwhenyouarenotinit?”

“What?”Igasped,caughtoffguard.

“Howcoulditpossiblyfeelthewayitdoesnowwhenyouleave?”

“I’m sure it will,” I rasped, struggling not to lean into him, pulling away instead,

taking a step back so I could breathe. The man annihilated me, made me want things I

couldn’t have, and a war had begun inside me between reaching for and holding back.
“Man,IreallythinkIhadtoomuchtodrink.”

“Youthinkso?”

“Yeah,I—”Mygazeflickedtohiseyes,lockedthere.“I’mnotmyself.”

“Howso?”heasked,closingthespacebetweenustonothingsoIhadtoliftmyhead

to hold his gaze. I vaguely noticed my hand sliding up his chest, without any conscious
thoughtonmypart,answeringtheurgetotouchhim,tosplaymyfingersoverhisheart.

“Idon’t…Ihavetousemyhead.”

“Why?”heaskedashishandslippedunderthecollarofmyshirt,histouchsolight,

gentle,likethebrushofbutterflywings.

“BecauseIcan’ttreatyoulike…you’renot….”Icouldn’tsay,couldn’tgivevoiceto

thedesireformore,myhearttryingtoclawitswayoutofmychest,wantingtobelongto
him,behis.Itwasnuts,allofit,andIwascertainitwasjustinfatuation,butohdearGod,
itdidn’tfeellikethat.Itfeltlikesomuchmore.

“Notwhat?”heproddedgently.“TellmewhatIamnotlike.”

Mine,Ithought,butIsaid,“…myboss.”

“No,Iamnot,”heagreed.“ButIwouldlikeustobegintobefriends,toknoweach

other.Willyouallowmetospendtimewithyou,talkwithyou?”

Iswallowedhard,lostinhiseyes,drownedthere.

“Hudson?”

“Ofcourse.”Ibarelygotthewordsout.

“Good,”hehusked.“Becauseeverythingheresuddenlybearsyourmark—myhome,

myfamily,mybusinesses—soIwouldliketoknowallaboutyou.”

I didn’t whimper, and I impressed the hell out of myself. My knees wobbled and I

shivered slightly, all because of him, and my throat went dry as my pulse sped up. It
happenedatonce,allofit,butIheldittogetherandonlyaskedaquestion.

“Why?”

“BecauseIfoundmyselfinterestedinyoubeforeIsawyou,andnow,afterspending

onlyasmallamountoftimewithyou—amevenmoreso.”

Itried to focuson his words,but his hands werenow under myshirt, on my waist,

holding me gently as he steered me back against the ancient garden wall. The gardens
themselves had been around during the time of the Romans, and I had taken that into
accountwhenIrenovatedthem.Botholdandnewnowblendedseamlessly.

“Hudson,”hesaidsoftly,leaningin,hisvoicelowandgravelly.“Iwouldliketokiss

you.”

“Is that what you meant by knowing me better? You wanna fuck me?” I blurted,

barelyabletocontrolmyhopefulexcitement.

“I want to know you better, and I want to kiss you first,” he said, staring into my

eyes,makinghisintentionscrystalclear.“Please.”

“Idon’tjustscrewaround,”Iinformedhimshakily,allmynormalruleshavingflown

rightoutthewindow.Iwasreadytolethimhavemerightthere.

“Thank you for letting me know,” he whispered, his orange-scented breath fanning

acrossmyfacebeforehebentandkissedme.

I moaned into his mouth, reaching up, my arms coiling around his neck as I pulled

himdown,yieldingatthesametimeItook.Ineededtokisshimintosubmission,suckon
histongue,anduseminetomapeveryinchofhismouth.NeverhadIbeensodesperateto
layclaim,sodriventocaptureanother,tokeephim.

Iwantedhimtobemine,andItranslatedthatintofeelingandactionandkissedhim

hard, devouring his mouth, letting him know the kind of lover I was: passionate and
possessive.

He clutched at me, his hands roaming, running over my skin, touching, learning,

finallysettlingonmyassbeforehepickedmeupandpulledmeagainsthim,intohim,his
holdtighteningasIwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaist.

“Youtastelikeorangesandhomeandsunshine,”hegroanedbetweenkisses,turning

fromthewallandcarryingmedeeperintothegarden,aroundthesideofthevilla,toward
thecabañaIknewwasMiguel’sprivateplaceawayfromtherestofthehouse.

“You’rearomantic,”Isaid,surprised,becausenoonehadsaidhewas.

“Ineverwasbefore,”hereturned,hisvoiceraggedashislipsslippedovermine,fit,

melted, captured, and mauled, each kiss building on the previous one, becoming more
urgentuntilIwasgrindingmyhard,heavycockagainsthisabdomenandIfelthisthick
erectionpressingthroughhislightlinenpants.

“Hudson!”

Webrokeapart,buthedidn’tletmego,didn’tsetmeonmyfeet,merelyliftedhis

mouthfrommine.

“Joaquín?”IcalledouteventhoughIcouldn’tseehim.

“Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“There’saLieutenantEscamillaandanOfficerGoyaoftheGuardiaCivilheretosee

you.”

Miguel put me down and stepped out around the end of the wall to look over at

Joaquín.“Whatdotheywant?”

“Oh,señorGarcía!”Joaquínclippedthewords.“Iwaslookingfor—”

“I’mhere,”Isaid,comingupbesideMiguel.“WhatistheGuardiawhatever?”

“They are police officers,” Miguel replied. “Did they say they needed to speak to

Hudsonspecifically?”

Joaquínmadeaface.“No,theywantedtoseeDalvon.”

Inthatinstant,Irememberedwhatmybrotherhadsaidallthosemonthsago—thathe

neededmetodealwithMiguel…andoneotherthing.

“Ohcrap.”

Miguelturnedtome.“Whatisit?”

“Ihavenoidea,butIthinkI’mabouttobetoldtherealreasonDalleft.”

“Thenletusfindouttogether.”

Itwasreallynicethat,whenwewentupthestairstothegarden,hewasholdingmy

hand.

ChapterSeven

I HAD no idea that someone could look quite so uncomfortable in such a great-looking
suit. It probably cost more than my first car, was perhaps made by an important Italian
designer,andmorethanlikelywasthebestthingthelieutenant,who’dcometothevillato
speaktoDalvon,owned.Sinceonedidn’tshowuptoabillionaire’sresidenceineveryday
work clothes, the suit had clearly been donned for the meeting. The lieutenant’s
companion, Officer Goya, was nicely decked out as well. Obviously, neither man was
usedtospeakingtomenofMiguel’sstature,ifthesweating,throatclearing,frequentuhs,
andfidgetingwereanyindication.Thewaybothmenkeptsquirmingmademeedgyjust
watchingthem.

“You may proceed,” Miguel prodded from where he sat beside me on the couch on

theportico.Theareawasshaded,andenormouscabañafansmovedtheseabreezearound
quickly,makingitmorecomfortabletherethananywhereelseoutside.

Escamillaglancedatourhands,stilltogether,andseemedtogetevenmorenervous.

“As you know, this year we cracked down on drug trafficking here in Ibiza, as many
dealersposeastourists.”

“Yes,”Miguelagreed.

“WeworkedjointlywiththeBritishpolice,asalargeamountofdrugsmoveoutof

London, mostly from the gangs in Manchester and Liverpool, through Ibiza during the
summerseason.”

“Ireadaboutthatonline,”Miguelcommented.

Escamillacoughed.“Yes,soyouunderstand,wewerelookingfordrugs,butitturned

out that the dealer who wandered into your club, El Sueño, was not selling drugs, but
guns.”

“Guns,”Goyarepeated,justincasewemissedit.

“Sothisarmsdealer,whathappenedwithhim?”Miguelprodded.

“Well,heendedupdoingbusinesswithDalvonBarber.”

“Yourboyfriend,”Goyaadded.

Iunderstoodthen.GoyawaslittledogtoEscamilla’sbigone;itwaswhyhehadto

repeatandclarifyeverythingthemansaid.

Miguelsqueezedmyhandbeforelettingitgo.“Whathappened?”Iasked.

Escamilla and Goya sat on the opposite couch, leaning forward, and Goya’s leg

bouncedashispartnerexplained.

“Dalvontookpossessionofamilliondollars’worthofAK-47s.”

“Of course he did,” I groaned, raking my hands through my hair, terrified of what

wasgoingtohappenbutkeepingmytonelevel,mygazefixed.

“Hewasgiventheentireseason—thesummer—tosellthem,andtheninNovember,

thedealerwouldreturnandcollecthisprofit,minusDalvon’scommission.”

“JesusChrist,”Isighed.

“But you should be proud of him, because what he really did was turn the firearms

overtotheauthorities,whichwasus.”

“Wetookpossessionofthem,”Goyachimedin.

“OhthankGod.”Iexhaledsharply,soscaredthatmybrotherwasgoingtoprisonfor

armstraffickingbeforeEscamillaexplainedthatlastpart.

“Buthewassupposedtobeherewhenthedealerreturnedtomakearrangementsto

deliver their money to them. Because while we know who it is we are looking for, we
needtogethimadmittingthathegavethegunstoDalvonsowecanprosecutehim.”

“YouweregoingtoputawireonDalvonandgethimtoconfess?”

“Yes.”

For fuck’s sake. “Who in their right mind gives another person a million dollars’

worthofgunsandjustwalksaway?”Igroaned.“Nobody,right?”

“Yes.”

“Becausewhatwouldkeephimfromrunningoutonthisguy?”

“True.”

“So,whatthen?”

“We have confirmation that there was someone here left behind on the island, a

memberofthecrew,watchingDal.”

“Aspy,”Goyaexplained.

Shit. I understood why they were there talking to Miguel at that point. “And that

personsawDalleaveusingmypassportandnothisown,andsonowtheythinkI’mDal.”

“Yes,” Escamilla confirmed, “precisely. One of the men working for Bodhi

MichelsonreportedthatHudsonBarbercameandwent,butthatDalvonwasstillhereat
thevilla.”

“No one confuses Hudson with Dalvon.” Miguel was emphatic as well as annoyed.

“Theylooknothingalike.”

“They look enough alike,” Goya argued. “Bodhi and Dalvon only met once, and it

wasmonthsago.”

“HowdidMichelsonevencomeincontactwithDalvon?”Iwantedtoknow.

Escamilla went on. “Through some men that Dalvon went dancing with. He was a

regularontheclubscene,andthentheystartedmakingregularvisitstoElSueñotosee
himandevenvisitedthevillaononeoccasion.”

“There were arms dealers in my house?” Miguel asked, his voice sharp, edged in

quietfury.“Withmymother?”

“Yes,señorGarcía,butthatwasbeforewewereinvolved.”

Miguelturnedtome.“Iwillkillhimifheeverreturns.”

“Thelineformsbehindme,”Imuttered,lookingatthetwopolicemen.“Sowhatisit

youneedmetodoatthispoint?”

“Weneedyoutopretendtobeyourbrother,makethedealtogivethemtheirmoney

whentheycontactyou,andthenwecanarrestthemaswealreadytookpossessionofthe
guns,”Escamillaexplained.

“How?” I huffed out, wondering at the ability of the Guardia Civil. “They can just

sayit’snottheirmoney,andtheycanclaimthegunsaren’ttheirseither.Idon’tseehow
yougetaconvictionhere.”

“Becausetheywillwanttheirmoney.Assoonasyoushowupwithit,tellthemthat

thisisthepaymentfortheguns.Thentheyagree,andwehavethem.”

“But this is all dependent on these men getting in contact with Hudson,” Miguel

surmised.“Isthatcorrect?”

“Yes.”

“AndthisBodhi,howdoesheknowDalvon?”

“Dalvonsleptwithoneofhisfriends.”

“I’ll be sure to call and ask my brother,” I snapped, beyond exasperated with my

sibling.Theshithegotmeintowasunbelievable.

“Oh,no.”Goyawasadamant.“Wedonotknowhowtheyaremonitoringyou.Butat

themoment,theybelieveyoutobeyourbrother—nothingcanchangethatperception.”

“Andhowdoyouexplainyoubeinghere?”Iasked.

“Wearemerelypressuringyoutogiveupyoursupplier,andthatfollowswithyour

identity,”Goyainformedme.“Michelsonisintownnow,orsohiscreditcardtrailtellsus.
We just need him to make contact with you—Hudson—so that you—as Dalvon—can
meetwithhimandpretendtodeliverthemoneythatheisassumingyouhaveforhim.”

“AndifIdon’t?”

“Then we will go after your brother and arrest him for obstruction,” Escamilla

proclaimed.

“How?”

“WewillcontactInterpol.Heagreedtothisandthenhefled—onastolenpassport,

wenowknow—andbyhisactions,hewillallowanarmsdealertogofree.”

Iwasbeginningtoseethebiggerpicture.

“Theonlywaytosavehimisforyoutohelpus,”Escamillaconcluded.

Isettledbackonthecouch.

“So what is your plan?” Miguel asked, and even though I’d only known him for a

short time, I could hear the tightness in his voice, the strain. “Is Hudson supposed to
simplygotoElSueñoandloiterandwaitforsomeonetoapproachhim?”

“Basically, yes,” Goya replied. “You stay there, night after night, until someone

contacts you. Then make a deal to meet someplace to get him his money. We will put a
wireonyou,andyouwillmaketheexchange,andwewillberighttheretoarresthim.”

“Itsoundsdangerous.”

“No,wewillbetherethewholetime.”

“Idonotlikeit,”Miguelsaidflatly.

“Hehasnochoice,señorGarcía.Hisbrothermadeitforhimwhenheleft.”

“I’mseriouslygonnakillhim,”Igroused.

Miguelgrunted.

“Now, Hudson,” Escamilla said, sounding exhausted, “do you have club clothes?

Becauseyourbrotherwasalwaysdressedfordancing.”

LivinginDalvon’sshoes—wasthereanythingworse?

“Andcanyoudosomethingwithyourhairtomakeitlessredandmoreblond?”

IclosedmyeyesandtriedtorememberatimewhenIwasn’ttoldthatlookinglike

Dalvonwasbetter.

Miguel’sbreathontheshellofmyearsurprisedme,butthehandonmychestatthe

sametimewascalming,soIdidn’tmove,justabsorbedhiscloseness.

“Isweartoyou,”hewhispered,“Iseeallthatyouare,andallthatyouareisradiant.”

Ishiveredashishandsliduptomythroat,andIopenedmyeyesandturnedtohim.

“Leave us,” he told the officers without looking away from me. “We will be at El

Sueñotonightaftermidnightwhenthingsgetgoing.Lookforusthen.”

Hiscommandsinfaststaccatogavethemennoallowancetospeak.He’dspokenand

thatwasalltherewas.Theyleftuswithhurriedapologiesandthanks.

“Iwillnotletyououtofmysight,”hepromised,histhumbstrokingovermyjaw.

“Youdon’thavetocome,”Isaidautomatically.

“WhywouldInot?”

Iclearedmythroat.“Becauseit’snotyourplacetowatchoverme,andfurthermore,I

don’tneedyouto.”

“Ohno?”

“No,”Ichokedout.“Idon’tneedyouoryourvigilance.Icantakecareofmyself.”

“Youhavebeendoingthatalongtime,yes?”

“Absolutely.Ihave,andDalvontoo.Ialwaystakecareofhim.”

“Asyouareyetagain,”hesaid,gettinguptostandoverme.“Wasthereneveranyone

elsetocounton?”

“No,”Isaidhoarsely.HeofferedmehishandandItookit,standingupbesidehim.

“Whynot?”

IlostmytrainofthoughtwhenhetiltedmyheadbackandIfoundmyselfstaringup

intohisdeep,richchocolateybrowneyesfringedwithlong,thickblacklashes.“What?”
His smirk, all smug and male, was crazy hot, and I whimpered before I could stop. “I
didn’tget—”

“Whyhaveyouhadnoonetocareforyou?ForHudson?”

“No one ever stays. Everyone leaves me and no one wants to keep me and… I’m

difficult,youknow.”

“Areyou?”heasked,hisvoicearumbling,sexygrowlthatmademycockthickenin

myshorts.

Imadeanoisethatsoundedlikeacrossbetweenawhineandasigh,andIclutchedat

hisshirt,grabbingholdofitsohecouldn’twalkaway.“Icandothisbymyself.”

“Ihavenodoubt,”hesaidashebrushedhislipsovermine,once,andthenagain,his

tongue dragging over my bottom lip, causing me to respond with a full body shiver I
couldn’thide.“Butyouarenotgoingtodothingsaloneanymore.”

“No?”

“No,thosedaysaredone.”

Man, did I drink too many of Inés’s froufrou drinks or what? My inhibitions were

down, my filter was gone, and my vulnerability was out like a flag, waving all over the
place.

“I’mnotDalvon,”Isaidsohe’dknow.“Idon’tneedsaving.”

“Iagree.”Hecuppedthebackofmyheadwithonehand,holdingmestill.“Youdo

notneedsaving,justclaiming.”

Ididn’tneedanythingfromhim,notreally,butIforgotwhatIwasgoingtosaywhen

hekissedme.

He should have been the guy who gave lessons on how it was done, because holy

fuck,themancouldkiss.Never,ever,hadmymouthbeensoravaged.AsIlostmymind
and clung to him—his six two and my five ten a lot of difference in that moment—I
focusedeverydropofbrainpoweronmemorizingeverysecondofourencounter.Idrank
him in, his hands gripping my thighs and lifting me into his arms again; the feel of all
those powerful muscles rippling under his warm, sleek skin; and his dominance as he
stated,betweenplunderingkisses,exactlywhathewasgoingtodotome.

“Sayyestome,”hedemandedashecarriedmeupthebackstairstothepatioofhis

bedroom and then inside. The second we were there, he put me on my feet so he could
yankandpullonmyclothes,shuckingthemfrommybody,frantictoridmeofthem.

Ihadtobecloser,andsoIlungedathim,takinghismouth,kissinghimdeeply,the

hunger nearly unbearable as I coiled tight until we were flush together. I heard the now
screaminginmyhead,andthen,becauseIwasme,thewispofdoubtslitheringintomy
garden.

Itorefreeandmethishotgaze.“Areyousureyou—”

“Whatdoyouwant?”hesnarled,throwingmedownonthebed.

OnlythendidIrealizemyshoesweregone,aswellasmyshirt,andmyshortswere

barelyon,thebuttonandzipperloose.

Standingthere,loomingoverme,pantingfrombeingkissedbreathless,pupilsblown,

lipsswollen,clothesaskew,hairtousled…hewasgorgeous.Andallhewanted,allhewas
waiting for, was me. All I had to do was look at him to know I was not a substitute for
anyone else. He didn’t feel sorry for me, and it wasn’t gratitude he was feeling, or
anythingelsebutlust.

He wanted me, plain and simple, and there was no one I could ever remember

wantingmorethanhim.

Opening my arms, I exhaled all my fear. It didn’t need to be anything but mutual

satisfaction.Hewasn’tmine,soifheleftafterwardorwantedmeout,thatwasokay.But
inthismoment,Icouldpretendhewasmine.

“Iwantyou.”

Hewasonme,fast,drivingmedownintothebed,reclaimingmymouth,kissingme

hardanddeep,strippingmebeforehepulledaway,legstuckedunderhim,staringdownat
me.

“What?”Iasked,notevencaringthatIwasnakedandhiseyesweretakingthetour.

“You are beautiful.” I heard the wonder in his voice. “I want all of you wrapped

aroundme.”

“Yes,good,”Iteased.“Where’syourlubeandcondoms?”

Hissearinggazemetmine.“Doweneedthat?”

IknewwhatIwasbeingasked.“Ineverbareback.”

“Butyoucould.”

Andwould,forhim.“Yes.Ihavemylasttestonmyphone.Youwannasee?”

“Ihavemineaswell.”

Clearlywe’darrivedatthetrustportionoftheevening.Iswallowedhard,becauseI

hadtoask,andthequestioncouldkillusbeforeweevengotstarted.“So,didyouusea
condomwithDal?”

“Idid,yes,always.Ididnottrusthim.”

“Thenwhy’dyoukeephim?”

Hegazedroppedtothefloorforamomentbeforereturningtome.“Imadeamistake,

butIwasneverfoolish,notwithhim.”

“Butyouwillbewithme?Foolish?”

“NothingIdowithyouwouldbeanythingbutright.”

“Howdoyouknow?”

“BecauseIfeelit,”hegroundout.

Done.

I was so done. I’d spent years encasing myself in armor, built walls and honed to

razorsharpperfectiontheweaponsIneededtodefendmyfortress.Butthismanlaidwaste
toitall,soeasily,sosimply,withthewarmthofhisheart.Nowmyonlychoicewastolay
everythingdownandsurrender.

ButwouldI?CouldI?Wasthereanythingasscaryastrust?

Wewerequiet,staringateachother.

Itwasme,ithadtobeme.IhadtobetheonetoreachforwhatIwanted.

“Getthefuckin’lubealready,”Isaidlikehewasanidiot.

Hissmilewaswickedashescrambledoffthebed.

I’dneverseenanyonesoroughwiththeirownclothes,tearingthemoff.Iwantedto

lookathim,tostare,totakeineverycut,toned,chiseledlineofhim,buthefoundwhathe
neededandwasbackonthebed,crawlingoverme,grabbingmythighsandyankingme
towardhim.

I put my feet on his thighs and lifted up so he could shove a pillow under my ass

beforeIheardthesnickofthecaponthetubeandhisslipperyfingerspressedagainstmy
entrance.

Immediately I tensed, but his other hand wrapped around my cock and gripped me

tightbeforestrokingmefromballstohead.

Archingupoffthebed,Icalledhisname.

“Again,” he murmured, curling over me, raising my left leg to his shoulder and

resting it there as he added a finger to my ass, opening me up, making me ready, his
ministrationscausingmyvisiontogowhitearoundtheedges.“Saymynameagain.”

Imoaneditoutasheputmyrightlegontheothershoulderandtookholdofmyhips,

rockingforwardatthesametime.

“Hudson,”hegroanedashepushedhiswayinside.

Thestretchandburntookmybreathaway,thepainallIknewforamomentbeforehe

shiftedposition,changedhisangle,anditlessened.Istillfeltadullache—themanwas
huge after all, and he didn’t wait, wouldn’t let me get used to him, my body having no
momenttorestbeforehewithdrewafractiononlytodrivebackinside.

Iwasgoingtomakehimstop,slowdown,beforehesplitmeinhalf,butthenhislips

wereonmine,andthekissthatstolemybreathsentsizzlingheatdownmyspine.

OhholyGod,hefeltgood.

“Miamor,”hemurmured,sinkingintome,peggingmygland,themotionspreading

ripplesofelectricityovermyskin.

Ifeltthejoining—theoneness—inaheart-swelling,chest-grippingrush.Hisskin,his

touch,slidoverme,akissofbutterscotchschnappslayeredoverrichhotchocolate,potent
from the first sip. I tried not to fall in love but I couldn’t help it, impossible not to…
especiallysincehewastheloverI’dalwayscraved.

“AmIhurtingyou?”heasked,concerned,hiseyessearchingmine.

“No,” I answered, my breath catching as I rolled my hips to meet his increasingly

hardthrusts.“Don’tstop.”

Hissmilespikedmyheartrate.“IcouldnotevenifItried.”

ItwasgoodtohearthathewasasaffectedbymeasIwasbyhim.“Miguel,”Ihuffed

intohishairafterheburiedhisfaceinmyshoulder.

“Bésame,”hecommandedasheturnedhisheadtogrindhismouthdownovermine.

I kissed him until I couldn’t breathe, lost in the relentless pounding, the thrust and

retreat,andwhenhepulledoutsohecouldrollmetomystomach,Iwentwillingly.

“Quierofollarmetuculoapretado,”hesaid,hisvoicethick,hisbreathingragged.

Itwasfilthy,whateverhesaid,andverysexy,soIgotuponmyhandsandkneesfor

him,givingmyselfover,andwasrewardedwithhisfatcockstuffingmefullalloveragain
andhishand,nowslickwithlube,jerkingmeoff.

“Miguel,”Ibarelygotout.“Don’tstop.”

“Quierohacértelofuerte,”herasped.

“Whatdidyou—”

“Iwant…you—”Hetookadeepbreathbeforecontinuing.“—ashardasIcan.”

CouldIbegforthat?“Yes,now,hurry.”

Herammedintome,drivingdeep,hishandfistedinmyhair,bowingmybacksomy

asswastaut.Theslappingofourskinsoundeddebauched,thesoundfillingtheroom.

“YouwilldoasIplease,”hegrowled.“WheneverIplease!”

I would, there was no question. He could have me at his leisure with a snap of his

fingers.Thatfast,afteronlyhoursofknowinghim,Iwashisforthetaking.

“Sobeautifulandarrogantoutsidethesedoors,butinside…onlymine.”

Myshudderingresponsetothedominanceinhiswordssparkedaclenchinginmyass

beforemyballstightenedalmostpainfully.“I’mclose,”Iwarned,thepressurerising,the
surge of adrenaline flushing me first hot and aching, and then cold, covered in goose
bumps.

“Now,”heordered.“Iwanttoseeyou,feelyou…comeforme.”

Thatwasall,theonlycommandIneeded.

Myorgasmrolledthroughme,andmymusclesclampeddownaroundthelong,hard

lengthofhim,squeezingtightasItriedtobreathethroughmybone-meltingclimax.

Hewasonlymomentsbehindme,spillinghotandthickintomyspasmingchannel,

hishandsonmyhipsasherodeouthisaftershockswithme.

Ineededtobewrappedup,heldtight,notletgo,butthatwasnotsomethingIcould

askforordemand.He’dgottenwhathewanted.I’dshownmyselftobenobetterthanmy
brother,whohadprobablytakenlongertogetinthesack.JustthinkingabouthoweasyI
wasindirectcontrasttotherealme—theguywhohadn’tgottenlaidinnearlyayear,the
one who only fucked if he cared and trusted the other person—was making me want to
run.Manwhorehadneverbeenme,butnow….

Easingmyselffromtheendofhisstillengorgedshaft,Icollapsedontothebedand

tookasecondtoinhalehisscentonthesheetsbeforesittingup.

HecaughtmybicepandyankedmebackdownagainsthischestwhereInotchedinto

him,myfacepressedintothesideofhisneck,ourbodiesalignedlikewe’dbeenlovers
foryears.

“Wherewereyougoing?”

“Ididn’t—”Myvoicefailedforamoment,andIcoughedsoftlytogetitback.“—

wanttoassumethatyou’dwantmehere.”

“Tansoloquierodormiratulado,”herumbled,thewordssoundinglikeaprayer.

“Idon’tknowwhatyou…Miguel?”

“Closeyoureyes,”hedirected,hisvoicelikeacaress.

Therewasnowaythatwaswhathe’dsaid.“Butwehavetogotothecluband—”

“Later,”heconcluded.“Fornow,youwillletmeholdyouasitisallIwanttodo,all

Icando,atthemoment.”

I was quiet, snuggling into him, loving the sound of his deep, contented sigh but

afraidthathewassimplyphysicallydrainedandnotfeelingthesameasme.

“Whyareyousilent?”

Ihadnoanswerforhimthatwouldn’tmakemeseemneedy.

“Andwhywouldyouthinkforustosleepapart?”

Itookabreath.“Ididn’twanttopushyouintomorethanyouwanted.”

“Isee,”herumbled,clutchingmetighter,closer.“SoyouwereunsureifIwouldwant

youhere,besideme?Inmyarms?”

“Yeah,I…thisislikeasecondold,right?”

“Yes.”

Wewerequiet,buteventhoughwewere,Istillfeltconnectedtohimbecauseofhow

hewasholdingme,possessivelybutgentlyatthesametime.

“Perhapsyouthink,”hebeganafteralongmoment,“thatIbelieveyoutobeaneasy

conquestjustasyourbrotherwas.”

Iwouldhaveargued,toldhimhewasnuts,ifmyvoicehadn’tdesertedme.

“You equate giving yourself to me with some judgment I might make on your

characterorthedepthofyourheart.”

Iburrowedagainsthim,myfaceinthesideofhisneck,closingmyeyes,unableto

lookatanything,especiallyhim.

“Iadmittomakingamistakewithyourbrother.Iallowedlusttocloudmyvision.”

Iwouldhavegottenupandrunawayifhisthickarmsweren’twrappedaroundme.

“Ihavenotmadethatmistakehere,withyou.”

“No?”Imanagedtogetout.

“Ohno,”hepromisedhuskily,rubbinghisfaceinmyhair.“Yourpassion,forlife,for

work, for family, to make change, to make all that you touch better than it was—I want
thishere,inmyhome,inmylife.Ilookatyouandseemyfuture.”

Theswellofemotion,offeeling,ofrightness,mademeclenchmyteethasitrolled

throughme.

“Openyoureyesandlookatme.”

Moments ago, I couldn’t have complied, but now…. His eyes were like a shot of

espresso,thickwithlashesandpromises.Hewasluminous.

“I know with every certainty that if I were any other, you would have never given

yourselftome.ItwasagiftonlyformebecauseyouknowIseeyourvalueandprizeyour
trust.”

Itwaslikebeingonthatdroponarollercoaster,whereyourheartstayeduptopas

yourbodyhurtleddownthetracks.Iwasoutofmydepthwiththismanandfloundering
hard.

Theroughchucklewarmedmeashekissedmyforeheadandthenbumpedmynose

togetmetolookupathimagain.

Whenheleanedin,Imethimhalfwayandtooktheofferedkissgreedily.Asherolled

metomyback,Iwrappedmylegsaroundhisnarrowwaistsohecouldn’tgetaway.Not
thatheseemedasthoughhewasgoinganywhere.

“MakenoassumptionsofhowIfeel,”hecautionedashestareddownintomyface.

“Iseeyourheart.”

“Okay.”

“Yes?”Hewasmakingthingsveryclearbetweenus.

“Yes.”

“Good,”heconcluded,shiftingdownbetweenmythighs,kissingalineupmythroat.

“Youareaverypassionateman,”hewhisperedinmyear,“andyouwantedme.”

“Want you,” I corrected automatically, my cock thickening between us as his hands

slippedtomyassandsqueezed.“Let’sbeclear.”

“Weareofthesamemind,”hegrowledashelayontopofme,headonmyheart,and

lettheweightofhisbodycomfortme.

Ihadneverheldanyonesotight.

ChapterEight

IHADbeentoElSueñobeforeitopenedonmanyeveningstospeakwithCristina,had
been there when it closed at two in the morning to converse with her and her three
assistants,andhadevenbeentherewithhertomeettheaccountantwhodidthebooksand
payroll for the three businesses I oversaw. The raging club after midnight was yet a
differentexperience,withconfettionthefloor,wall-to-wallgyratingbodies,andthumping
trance music. I saw the accountant, Ernesto Campos Ruiz, sitting at the end of the bar
nursing what I was certain was an alcohol-free concoction and talking to Cristina, who
stood behind the bar. Ernesto was very nice, shy, wore glasses, and clearly thought
Cristina was a goddess. She told me I was wrong, that he had a serious job and was a
grownup who had no interest in her. Then she’d asked me if she should invite him over
and make him dinner. I’d told her she’d be a fool not to. They’d been exclusive for the
pasttwomonths.

“Ididthat,”IsaidtoMiguel,leaningclosetohisearsohecouldhearme.

“Whatdidyoudo?”

“IplayedCupid,”Isaid,elbowinghimgentlyintheabdomen.

Hetookholdofmyarm,movedmeoutofthewayofpeopletryingtocutthroughthe

crushofdancers,andthenslippedinfrontofme,lacinghisfingersintomine.“Ihadno
ideaIwasinthepresenceofEroshimself.”

“That’s right,” I said, my mouth going dry just from the way his eyes reflected the

clublightingwhenheturnedtome.

We snaked our way through the crowd until we got to the back, where the private

bottle service area was, and sat down. Miguel’s buddies Brian and James were there, as
wellaslotsofotherpeopleIdidn’tknow.

HetalkedwhileIscannedthecrowd.Whenheslidahandaroundmythigh,slipping

hisfingersunderneaththecuffofthewalkingshortsIwaswearing,Imethisgaze.

“Iamsorryaboutthat.”

IleanedinclosersoIcouldhearhimbetter.“Whatareyousorryfor?”

“Ileftalotofmarks.”

And he had. I’d noticed when I’d taken a shower. Between the hickeys and burns

from his stubble as well as the bruises on my thighs, I looked ravaged. “I don’t care,” I
told him honestly. “But really, it’s only like that this time because it was a little frantic.
Next time we’ll go slower, and since we know each other better, we won’t do bodily
injury.”

“Nexttime?”

Therolloffearcamefast.I’doverstepped,assumedtoomuch;I’d—

“AfterIdidallthat,youwilltrustmeagain?”

Itookarelievedbreath.“Ilovedallthat,soyeah,ofcourseIwill.Wecouldgonow.”

Hecrowdedme,kissingmycheek,andputanarmaroundmyshoulders,tuckingme

intohisside.“Wewillgosoon,butIneedtospeakwithyou.”

“Aboutwhat?”IaskedbeforeIkissedalonghisjawline.

Itwaswonderfullysatisfyingtowatchhimclosehiseyesforamomentasthoughhe

wasstrugglingtoremainincontrol.I’dneverhadsuchaneffectonaman.

“Miguel?”

“About where you will be,” he replied like he was in pain, his voice thick and

guttural.

“Youokay?”Itaunted.

Hefistedhishandinmyshirt.“No,Iamangry.”

“Aboutwhat?”

“Icouldhavebeenhere…allthistimeand…nowyouareleaving.”

Iwas.Thethoughtwassobering.

WhatthehellamIdoing?

Iwasn’ttheretoplayhouse;Iwastherebecausemybrotherstrandedme,plainand

simple. Miguel was, in all actuality, my boss, and I was all over him in a completely
unprofessionalway.

Groaning,Ifellbackagainstthecouch.HowstupidcouldIget?

“Whatareyoudoing?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Brian took a seat on the couch, flopping down,

bumpingintome.

“Youtwodon’townanybetterclothesforbeingoutataclub?”Helaughedatus.

“It’stoohottowearleatherpantsorskinnyjeans,”Irepliedsnidely.“It’stoomuch

troubleforthisweather.”

Miguelhadleftonhisgauzywhiteshirtbutreplacedthepantswithcargoshortsand

kepttheleatherflip-flops.Iwasinshorts,aT-shirt,andsneakers.Wehaddefinitelygone
casual.

“Butit’saclub,”Briansaid,histonesilky,tryingforsexy,asheslouchedintome,his

lipsatmyear.“You’resupposedtolookinviting.”

Iwasn’tgoingtodignifyhisstatementwitharesponse.

“Sodoesthismeanyou’rereadytocomeoutandplay?”

“Excuseme?”Irecoiled,gloweringathimforhittingonmeinfrontofMiguel,who

had his hand on my inner thigh. How was Brian missing the obvious display of
possessiveness?“Whatthefuck’swithyou?”

Brianscowledatme.“Listen,Iwasjusttryingtobe—”

“What?Flirty?Youdon’tevenlikeme,andI’mnotawhorelikemybrother.”

“Inever—”

“What are you two talking about?” Miguel asked, his voice rising ominously as he

leanedforward.

Briancoughed.“IjustthoughtthatHudsonwasfinallyreadytohavesomefun?”

“Pardon?”

“Yeah,youknow—he’sout,foronce.JamesandIhavebeenatthevillaforaweek

now,andhe’snevercomeclubbingwithuseventhoughwe’veinvitedhimoverandover.”

Miguel’seyesnarrowed.“AnddidDalvoncomeoutclubbingwithyou?”

Brian stared at Miguel, and I saw the concern on Brian’s face, the furrowed brows

andpinchedlips.Hewasunsureaboutwhat,exactly,Miguelwasaskinghim.

“Itisayes-or-noquestion.”

“Well,ofcourse,youknowhedid,”Brianreplied.“Dalvonlovedthisscene.”

“Idomuchtraveling,”Miguelsaid,likeBriandidn’tknowthat.“Perhapsyouhave

noticed.”

“Miguel,you—”

“ThisiswhyIwasaskingwhatDalvondidwithyou.”Brianwasfidgetinginhisseat

underMiguel’sweightedstare.“SoImayinferwhatyourplaniswithHudson.”

Brian coughed. “Look, Miguel, I had no idea what your deal was with Dalvon. He

said you two had an open relationship. If that’s not how it was—is—that’s not my fault
becauseIwasledtobelievesomethingtotallydifferent.”

“No,youareright,”heagreed,pressingagainstmyside,bendingforwardjustabit

more, into my personal space—space Brian had already retreated from. “So I will make
myselfclearnowsowearebothonthesamepage,yes?”

Thenodwasquick;clearlyBrianwasintimidated.Hewasn’tscared—Miguelwasn’t

menacing—butIcouldseedefinitealarm.

“Hudsonisnotforyou.”

Morenodding.

“Estáconmigo,”Miguelsaidicily.

“Idon’t—YouknowIdon’tspeak—”

“Heiswithme.”

No words came out of Brian—his mouth just hung open like some would… any

secondnow.

“Isthat,”Migueldemanded,“clearenoughforyou?”

“Yes.”Briancroakedouttheresponse.

“Good.”Miguelleanedbackbesideme,hishandagainonmythightopatme.

IwasgoingtosaythatIwasn’twithanyone,butMiguel’sridiculouslyinsignificant

gesture—touchingmejustbecausehecould,thewayyoudidwithyourloverbecauseyou
weretogether,justthetwoofyou,thefamiliarityofit—guttedme.

I never allowed anyone to claim even a small piece of me. The year and a half I’d

livedwithWill,wewereacouple.I’dlovedhim—orthoughtIdid—butwhenitwasover,
whenithadrunitscourse,whenitwasmoreeffortthanIwasreadytogive,Iendedit.
Therewasnotwingebecausepartofmewouldalwayslovehim.Iwasn’tmadelikethat.

Butnow…already…theideaofleavingtwistedmystomachintoknots.Loveatfirst

sight, first touch, first kiss, anything—it was bullshit and I knew that. All I was
experiencingwasinfatuationsetonstun,butitfeltreal.ItfeltlikeImightneverbehappy
ifIwalkedawayfromMiguelGarcíaArquero.

“Ibelievethatisyourcue,”Miguelsaidtome.

“I’msorry,what?”Iwastheepitomeoflost.

Hetiltedhisheadtowardthebackcorner,andIsawamanthere,handup,smilingat

me.

“Oh.Shit,yeah,”Icroaked,joltingforward,readytogetup.Ineededtogetmyhead

inthegame.

“Mírame,”Miguelordered.

Iturned,unsure.“What’dyou—”

Hegrunted.“Myapologies,youmakemyEnglishdesertme.”

Jesus, how great was that? The man could light me up like the Fourth of July with

justasimpleconfession.Icouldn’tremembereverbeingsohappy.“Yeah?”

Henodded.“Isaid,lookatme.”

SoIdid.

We stared into each other’s eyes. We did a lot of that—gazing, looking, going still

and silent in a sort of seductive communion. It was new for me. It took a lot for me to
actuallybeabletositandjustsharespacewithanotherpersonwithoutthinkingitneeded
to be filled with conversation. Miguel was the first man, the first person at all, that I’d
neverfeltweirdsimplyabsorbingeverydropofattentionfrom.Icouldseemyselftalking
tohim,beingquietwithhim,simplybeingwithhim,andthatwasreallyfuckingscary.He
could very well be the one, the guy, my guy—the man I thought never existed at all
becauseitwasafairytale—andIhadtoleavehimtogohome.

WhatthehellwasIsupposedtodo?

“Youreyes,theyarebeautiful,”hesaid,leaningforwardintomyspace,returningme

tothehereandnow.

His were better. Warm and intense. With them fixed on me, all I wanted to do was

takeoffmyclothesandridehimforaslongashe’dletme.

“Ienjoyhavingthemonme,watchingme.”

“Ifeelthesame,”Iletslip.

“Quierohacerteelamor.”

“Yes,please,”Iagreedbecause“amor”waslove,thatIknew,andtheresthadtobe

somewhereinthesamewheelhouseinmyhead.

“Sogo,doyourbusiness,andcomerightback.Iwillnotleavewithoutyou,andyou

mustleteveryoneknowthat.”

“Are you sure?” I’d been thinking about the ramifications of the wrong people

finding out about Dalvon’s dealings with a known arms dealer. I wanted Miguel to be
careful.“Youhavebusinessestotakeintoconsideration,andifthemediagetsholdofany
of—”

“Theywouldnotdare,”hesaidadamantly.

HeknewIbiza,andSpainforthatmatter,muchbetterthanIdid.“Okay,then,”Isaid,

gettingup,readytoplaymyparttokeepmybrothersafeagain.Miguelgrabbedmyhand
beforeIcouldleave.“What?”

“Thereismuchtosay.”

Inodded.

Hereachedoutandslidhishandaroundthesideofmyface,bringingmeclosersohe

couldwhisperagainstmyear,hislipsbrushingovermylobesendingshiversracingupmy
spine.ApparentlywhereverMigueltouchedwasanerogenouszone.“Ifindtheoutsideof
you…beautiful,butwhathasmecaptivatedmoreisyourheartandmind.Wearesuited,
youandI,andIthinkyouknowthistoo.”

“I’veonly—you’veknownmeaday.”

“Itfeelslongerthanaday.”

Yes,itdid.

Leaningover,Itookholdofhisshirt,andwhenheliftedhischin,Ikissedhim.“Stay

here,likeyousaid.”

“Nothingcouldmoveme.”

Aftertakingaquickbreath,Idartedacrosstheroom,onlyrealizingwhenIgotthere

thatthecontactwasgone.

“Shit,”Igroaned,turningtowalkbacktoMiguel.

Halfway there, my wrist was grabbed as I walked by one of the doors leading to a

privateroom.

Yankedhard,spunaround,Ifoundmyselfshovedupagainstawall,pinnedtherebya

manwithonehandonmythroat.

“What’syourrush,Dal?”

“Lemmego,”Isnapped,strugglingtogetoutofhishold.

“Butweneedaquickword.”

Beside him appeared another man, leaner but just as tall, probably six two, both of

them looking more like lawyers in their sleek bespoke suits and silk shirts than arms
dealers.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, mate,” a third man said, stepping in on the left so I

was faced with three across. “You dyed your hair and put on some muscle. I think lean
blondtwinkisabetterlookonyou.”

“Well,youknow,everybodyneedsachange,”Isaid,becauseitwasmyturntotalk.

“Sowhatthefuckdoyouwant?”

“You’reafunnyguy,”muscleinthemiddlesaidbeforehegavemeahardshotinthe

abdomenthattookallmyairandhadmedoublingover.Heletmefolduponthefloorfor
alongmomentbeforesquattingdownbesideme.“Mybossneedshismoney,”hetoldme.
“Andheneedsitnow.”

“WhatmakesyouthinkIwasabletomovealltheguns?”Iasked,makingsurewe

wereallonthesamepage.

“Becauseifyoudidn’t,we’regoingtohaveabigproblem,”heexplained.

Iwasquiet,allowingenoughtimetopasssothey’dthinkIwasintimidated.“Okay,

okay, I was just waiting for one more sale,” I said, spinning the tale, sitting up with my
backagainstthewall.Yes,thepunchhadhurt,butfarlessformethanitwouldhavefor
Dalvon. He was built much more delicately than I was. “But I’ll have all the money
tomorrow. Just tell me where and when you wanna meet, and don’t fuckin’ hit me
anymore.”

Theguywho’dcomelasttookakneesohe,too,couldfaceme.“Youbetterhaveit,

orwe’llhavetoexplaintothebillionaireoutthereaboutyourlittleridewithBodhi.”

Ride?“What?”

“Youshaggedhim,yougit.”

“Oh,yeah,okay.Well,Iwanttotalktohim,”Isaid,realizingthatmeetingwiththe

bigbosswasanecessarypartofthesting.

“You will,” the second guy chimed in. “Tomorrow. There’s a little outdoor place,

CaféBlanco,inSantJordi.Meetusthereattwo.”

“AndBodhiwillbethere?”

“Hewill.He’llwanttomeetyoutoconcludeyourbusinesspersonally.”

“I’llbethere,”Isaid,exhaling,lettingmyheadclunkbackonthewall.

Thethirdguyofferedmeahandup.Iflippedhimoff.

Theyallleft,outthroughthedoor,backtotheclub’smainroom,laughing,andaftera

few minutes of sitting there, trying to figure out what in the world Dalvon had been
thinking when he agreed to move guns, of all things, the door swung open again, and
Miguelwasthere.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Hesoundedconcernedandonedge.

“IwassittingheretryingtofigureoutwhatintheworldgotDalintothismess.”

Miguelkneltdownbesideme,thecargoshortshe’dchangedintotocomeouttothe

club,squeezingtightaroundhismuscularthighs.Really,tosaythemanwasbuiltnicewas
ahugeunderstatement.Everysinglepartofhimwasmouth-watering.

“Yourbrotherhasagoodheart,”hesaidashelookedmeover.“Heprobablythought,

‘I will keep these guns out of the hands of terrorists,’ and that was as far as he went. I
doubthethoughtbeyondthepresent.”

Inodded.“Heknewheleftmewiththis.”

“Ofcoursehedid,”Miguelconceded,risingandthenofferingmeahandup.

Islippedmyhandintohis,andhehauledmeeasilytomyfeet.

“IamsureDalvonthought,‘MybrothercanbreakupwithMiguelformeandhandle

my little gun-running situation.’” I groaned and Miguel laughed. “He really does have
greatfaithinyourabilities.Ifhelovesanyoneatall,itisyou,”hesaid,leadingmeoutof
theroom.

“HemightactuallyloveWill,youknow,”Isaidgently.“Ihopethatdoesn’thurtyour

feelings.”

Hesqueezedmyhand.“Youarehere.Yourbrotherisofnoconcerntome.”

And the way he said it, how matter-of-fact his tone was, I knew, without question,

that he was telling the truth. I wasn’t standing in for Dalvon—I was the one Miguel
wanted.

Wewentoutthebackdooroftheclub,andJoaquínandEduardoputusbackinthe

HummerH2thatwe’dtakentotheclub.Normally,DuenaandIweredrivenaroundinthe
MaseratiKubang,butsomeonemightactuallytrytotakeashotatabillionaire,andsince
theHummerhadbulletproofglass,itwasthevehicleMiguelrodeinwhenhewashome.
Onthewaytotheclub,I’daskedhimwhyhedidn’thaveagaragefullofsportscarsthat
usuallyaccompaniedgreatwealth,andhesaidhehadoneathishomeinValencia,butnot
in Ibiza. The spectacular car he did have here that he told me I could drive whenever I
wantedwasthe1964AstonMartinDB5—betterknownasJamesBond’scar.Itwaseven
silverlike007’s.

Backatthevilla,aftersayinggoodnighttoJoaquínandEduardo,Miguelgotuseach

abottleofwaterfromthekitchen.Whenhewasstandinginfrontofme,Iputahandon
hischestandaskedifhe’dliketocometomyroom.

“Whywouldyouevenaskthat?”Hewantedtoknow.

Itwasstupid,justmechecking,again,testing,makingsure.“You’reright,I’msorry,”

I said on an exhale before slipping my hand around the side of his neck. “Would you

pleasecometomyroomwithme.”

“No,”hesaid,dippinghisheadsohecouldkissbehindmyear.“Youneedtocometo

mine.”

Isearchedhisface.“Areyousure?That’stheroomyousharedwithDal.”

“Itwasneverhisroom,”hesaid,steppingcloser,intome,histhighpushingbetween

minesoIhadtowidenmystance.“Thevillawasneverhis,noneofit.Hedidnotmake
thishishome.Alreadyinthisshorttime,youhave.”

Irespondedhonestlybecauseitneededtobesaid.“Hewouldhavelovedtomakea

homeforyou.Therewerejusttoomanypeoplehereforhimtobeabletomakethisplace
acozysanctuaryforthetwoofyou.”

“Perhaps,”heobliged.“ButIthinkthatiswhatprivateroomsarefor,yes?Thatisthe

sanctuary for two people, their private place. A home is for everyone. He did not
understandthat.”

“Andso,”Isaid,myvoicecuttingoutonmeforasecondinresponsetotheheatin

his stare, how hard he swallowed, and his deep inhale of breath, “you want me in your
roomwithyou?Inyoursanctuary?”

“Yes,”hehusked.“Comewithme.”

Inodded,andhetookmyhandfromhischestandliftedittohislips.Afteraquick

kiss,hespunmearound,stillwithmyhandinhis,andledmeupthestairstohissuite.

IwasbackwhereI’dstarted.AsIstoodthere,notsurewhattodo,hesteppedinfront

ofmeandtookholdofmyshoulders.

“Attheclub,beforeyouwenttotalktothedealer,whatwereyouthinking?”

“When?”

“Youknowwhen.”

I’dbeenthinkingIwantedtobeinhislap.“Whenyouwerelookingatme…when

youlookatmelikethat”—likehewasnow—“youmakemycockhard.”Ifinishedina
rush,goingforhonesty.WhatdidIhavetolose?

“Good.”Heletgoofmeandcrossedthefloortohisbed.

Iwatchedashetookoffhisclothes,leavingtheshirt,cargoshorts,andbriefsinapile

besidethenightstandbeforeopeningthedrawerandretrievingabottleoflube.

“Clearly,” he said gruffly, gesturing at his rock-hard erection, “you do the same to

me.”

He got on the bed, leaned back against the enormous carved mahogany headboard,

snappedopenthelid,andcoatedhislong,thick,leakingcockinlube.

ImadeanoiseIwasn’tproudof,strippedasfastasIcould,andpracticallyvaulted

onto the bed. Scrambling over to him, I straddled his thighs, put both hands on his
shoulders,andwentinforakiss.

He met me halfway, lifting for my mouth, opening his to receive my tongue as I

shovedithalfwaydownhisthroat.Ifhischucklewasanyindication,myenthusiasmwasa
plus.

I sank down onto his length, the lube allowing him to slide past the tight ring of

clenchingmuscles.Imoanedloudwiththebreach.

“Goslow,”heordered,grabbingholdofmyhipstomakeitso.

“Iwouldhaveriddenyouwithonlyspitintheclub,”Igaspedashefilledme.

“Iknow,”hemurmured,takingholdofmyshaft,bobbingandbumpingbetweenus,

leavingwetsmearsofprecomeonhisabdomen.“Isawitinyoureyes.”

As he squeezed me tight in his hand, I levered down at the same time, impaling

myselfcompletely,myasspressedagainsthisballs.

AlongstreamofSpanishtorefromhischest,resonantandlow,andIrockedmyhips

forward,savoringthefeelofhiminsideme,pulsing,thickening,evenasIcravedmore.

“Takeyourpleasure.”

Ididn’thavetobetoldtwice.

Ilifteduponlytodropbackdown,hearinghimgaspatthesametimeIdid.Hefeltso

good,andnotjusthisamazing,hugecockfillingme,buthishandssqueezingmyass,his
mouthmaulingmine,andthemellifluouslanguagethatflowedoutofhim.

Beautiful.Allofit,allofhim,simplymorethanIcouldbeartosee,feel,touch,and

taste.HewasagiftIcouldn’tkeepbutwantedwitheverythinginme.

Bearingdown,wantinghimasdeepasIcouldgethim,Irodehimhard,breakingthe

kisssoIcouldbreathe,headback,eyesclosed,chasingmyorgasmwhileIheldontohim.

“Estástanhermosoasi,”hebreathedout.

I couldn’t… I was there, ready, and I could feel my muscles clenching around him.

“You need to—” His hand jerking me off was floundering, losing tempo, but it hardly
mattered.Iwassoclose.“Come.”

“Mírame!”

Iknewthatone—thatcommand—soImethisheatedgazeandheldit.

Henodded,allhiswordsapparentlygone.

“Miguel,”IyelledasIcameapartwithhimburiedinmyass,splatteringhisabdomen

andchest,ridingoutmysplinteringorgasm.Hefistedonehandinmyhair,puttheother
onmythigh,andheldmestillashecamehotandthickinsideme.

Hisdominanceandstrengthandthepowerittooktokeepmefrommovingcombined

withmyclimaxhadwashedmyvisionwhiteforamoment.

“Hudson,”hewhispered.

Ittookalongminutetofocus.ButwhenIdid,Iwasrewardedwithhissmile.Ilicked

mylipsandheeasedmeforwardsohecouldkissme.

“Oh….” I sighed into his mouth as he wrapped me in his arms, rolling me to my

back.

I didn’t want him to pull out—I needed him where he was—and he didn’t seem in

anyhurrytoseparate.

Onekissbecameanotherandanother,andwhenhefinallyeasedfrommybody,the

factthathedidn’tleavethecircleofmyarmsorbreakthesealofourlipswascomforting.
Hewantedtheconnectionsaswell.

“This…us…youaremeanttobemine.”Heliftedhisheadsohecouldstaredownat

me,soIcoulddrowninhiseyes.“JustasIammeanttobeyours.”

Icouldn’tbreathe.Notaroundthebeatingofmyheartinmychestorthethickswell

of want in my throat. He was right there—right within my grasp, but it was too much,
muchtoomuchformetotakein.“Iknowyouare…weare,”Ifinallywhispered,because
if I said it too loud, it would become a truth I didn’t want to face. “But… I have to go
home.”

“Ithinkyouaretherealready.”Hekissedmeagain,stealingawayanythoughtofmy

slippingoutofhisembrace.“Withme,youarealreadyhome.”

ChapterNine

IWOKE for my regular morning run the following day and was surprised when Miguel
wasawakeaswellandwantedtogowithme.

“It’searly,though,andyoujustgothome,”Iremindedhim,admiringhisnakedbody

asherosefromthebedtostandinfrontofme.

“Youareleavingsoon,”hesaidtersely.“Everysecondcounts.”

I forced a smile even as my heart seized for a moment, the idea of leaving him so

muchmorethanpainful.“YoumakeitsoundlikeIcouldn’tvisit.”

“Ofcourseyoucan,butwhenwillyouhavethetime?”

“You could visit me,” I said, fighting the urge to take his beautiful uncut penis in

hand.

“Thesameistrueforyou.”

“SoifIstayed,you’dstillbedoingallyourtraveling?”

Hisfacebrightened.“Youwouldconsiderstaying?”heaskedcheerfully.

“Notifyouweregoingtobegoneallthetime.”

“Iwouldnotbe.Justtwiceayearatmost.”

“YouknowIlovethevillaandeveryoneinit.IfIwastravelingallthetimewithyou,

itwouldn’tbehome.”

“Iknow.”

“So I would have to stay here with your mother and watch over the businesses just

likeIamnow.”Hewasmakingthechoicesimplewiththewayhewastalking,becauseI
wouldneverallowmyselftobeleftbehind.

“Yes, of course, but you have to understand, I stayed away because of Dalvon,” he

insisted,cuppingmycheekinhishand.“IhaveahouseinValencia,butIwouldsellitand
makemyhomehereyear-roundifyoustayed.”

Igrinnedwide.“MaybeyoushouldletmeseethehouseinValenciafirst.”

Hechuckledwarmlybeforereachingforthebackofmyneckandgrippingmetight.

“Donotteaseme;myhearthurtssimplylookingatyou.”

Lunging, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him breathless, clinging

tight and grinding against him. I was flat on my back in the bed seconds later, shorts
aroundmyknees,withmycockswalloweddownthebackofhisthroat.

“Miguel!”Icried,handsinhisthick,glossyhair,archingupoffthebedasIheardthe

capofthelubeopenbeforeheplungedslickfingersdeepinsidemyass.“Fuck!”

He wasn’t gentle as he yanked my shorts down one leg, hooked my legs with his

arms, and shucked me forward. That he just didn’t take me was driving me out of my
mind.

“What’reyoudoing?”Ialmostyelledathim.

“Quierofollarmetuculo,”hesnarled.

“Yes,God,whateveryouwant,wheneveryouwant.Youdon’thavetoaskmeever

again.”

Theblownpupilsofhiseyesfixedonme.

“Ialwayswantyou,doyouunderstand?Areweclear?Doyougetit?”

Folding me in half, he pressed against my hole for only seconds before he thrust

insidehardanddeep.

HisnamefilledtheroomwhenIscreameditout.

“DidIhurt—”

“No, God, don’t stop,” I begged, panting, my voice ragged as I clawed the sheets,

scramblingforpurchase.

“Corazón,”hepurred.

Thepoundinghegaveme,holdingmeimmobileasheusedme,wasasweetanswer

tomypleading.IunderstoodthenthatIhadbeenwrongthenightbefore.Nomatterhow
many times Miguel and I went to bed, sex would remain wild and desperate, full of
yearningandhunger,andwouldend,always,incompleteanduttermutualsatisfaction.

IhadneverfeltbetterthanwhenIhadhimonme,inme,hisbig,hardbodycovering

mine,pinningmedownandholdingmetight.

HowwasIsupposedtoleavehim?

HowcouldIgivemyheartandbodytohimbutnotstay?

ButifIdidstay,howcouldherespectmeifIwasn’tmyownperson?HowwouldI

beanydifferentfromDalvonifIdidn’tpaymyownway,doformyself?

Gently,hetappedmyforehead,bringingmyeyesbacktohis.

“Justpromisemeyouwillconsidereverything,”hemurmured.

“Ipromise.”

“ThisisallIcanaskfor.”

THE POLICE were set up and waiting as I took a seat at Café Blanco. The huge sport
duffelbesidemewasfilledwithcash:hundredsonthetopofeachbandedstackofmoney,
dollarbillsbelowthem.TheplanwastounzipthebagjustenoughsoBodhi’screwcould

seethetoplayerbutnotallowanyofthesetstobetakenfromthebag.Itwas,apparently,
standard operating procedure when making an exchange in public. No one examined
anythingtoocloselysinceitwasunderstoodthatifanyonefuckedup,theotherguysknew
where to find you. Certainly, if things went south, Bodhi Michelson and his men knew
where I—or Dalvon in this case—lived. So all in all, every possible outcome had been
taken into consideration. I should have been scared, hesitant, or at least worried about
gettingcaughtinthecrossfire,butaftersexatthevilla,ravenouskissesinthebackseatof
theHummeronthewaythere,andfinally,givingthemanIalreadythoughtofasmine—
eventhoughIwasstillplanningonleaving—ablowjobthatmademecomeaswell,Iwas
waypastbeinganythingbutravished.

Betweenmyhoodedeyes,swollenlips,tousledhair,andrumpledclothes,itwasnot

hardtotellwhatI’dbeendoing.

EscamillaignoredtheobviousandhadGoyawiremeforsound.Iwastoldabouta

trackingdevicesewnintothesideofthebagandanotherinthehandle,andthatasniper
ontopofthesmallchurchacrossthestreetwaswatchingthroughascope.Therewerealso
severalundercovercopsposingasciviliansmillingaboutinthearea.EscamillaandGoya
hadmovedtothevanacrossthestreetwithMiguel.

“Hudson,”Escamillasaidinmyear,“areyouallright?”

“I’mgood,”Isaid,thenyawned.

“Areyougoingtofallasleep?”

“Icouldnap,I’mnotgonnalie.”

“You—what—no,giveme—”

“Micielo,”Miguelmurmured.“WewillhaveanearlydinneratCaravanandthengo

homeandhaveanapassoonasthisisdone.”

“Thatsoundsgreat,”Isighed.

“Donotgethurt.”

“Iwon’t,Ipromise.”

IheardagrowlbeforeIgotEscamillaback.“Focus!”hebarked.

I grunted as I saw a car pull up in front of the small open-air shopping area to the

rightofthecafé.ItwasablackBMWsedan—verysleek,veryseriouslooking—andout
ofitclimbedtwooftheguysfromthepreviousnightandathirdmanIdidn’tknow.He
hesitatedwhenhesawmebutseemedtoshakeoffhisreservations,becauseheclosedthe
cardoorafteramomentandwalkedovertome.Hestoppedbesidethetable,pickedupa
chair,turneditaround,andtookaseatacrossfromme,foldinghisarmsonthebackofit.

“Youchangedyourappearance,Dal,”hebegan,smilingatme.“Youweren’tthinking

ofrunningoutonme,wereyou,mate?”

The other men with him, his henchmen, jolted like it hadn’t occurred to them that,

thatwasthereasonformytransformationfromatwinktoamoremuscularversion.

“No.”

“Why’dyoudyeyourhair,then?”

“Changeisgood.”

He made a face. “Why orange, though? Were you going for red and messed up?

Whaddyacallthat,copperpennyorsomeshit?”

“It’snatural,actually.NormallyIbleachitblond.”

Henodded.“Well,Iwouldgobacktoitanddroptheweight.You’rewayhotterthe

otherway.”

“I’lltakeitunderadvisement,”Iassuredhim,thecomment,Ifound,notstingingat

all.Miguel,itturnedout,likedmebest,wouldpickmeoverDalvoneverydayoftheweek
and twice on Sunday. Whatever others thought didn’t matter anymore; his was the only
opinionIgaveadamnabout.

Hetippedhisheadatthebag.“Isthatmymoney?”

“Yep.Iwasgoingtogiveyouacashier’scheck,butIthoughtyou’dpreferthecash.”

Hesnortedoutalaugh.“You’refunny.Youwannacomehaveadrinkwithmeafter

wedoourbusiness?”

“Ithoughtyoulikedtwinks,”Irepliedflippantly.

“You’lldo,”hesaid,leaningforwardandreachingforme.

Ileanedoutofhisarm’s-length.

“Really,”hesaidwithasneer,“thathowitisnow?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,itcertainlydoesn’tlooklikeyou’restarvedforcompany,eh?Someone’sbeen

fuckingyou.”

Ishrugged.

Hesnickered.“IsitMiguel,orareyoushaggingoneofhisfriendsagain?”

“OnlyMiguel,”Isaid,becauseIcouldn’thelpit.

“Oh,really?Pretendingtobefaithfulforabit,arewe?”

“Listen,doyouwantyourfuckin’moneyornot?”

Hescoffed.“Hitanerve,didI?”

Icoughed.“SoIhadahundredgunsto—”

“Fuckyou,ahundredguns,”hesnapped.“Youhadfivehundredriflesandtworocket

launchers,youfuckin’whore!”

Iwaited.

“Howmuchmoney’sinthatbag?Didyougetmethewholemillion,ordidyou—”

“A million was a lot for what you gave me,” I retorted. “AK-47s don’t cost that

much.”

“Youlittleshit!”heroared,clearlyforgettingwherehewas,ashegotup,handsfisted

athissides,lookinglikehewasreadytotakeashotatme.

“Gimme a break,” I flared, glowering at him. “I got your fuckin’ money, took my

hundredthousand—”

“Wesaid5percent,not10.”

Wow.Dalvoncouldn’tevenfakenegotiate.“Fuckyou.10.”

Hegrabbedholdofthefrontofmypoloandyankedmeforward.“5,orIcantakeone

ofyourhandsintrade.”

“Fuck you! 10,” I insisted, “or I’ll tell the cops everything—that you made me sell

gunsforyouandthatyouthreatenedtokillmeifIdidn’t.”

“I did threaten to kill you if you didn’t sell my guns for me. That’s only because I

knowyouknowlotsofveryrichpeoplethroughMiguel.Iwouldneverhavetrustedyou
withmyentireinventoryifyouweren’tthebillionaire’spieceofass.”

Inodded,tryingtoshovehimawaybeforehefeltthewireundertheT-shirtandpolo

Iwaswearing.“Fine.”

“Fine,what?”

“Fine,youonlytrustedmebecauseI’mwithMiguel.Idon’tgiveafuck.Notfinefor

the 5 percent. It’s 10 or the deal’s off and I call my guys and they bring you your guns
back.”

Inanswer,heleanedoverandgrabbedthebag,draggingitclosebeforeunzippingit

quickly.EventhoughIknewtherewasonlyafractionofthemoneyBodhiexpectedinthe
duffel,thatmuchcashinasmallspacestilllookedimpressive.

“Who’dyousellthegunsto?”Bodhiasked.

“That’s none of your goddamn business,” I retorted angrily. “You gave me guns to

sellforyou,andIdid.”

“You’reright,Idid,andI’lldoitagainwheneverIlike.”

Istoodupabruptly.“Ourbusinessisconcluded.”

Hestoodaswell.“Listen,youlittleasshole.Idon’t—”

Thesirenscuthimoff.

“Bodhi!”oneoftheguysfromthenightbeforeyelled.

Hereachedforme,butIwasfaster,leapingaway.

Thecafé,aswellastheentiresquare,swarmedwithpolicemen,andBodhiwasonthe

ground in seconds, as were the two men who’d accompanied him. Escamilla and Goya
werethererightbeforeMiguel,whograbbedmybicep,yankedmeforwardintohisarms,
andhuggedmetight.

“Wewillneverdothatagain.”

“No,”Iagreed,takingadeepbreath.“Let’snot.”

EscamillasteppedinfrontofusonceMiguelletmego.“Istillneedyoutocomein

andgiveusareport.”

“Certainly,” I said, feeling the adrenaline starting to ebb. “And there’s a guy

missing.”

“Oh?Who’sthat?”

“I dunno his name, but you should ask them. There were three guys last night, and

twoofthemarehere,”Isaid,indicatingthemenbeingloadedintothebackofoneofthe
policecars.“AndBodhi’shere,ofcourse,butyou’restillmissingone.”

“Wewillfollowup.”

Inodded.

“Wewillvisittomorrowmorning,”Migueltoldthelieutenant.“Wearegoingtotake

therestofthenightawayfromallthis.”

“Certainly,”Escamillaacknowledged.“Butwewillneedyoutocometothestation

earlyinthemorning.”

“Yes.” Miguel clipped the word, taking my hand and leading me away from the

policecarsandthegatheringcrowd.

OnceinhisHummer,hedrapedhisarmaroundmyshoulderandpulledmeintohim.

“I’mhungry,”Isaid,chuckling.“Areyouhungry?”

“Iamstarving,”hesaid,laughing,hishandinmyhair,massagingmyhead.“Joaquín,

driveustoCaravan,please.”

“Yes,boss.”

Wewerequiet,enjoyingthecloseness,whenEduardocaughtmyeyeintherearview

mirror.

“What?”

“Youdidverywell.Iwasproudofyou.”

Ismiledathim.“Thankyou.”

“Butyouwillneverbeallowedtotakesuchchancesagain.IfJoaquínandIarestill

here after tonight, we will make sure of it, and if it is not us, we will let your new
bodyguardsknow.”

“Idon’tunderstand.”

Heclearedhisthroat.“ItisourfaultthatDalvonwaseverapproachedbythosemen,”

hesaid,lookingatMiguelnow.“Noneofuscaredenoughtowatchhimthatclosely.”

Miguelremainedsilent.

“We have discussed it,” Eduardo said, indicating himself and Joaquín. “And if you

needustoresign,wecertainlywill.”

“No,you—”

“ItisforelseñorGarcíatodecide,hijomío.”

“Thefuckitis.”

Miguelturnedtome.

“Thefuckitis,”Irepeated.

Oneofhiseyebrowsliftedasheregardedme.

“They work for me, right? The whole villa and everyone in it belong to me, don’t

they?”

Miguelnodded.

“I mean—for as long as I’m here… all the choices that pertain to the villa and the

businessesaremine.”

“Yes,theyare.”

IsmiledwideandreachedouttopatEduardo’swideshoulder.“SothenJoaquínand

Eduardostayon.Whateverdidordidn’thappenwithDalvonhasnothingtodowithhow
things are now. You know they would take great care of you, your mother, Duena,
everyone.”

“Idoknowthat,”Miguelconceded.“IwouldagreethatEduardoandJoaquínshould

stayonandcontinuetheirguardianshipofthesecurityofthevilla.”

“Thankyou,”Eduardosaidgruffly.“Yourtrustmeansagreatdeal.”

“Itdoes,”Joaquínechoed.“Agreatdeal.”

IpattedMiguel’sleg.

“Whatwasthatfor?”

“You’reagoodman,MiguelGarcía.”

“Yes, I know,” he said smugly. “Perhaps you should keep that in mind before you

decidetogetonaplaneandflyawayfrommeforever.”

Ididaslowpantohim.

“Yes?”

“Don’t‘yes’me.Whatthehell?”

Heshrugged.

“Thatwasalittledramatic,don’tyouthink?”

“Perhaps,”hegranted.

“Itwouldneverbeforever.”

“No,”hehuffed,hisvoicecrackly.“Itwillonlyfeelassuch.”

Wewerequiettherestofthewaytotherestaurant.

ChapterTen

WHEN WE arrived at Caravan, Anita was thrilled to see Miguel and seated us
immediately,evenwiththelineoutthedoor.Shekeptatinyfour-chairtableintheback,
closetothepatio,justincaseIstoppedby.Itwastechnicallymytable,butshetoldhim
thatfortonight,itcouldbehis.Whenhekissedhercheek,shealmostswooned.

Sittingatthetablewithhim—eating,drinkingwinebytheglass,andlisteningtohim

talk about all the traveling he’d done over the summer—had me captivated. When he
stopped,IlookedupfromthemarinatedanchoviesIwashooveringdown.

“IwantyoutocometoValenciawithme.”

“What?”

“IwanttoshowyouwhereIlivebeforeyouleave.”

“ButIhavetoworkforschooland—”

“You can take a week so I can walk you down the streets at night, take you to the

beachduringtheday,showyouthePlazaEsparto,walkyoudownCalledeSanVincente,
andtakeyoutolaplazadelAyuntamiento.”

ListeningtoMigueltalkwasonething,watchinghisfacelightupashegotexcited

wasanevenbiggertreat.

“Iwanttotakeyoutomyfavoritesalsaclubandshowyouoff.”

Iscoffed.“Ican’tdanceatall,youknow.”

“Iwillteachyou.”

“Idon’thavetimeto—”

“Yes,youdo,mivida.Youdo.”

Himandhisdamnendearmentsshouldnothaveturnedmyresolvetojelly.“Wecan’t

leave your mother alone—what if your sister and brother come visit when we’re not
there?”

Histurntoscoff.“YouthinkIhavenotaddressedthisalready?”

“No,youdidn’t.Theynevershowed.”

“ButIwenttoseethem.”

“Youdid?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“YoufellasleepyesterdaybetweenwhenImadelovetoyouthefirsttimeandwhen

wewenttotheclubtomeetDalvon’sarmsdealers.”

“Dalvon’s arms dealers” was funny. And I had passed out; he was right. “You got

up?”

“Idid.”

“Andyouwenttoseeyoursiblings?”

“Firstoneandthentheother,yes.”

“Sowhat’stheirdeal?”

He smiled wickedly, popping a stuffed olive into his mouth. “They needed money,

andtheythoughttheywouldtakemamáandconvincehertoconvincemetohelp.”

“Oh,forfuck’ssake,whynotjustcomeandaskyou?”

HegesturedatmelikeYes,that.

“Andso?What’dyousaytothem?”

“Isaidthattheyhadtogiveyouabusinessproposal,andifitwasagoodone,thatI

wassureyouwouldfundit.”

“Me?Idon’thaveanycontroloverfunding.”

“You do in this instance. And if you stay, then the businesses you have been

overseeingcouldbeyoursalongwithwhateverventureyouenterintowithmysiblings.”

It was so kind of him, so loving, but he was trying to get me to stay and I knew a

bribewhenIheardit.“Icouldneveracceptthatkindofcharityfromyou.”

Hemadeaface.“Idonotspeakofcharity.Youwouldhavetobuymeout.”

Ismiledwidebecausehere,finally,wasthebusinesstycoonI’dreadabout,theman

who headed one of the largest shipping conglomerate’s in the world. Buy him out…
“Haveyoulostyourmind?Whatareyou––”

“Listen,misol,I––”

Misol…mysun…Jesus.Hewasfullofsuchbeautifulwords,Iwasbesotted.

“You are not listening to me,” he snapped. The endearment had come like it was a

matteroffact,likeofcourseIwas,butweweretalking,hello,andhewantedmetofocus.

Irebounded.“Buyyououtofyourownbusinesses?”

“Yes,ofcourse.Youaremylover,butthisisbusiness,profitandloss.Fuckingyou

doesnotchangethat.”

No,itdidn’t,andmystomachflippedoverattheopportunityIwasbeingoffered.

“Iwouldgiveyouoneyeartopaymebackmyinitialinvestmentineach.”

Icoulddoitinhalfthat,justwithwhattheclubwasmaking.“Andwhatmakesyou

thinkIcouldpayyou?”

“Well, all three businesses were losing money when I left, and now all three are

makingmoney,”hedeclared.“SoIknowyoucan.Youjustneedtodecideifyouwantto.”

“Istillneedtofinishschool.”

“SchoolcouldbefinishedhereinSpain.”

“I don’t want people to think that you’re my sugar daddy and that you gave me a

handout.”

He shrugged. “It does not matter how it looks, only how it is, and everyone here

knowswhatyouhavedone.Theyalreadythinktheyworkforyou,andifyoubuymeout,
thentothem,nothingreallychanges.Formysisterandbrother,theywouldbedependent
onyoufromthestart,sotheywouldnotseeitashavinganythingtodowithme.”

Istudiedhisface.

“But again, it matters not how any of it looks if you cannot make your peace with

howitallbegan.”

“WithmebeingstrandedinIbiza,youmean.”

“Yes.”

“Andbeingseenasyourarmcandy,”Isighed.

“Yes.”

Ichuckled.“LikeIcouldeverevenbethat.”

“Mevuelvesloco,”hegrumbled.

“Iknow,”Isaid,leaningacrossthetableforakiss.

Hemadesuretomeetmeinthemiddle.

ITHOUGHTabouteverythinghe’dsaid.

When I granted his sister, Marta, and his brother, Ramón, the funding for their

translationservice—bringingSpanishspeakerstogetherwithglobalbusinessesinneed—
weimmediatelywentfrombeingatoddstobeingfamily.Iinvitedthemtothevilla,and
theyapologizedtoInés,who,likeeverygoodmotherontheplanet,tookthembackinto
herlifewithoutquestion.Martawasespeciallypenitent,asshehadbeentheclosestofall
her siblings to their mother. When Marta revealed she was pregnant, there was a lot of
hugging and kissing and crying and more Spanish than I could track since my
understandingwaslimitedtoMiguel’sendearmentsandwhathesaidinbed.

“Ifyouhadtoldme,hijamía,”Inés,weepingcopiously,saidtoMarta,“Iwouldhave

gonewillingly.”

Martalostitalloveragain,andMiguelgotloud,askingeveryonewhattheywanted

todrink.

Whenweallglaredathim—Duena,me,Inés,andevenEduardoandJoaquín—hegot

the idea that he was being insensitive, rolled his eyes, and flopped down in his chair to

sulk.

Later,Ifoundhimoutontheporticooverlookingthebeach.Iwalkedupbehindhim

andwrappedhiminmyarms.

“If my mother leaves to live with Marta and you return to Boston, I am selling the

villa,”heinformedme.

Itriedtopullaway,wantingtoseehisface,butheheldontomyarms,keepingthem

aroundhim.

“Holdtighter,”hecommanded.

SoIdid.

MY PASSPORT showed up with a note from Will about how much he appreciated
everythingI’ddoneforDalvon.Hedidn’tknowthehalfofit.

Twoweeksafterthebust,Dalvonfinallyreturnedmycall.

“Guns?”Isaidinsteadofhello.

“Ithoughtyou’dbeproudofme.”

Igrunted.

“Oh,comeon,”hewhined.

“YourealizeyouleftmeandMiguelinthemiddleofanarmsdeal,right?”

Hemadeanoise.

“Youdid,asshole.”

“Butyoutookcareofit,right?Iknewyouwould.”

“You’refullofshit.”

“Whatdoyouwantmetosay?”

“Iwantyoutoapologizeandmeanit.”

“But why would I apologize, when I knew I couldn’t handle something but I knew

youcould?Howdoesthatmakeanysense?”

Hewasexhausting,but…“Iloveyou,”Isighed.

“What?”

“You’re my brother, Dal, and there won’t ever come a time when I’m not here for

you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”Ipromised.“Justdon’tdoanythinghorribletomeforawhile.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding more like himself than he had in a long time. It just

showedthateveryoneneededalittlereassurancesometimes.

“So,how’sWill?”

Silence.

“Dal?”

“Ohmygod,Hud,I’vebeencookingforhimeverynight,himandsomeoftheother

residents,andeveryoneappreciatesmesomuch.”

“Oh.I’mglad.”

“And guess what? I enrolled at a community college, and I’m getting all my core

classesoutofthewaysoIcanthinkabouttransferringtooneoftheuniversitieshereina
yearorso.”

“What’reyouthinkingofstudying?”

“IthinkIwanttoworkwithkids,likebeaguidancecounselororsomething.Iwanna

help,youknow?”

“You’dbegreatatthat,”Isaidsincerelybutkeptmyoptionsopen.Hemightchange

hismind,andifhethoughtI’djudgehim,he’dgomonthswithoutcallingmeontheoff
chanceI’dbedisappointed.“Butwhateveryoudecide,I’llbetheretosupportyou.”

“Jesus,Hud…fuck,man….Thankyou.”Hewastouched;itwasthereinhisvoice.

“Whenyoudecidetofinallylayeverythingdown,yougoalltheway,huh?”

“What’reyoutalkingabout?”

“I mean, usually you carry your armor and your weapons and attack people before

theycanseeyou’revulnerableoranything,butnow…didMigueldothat?”

“Dowhat?”

“Areyoufinallyinlove?”

“What?”

“Ohshit,”hegasped.“Doesheloveyoutoo?”

“Dal—”

“No-no-no, I don’t care. You’ve been amazing about me and Will, and—wouldn’t

thatbecrazyifweendedupwiththeothertwin’sex?Howwildwouldthatbe?”

Very.

“It’slikewepickedfortheotherguy.That’snutsandsuchatwinthing,huh?”

“Yeah,”Iadmitted.“Itis.”

“Don’toverthinkit.Icantellyou’restartingtodothatalready.”

“No,I—Ijust….Idon’twanthimtoeverthinkhehastokeepme.”

“Ithinkthat’sallinyourhead.Ifitfeelsright,thenitisandseriously,Miguelisthe

kindofmanwhodoesexactlywhathewants.He’sreallyselfish,youknow.”

“Pottokettle.”

“No, you know what I mean. He would never let you stay there if he didn’t want

you.”

“Heletyoustay.”

“Ouch.”

“Oh,fuckyou,youknowwhatImean.”

“Ido,actually.AndIknewIwasoutofthereassoonashegothomefromthislast

trip.Weweresonotcompatible.Thethingshewantedmetotakecareof….therewasno
way.”

“Sure.”

“And between you and me…. Miguel’s a little bit tame in the sack. I like to be

manhandledand—”

“Youcanstopnow,”Inearlygrowled,becausewhathedidn’tknowwasalot.Just

thinkingaboutMiguelinbedwithanyonebutmeturnedmemurderousinaninstant.

“Imean,really,youshouldinvestinsometoys,maybe,ortrysomehandcuffsand—”

“Pleasestop.”

“Now,Willontheotherhand—holycrap!I’veneverhadamoreattentivelover.”

Somehowthatcalmedme,becauseclearlyhehadnoideaaboutanything.Will’sidea

ofwildwasdoingitonthecouch.“You’remakingmenauseous.”

Hecackled,andIsmiledinspiteofmyself.

“You’renotgonnastaythere,though,right?NotinIbiza.That’snotyou.”

Wasn’tit?

“Imean,I’mallforyouandMiguel,butthatneedstobealong-distancethingfora

while.Yougottacomehomeandfinishschool.”

“Icanfinishhere.”

“Butnotrightaway.You’dhavetoquithereandthenstartthere,wouldn’tyou?”

Iprobablywould.

“Andthat’snotwhatyousaidyouwanted.”

No,itwasn’t.I’dworkedtoohardnottofinishontimeandreallystartacareer.

“Imean,Igetit,right?Iknowhowimportantschoolistoyounow.Willexplainedit

tome,whatyouwantedforyourlife.”

“Didhe?”

“Yeah.Imean,Iknowyoudidn’tloveWill,buthesaidyouwerekindtohim,and

fair,andthatyoualwaysrespectedhisplantobecomeadoctor.Youwerealwaysgoodto
him.”

“That’snicetohear.”

“So I think it’d be a mistake for you to stay in Ibiza. You need to come home and

finishwhatyoustartedandnotpunishmeforstrandingyouthere.”

“Ipromiseyou,I’mnotmad.Notanymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, you gave me this amazing experience and new friends and a real

adventure,”Ireasoned.“Butmostly,youputmeherewithMiguel,andforthatIcannever
thankyouenough.”

“Sayit.”

AndIcould.TomybrotherIcouldsayit,justnottothemanhimself.“Ilovehim.”

Hecaughthisbreath.

“IjusthavetodecidewhatIcanreallydo.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But listen. I just want you to know that you coming home

won’tendyouandMiguel.It’sjustalittledistance,andhe’srich,remember?He’lldothe
long-distancethingforyou,Iknowhewill.”

“Ihopeyou’reright.”

Hewasquietontheotherend,andIunderstoodthatnothing,really,wasforcertain.

ChapterEleven

THEWEEKSspunby,speedingupattheendtoanimpossiblerush.Itfeltlikethemovies
whentheskywentfromlighttodarktoshowthepassageofdays.Iworked,Igotbetterat
all facets of my job, I threw Duena a lavish engagement party and attended the one she
threw for Cristina—they had become fast friends—and even allowed El Sueño to be
closedonenightandusedforEduardo’sverytamestagparty.

MigueltookmetoValencia,andIfellmadlyinlovewiththecity.Noonecaredthat

MiguelandIwalkedhandinhandeverywhere.I’dneverbeenanyplacewheretwomen
didn’tgetastraylook,butSpainhadadecadeofgaymarriageunderitsbelt,sonoone
gave a damn. I got the most looks when I went dancing with Miguel because he moved
likeliquidsexoutonthefloor,andIhadtwoleftfeet.Peoplewonderedwhatthegodwas
doing with me until they saw the way he looked at me, all besotted adoration. He was
crazyaboutmeandIwascrazyabouthim,andneitherofussaidawordbecauseIwas
going home to finish school, to finish what I started, and that was the end of the
discussion.

Whenitwastimetotakemetotheairport,IbeggedhimtoletEduardotakeme,or

Duena.ButMiguelinsisted,andbeforethat,hetookmetothecandlemaker—thesame
onewho’dmadethecandlesIburnedinourbedroom.Thedeliciousmixtureofsugared
oranges,pine,musk,atraceofvanilla,fig,andlimesoundedodd,butourlovemakingwas
nowimprintedwiththescent,andMiguelwassureIneededatleastthreeofthecandlesto
takehomewithme.Torememberhim—asifIcouldeverforget.

Andnow,standingonthecurbandwatchinghimgetintotheAstonMartin,Icouldn’t

breathe.

Holyshit.

ItwasjustlikeWillhadsaidwouldhappensomeday,andwhathehopedforme,that

Iwouldlovesomeonesomuchthattheverythoughtofbeingwithoutthemwouldleave
meunabletodrawbreath….

God.

Ishouldn’thavelethimholdmyhand,liftittohislips,orbrushsoftkissesoverthe

backofmyknuckles.Itwasamistake.Becausenowthethoughtofgettingonaplane…
going…andnotseeinghim,notsleepingbesidehiminour—his—bed…wasmakingme
light-headedjustimagininghowlonelyIwasgoingtobewithouthim.

Ibentover,myhandsonmyknees,andtriedtopushairthroughmylungs.

“¿Mi vida?” Miguel asked, having gotten back out of the car. He was there—as I

knewhewouldalwaysbeifIjustlethim—atmyside,hishandonmyback,slippingitup
undermyshirtsohecouldtouchmyskin,strokegently,tenderlyprovidingcomfort.

Mi vida. My life. I liked that one best, and damn, he wasn’t playing fair. I was a

suckerforallthepetnamesheused.Theysoundedsorealwhenhesaidthembecauseof
thewayhisvoicedeepened,rumbled,dredgingthewordsupfromhissoul,wherehislove
formelived.

“Ihavetofinishschool,”IsaidinsteadofwhatIneededto.Ikeptstaringdownatthe

sidewalk.

“Yes,”heagreedquickly.“Wewillhaveallofthattransferred,andyouwillhavea

degree. It will be more school for you here, but you were not done anyway. It is only a
littlemore,butyouarenotafraidofhardwork,Iknowthis.”

“No,” I said, straightening to look at him. “You know exactly what it’ll take, don’t

you.”

“Ofcourse,Ichecked.”Hewasalwaysprepared.“Theseareadministrativematters,

nothingthatyouhavetoreturntoBostontodo.Itcanallbeaccomplishedoverthephone
orInternet.Andifthereissuchthatyoumustdothere,Ihaveaprivatejetthatwilltake
you.”

Iknewhedid.“Ilikefirstclasstoo.”

“Whatever you want,” he swore. “But there is nothing for you there in Boston that

wouldnotbebetterhere.”

“ButIneedajob.Ihavetopullmyweightandcontribute.”

“You already do—every day. You do more than you know for all of us… for me…

butIunderstand.Youwillneverbeakeptmanlikeyourbrother.”

“No.”

“Then take me up on my offer for the businesses, because you cannot work for

anyoneelsebutyourself.”

“Ijustdon’twantanyspecialfavors.Iwantanysuccesstobeearned.Iwanttoget

thingsfromhardwork.Iwannaplayfair.”

“Why?”

“Sorry?”

“Youspeakofthingsbeingfair,butwhymusttheybe?”

“BecauseifIearnthingsmyself,they’remine,”Isaid,tryingtoexplainitsohe’dget

it.“Thentheycan’teverbetakenawayfromme.”

“Soanopportunitythatyouhavenotmadeyourself,thiscanbetakenaway.”

“Yes!”

“How?Woulditnotbeyoursonceyoumadeitso?”

Logic?Hewasthrowinglogicatmenow?

“Thereisapointwhenthepastmustbejettisonedandthepresentembraced,yes?”

“Yes,”Iagreedhesitantly.

“Youworkveryhard,andsimplybecauseyouhaveagift,inthebeginning,doesnot

meanthatitiseasytofollowthrough.Anartistmaycreatesomethingfromnothing,but
thatdoesnotmeanthattherewasnoworkinvolved.”

Inodded.

“Think…ifyouworkforyourself,youcantravelwithme.”Asmileflirtedwithhis

mouth,deepeningtheheatinhispeat-darkeyes.“IamnottooproudtosayIwantthat,
thatIneedyouwithme.Yougroundme,mivida.Youputtheworldundermyfeet.”

Iknewwhathewantedfromme.He’dwhispereditintomyearamilliontimes,even

in such a short time together, sliding his need for me into every kiss. Exhaling hard, I
looked into his face again, only to be wrapped up in the warmth of his broad, sensual
smile. “Well,” I replied softly, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Maybe… I can leave
tomorrowinstead.”

“No,”hewhispered.

Isteppedbackandthrewupmyhands.“You’veturnedmeintoacrazyperson.”

ThesquinttoldmethatmaybeIwascrazybefore.

Igrowled.“Iwasneverlikethis.It’sallyourfault.”

“Ihopeso,yes.”

“Icouldstillleave.”

“Youloveme,”hemurmured,leaningforwardintomyspace,hislipshoveringover

mine.“Howcouldyouleaveme?”

Icouldn’t.I’dbeenhisfromthedayhecamehomeandtookmyhandandwalkedme

downtothegarden.

“Mevuelvesloco,”hesaidwithachuckle.

“Ican’thelpit.Idriveeveryonecrazy.”

“Butforme,itisinthebestway.”

“Howdoyoudrivesomeonenutsinagoodway?”

“Itmatterslittle,youbelongtome.”

Ishookmyhead.“Youdeservesomeonebetter.”

Heliftedoneeyebrowquizzically.“Doyoutrulybelievethereisanotherwhocould

lovemebetterthanyoudo?”

Ididn’t,actually.Noonecouldeverlovehimmore.“Shit.”

“AsIsuspected,”hesaid,tiltingforwardforakiss.“Eresmiángel.”

God.Themanwasasap.Hisangel.Devil,maybe,butnotangel.

“Bésame,”heorderedgruffly.

I met him eagerly, opening for his tongue, and the kiss was quick and fierce,

claiming,buthewasgonebeforeIcouldmeltintohim.“No,no,comebackand—”

“Iwillkissyouathome,mivida,andmuchmore,”hepromisedcurtly.Hesnapped

his fingers, brows furrowed, scowling at me. “Now get in the car and we will have no
moreofthisfoolishness.”

I should have taken exception to his tone, but his hands were shaking and he was

bitinghislowerlip,andseeinghimallgrowlymademycockthickeninmyjeans.“Okay,”
Iagreedquickly,gettingbackinthecar.

Hethrewmyduffelintotheback,muchtoohard,andonlythendidwebothrealize

thatI’dnevertakenmylaptopbagoutoftheAstonMartinatall.

Ridiculous.

Once we were both inside with the doors closed and he’d started the car, I noticed

howhardhewassqueezingthesteeringwheel.Itwasenoughtoturnhisknuckleswhite.

“YouwillstaywhereItellyou,”hesaid,puttingonhisseatbeltbeforepullingaway

fromthecurb.

“Yes.”

“Andyouwillmarryme.”

“Didn’tyouwanttomarrymybrother?”

“Youalreadyknowthatwasalie.”

Idid.

Hisscoffwasevil.

“That’smean.”

“Iwishyourbrothernothingbutthebest,but…no,Ineverwantedhimforever.”

Myheartseized.

“Butyou,”hegrowled,drivingmuchtoofast,takingaturntoosharply.“Quieroque

seasmío.”

Whenever he was emotional, his English deserted him. It happened in bed all the

time.

“Quierovivircontigo.”

Iwasluckyeveryoneinthehousehadbeentutoringme.“Iwill.I’lllivewithyou.”

“Andtakemyname.”

His tone was harsh, abrupt, and I’d mention it later when he wasn’t still scared to

deathandreactingtothatfear.Irealizednowthathehadbeentryingsohardtogiveme
thetimeandspacetodecidewhattodowithmyownlife,despitewantingtolockmeup
in our bedroom at the villa and never let me go. I’d been too busy beating my wings
againstacagethathe’dtorndownfromaroundmealongtimeago.He’dshownmethe
sky… the world… and was willing to let me fly from him… without him… if that was
whatIneeded.I’djustbeentooblindtoseeit.Butnotnow.Iwouldnever not see him
again.

“Yes,” I agreed, swallowing hard, trying to calm my racing heart but it was

impossible.Itgallopedonwithoutme,aswellofemotiontoohardtocontain.“Toourlife.
Toyourname.”

Hereallylovedme.MorethanIcouldeverimagine.

“And never scare me again,” he added curtly, his hands tightening again on the

steeringwheel,hisvoicebrokenbutstrong.

“Promise.” I agreed, reaching for his thigh, patting it softly, soothing him and his

ruffledheart.“Neveragain.”

I hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he exhaled in a rush and nearly

drovetheAstonMartinofftheroad.Wecametoabouncingstop,parkedbadlyontheside
oftheroad.

“Whatareyou—”

“Quiet,”hedemanded,releasinghisseatbeltandgrabbingme,myfaceinhishands

ashetookmymouthinamaulingkiss,showingmewhoIbelongedto.

God, he could kiss. I felt it everywhere—the heat, the rolling build, how much I

wantedtobeunderhim.Everythingstopped.TherewasnothingbutMiguelandhisbreath
andhistasteandhishandsandhimpullingawayand…wait.

Hepushedmeback,andIwasfacedwithhiskiss-swollenlipstwistedintoasmileas

hehelduparing.

“Whatthehellareyou—”

“No,youhavetostopswearing.Itisverybadandwillnothelpyouinbusiness.”

“I—”

“Itisverybigandverygaudy,butIdonotcare.Thisisyours.”

I’d never seen a larger diamond in real life. It was rectangular, emerald-cut, set

lengthwise in a big old hunk of platinum with two square-cut diamonds on each side. It
wasobsceneandunnecessary,butdamn,howmuchdidhelovemetoinvestinsomething
sooverthetopthatnoonewouldeverwonderaboutmyrelationshipstatus.Ever.

“Youreallyneedeveryonetoknowsomethinghere,huh?”

He lifted a finger. “You will wear this ring from now on, and then before the

wedding, you will take it off, have it blessed by the priest, and then put it back on your
finger,”hefinishedinarush.

“Youhaveitallfiguredout,”Isaid,tearingupasheslippedthemonstrosityontothe

ringfingerofmylefthand.Oh,hewasmadeforme,thoughtofwhatIneededbeforeI
everasked,andknewinnatelythatthisridiculousshowofpossessivenesswouldmakeme
deliriouslyhappy.

Heknewme.Insideandout.

“Yes,”heagreed,cuppingmyfaceinhishands.“Ihaveneverproposedmarriageto

another.Understood?”

“Sí,”Iteased.

“Thisisnotfunnyintheleast,”hesaid,bendingtokissme—once,twice,andthen

smileatmewithgleamingeyes.“Nowgivemethewords.”

Itwastime.“Iloveyou,Miguel,”Iwhispered,blinkingtoseethroughmytears.“I’ve

neverlovedanyonebutyouandwon’teverloveanyoneelse.I’myours,you’remine,and
that’sit.”

“And?”

“AndI’llmarryyouandlivewithyouforever.”

“Te amo,” he replied, his voice cracking with emotion before he kissed me. “Eres

todamivida.”

Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneck,andhecoiledhisaboutmywaist,huggingmeto

him, the two of us still pressed tight when the kiss finally ended so we could breathe.
Neitheroneofusletgo,though.

“You made the villa my home, so now it is yours as much as mine. I had the deed

changedthismorning.”

“ButwhatifIleft?”

“Youcouldneverleaveme;youloveme.Nootherwilldo.”

“No,theywon’t.”

“Yousee,”hesaidsmugly,“Iamperfectforyou.”

Hewas.

“Everyonewillbesohappy.”

Theywould be; hewas right. Iwas finally loved, andI knew thatnone of it would

evergoaway.Notever.Iwasapartofalltheirlives,notjustMiguel’s.Ihadafamily,a
community.IhadahomewithamanIlovedsomuchmyhearthurt.

“I—”

Thetappingontheglassmadeusbothturnourheads,anditwasonlythenthatwe

saw the gun. When the man holding said gun motioned for Miguel to roll down the
window, he did it immediately. I was so focused on them I didn’t even notice my door
openinguntilIwasdraggedfromthecar.ThelastthingIsawwasthebottomofaboot.

I WAS looking at the second guy—the one I said had been missing, the one the police
couldn’tfind—upsidedown.

“Are we still doing this?” Miguel asked, absolutely serious, because, in all honesty,

we’dbothforgottenaboutthegunsandthatwholesituationamonthago.

Hegotpistol-whippedforthat,andafterIyelled,Igotpunchedinthefaceandthe

ribs.Wehadbothendeduphangingupsidedowninaroomthatlookedlikeitbelongedin

someabandonedwarehouse.Somelightcamethroughthesmudgedwindowononeside
oftheroom.Therewasadoorontheotherside,andofcourse,therewerethemeathooks
wewerehangingfrombyourheels,ourhandstiedbehindus.

“YoutwoaregonnagetsomemoneyandnewpassportsformeandPetersowecan

getthefuckoffthisgoddamnisland.”

“All right,” Miguel agreed quickly. “Take us to my bank, I will get you the money,

andyoucanuseHudson’spassporttotravelwith.”

“Everybodyelsedoes,”Ideadpanned.

Miguelsnortedandthenwincedbecauseithurtwiththebloodrushingtohishead.I

knewbecauseIwasstartingtogetaheadachemyself.

“No!”theguyyelled.“IneedtwopassportsandIneedthemnow!”

“Those take time… uhm…. What’s your name?” I inquired, my voice strained,

annoyed.

“Lars.”

“Lars,okay,”Isaid,takingabreath.“Whatdoyouneed?Helpushelpyou.”

“Please,”Miguelgrumbled.“Ihaveaplaneyoucanuse,orayacht.Whicheveryou

prefer,simplychooseone.”

“IneedthemillionthatyouowedBodhi.”

“Oh,weneverhadamilliondollarsforBodhi,”Iexplained.“Wehadmaybe,what,”I

askedMiguel,glancingoverathim,“ahundredgrand?”

“Ifthat,”hemuttered,soundingexasperatedinsteadofscared.“Beyondthepassport

thatcannotbedoneinthenextfewhoursorevendays—orthemillionthatIcannotput
myhandsonrightthissecond—howcanwehelpyou?”

“I––”

“Howdidyouknowwherewewere?”Iinterjected.“Wereyoutheguywatchingme

thewholetime?”

“Yes.”

“AndyouknewIwasleavingtodayhow?”

“We didn’t know where you were going, you stupid git. We’ve been watching the

villa,isall,”heexplainedtersely,theangerclearinhisvoice,riddlinghiswordswithan
astringentbite.“We’vebeenparkedonthestreet—close—dayafterday,waitingforyou
tobealoneorjustyouandyoursugardaddythere.”

“Soyoujustfollowedus,youdidn’tknowwe’dstop,noneofthatwasplanned,just

allofitaluckybreak?”

“Yeah,why?”

BecauseI’dgivenhimcreditforbeingabettercriminal,andnowIknewthatwasn’t

the case. Bodhi had been the planner, the rest of them merely thugs. “I was just

wondering.”

“Well,let’swonderaboutthatring,eh?What’sitworth?”

“Youcan’thavemyring!Ijustgotit!”

“Wecancutitoffhim,”Lars’sonlyminionsuggested.

“Overmydeadbody,”Iroared.

“No,no,”Miguelsnapped,“therewillbenodeadbody.Just—”HescowledatLars.

“Telluswhatyouneedthatwecangetyoutomakeyougoaway.”

Itwasclearfromhisansweringsilence,aswellashisminion’s,thatthiswasasfar

intotheplanasthey’dgotten.GrabmeandMigueland…therestwasacrapshoot.

“Taking that ring will do you no good anyway,” Miguel explained logically. “I

registeredit.Thereisaserialnumberonthediamond,andanyoneyoutakeittowillknow
thatithasbeenstolen.”

“Payuswhatit’sworth,then,”theminioninsisted.

“Well,again,Icannotgetmyhandsonfivemillionanyquickerthanonemillion.”

Igasped.“Myring’sworthfivemilliondollars?”

“Isthisthebesttimetodiscussthis?”heaskedmepointedly.

“Miguel!”

Hisgroanwaspained.

“How?”

Hesquintedatme.“Thediamondiseighteencarats,flawless,likeyou.Whatwould

youexpectittocost?”

Oh…Ihadtotouchhim,kisshim,hughim,makelovetohim,showhimthatyes,the

ring itself was wondrous, but the sentiment behind it… dear God, that was what melted
myheart.“Ineedto….Getmedown!”IyelledatLars.

MiguelthoughtIwasflawless.

Me.

I was an idiot for ever thinking about leaving him. I had to make him understand I

lovedhimdesperately,madly,andcompletelywithoutreservation.

Hewastheone.

Mywhimperwasloudinthesmallroom.

“Iknowyouloveme,”hesaidwithabemusedsmileonhisface.

“Weneedtogetyouaringtoo.”

“Ihaveone.”

“Iwantitengravedinside.”

“Yes.”

“Anditbetterbecoveredindiamondstoo.”

Hescoffed.“Absolutelynot.Itisverysimple,tasteful,andcomplementsmywatch.”

Irolledmyeyes.

“Canyoutwofuckin’focus!”

“Sorry,” Miguel said quickly. “We apologize but you caught us at an inopportune

time,whenweshouldhavebeenalone.”

“Haveyoulostyourfuckin’—”

“So,please,telluswhatyouneedrightthissecond.”

“Oh, I know,” Lars said, apparently having an epiphany in that moment. “I need to

tradeyouandyourwhoreforBodhi.”

“I’mnotawhore,”Iprotested.

LarsandMigueltoldmetoshutupatthesametime.

Igrowled.

“Listen,”Miguelexplained.“NooneistradingusforBodhi.Heisnotevenhereon

Ibizaanymore,butinMadridawaitingtrial.”

“Well,that’syourproblem,isn’tit,”Larsvolleyedsnidely.“I’mmakingacall.”

Withthat,heandhisminion—allmuscles,noneck—walkedtothedoor.

“Don’t you two go anywhere,” the minion called out cheerfully, slamming the door

behindhim.

“Couldyoupleasenotantagonizethepeoplewiththeguns,”Miguelscolded.

“No,Iknow.Ijust—howdarehecallmeawhore!I’mgonnabeyourhusband.”

“Yes,youare,”Miguelagreedashebegantorockbackandforth.“Butfirst,wehave

togetoutofhere.”

“What’reyoudoing?”

“Ineedtoliftupandunhookmyself.”

“Really?”

“Yes,really.”

“Youcandothat?”

ThelookIgotwasincredulous.

Iwatchedasheswunglikeapendulumforafewmomentsbeforehefoldedhisbody

inhalfandlifteduptowherehisfeetwereboundandcaughtonalargemeathook.Itwas
impressive,watchinghimgrabthehookwithbothhands,liftoff,andflipovertolandon
hisfeet.

“Thatwasreallynoisy,”Itoldhim.

“ThisisallyouhavetosayaboutwhatIjustdid?”hepanted.

“Ihadnoideayouweresoflexible,”Iteased.

Hemadeanoiseofdisgust,likeIwasaperv,thenmovedovertomeandhelpedme

foldinhalfsoIcouldduplicatehismaneuver.Justholdingmyselfinthetuckedposition
washarderthanI’dthoughtitwasgoingtobe,butheheldmetight,andbetweenthetwo
ofus,Iwasbackonmyfeetmomentslater.

Ithurt,thebloodrushingbackwhereitwassupposedtogo,andIgrittedagainstthe

sensationevenasheroughly,quickly,untiedmyhandsandfeet.

Miguelcheckedthelargeindustrial-stylegarbagecanonthefarsideoftheroomand

foundourcellphones,completelydestroyed.

“Okay,timetogo.”

“Gowhere?”

Hepointed,andoutahugewindowwewent.

OntheroofofwhatIassumedwassomekindofoldwarehouse,IrealizedIcouldsee

nothingthatappearedevenvaguelyfamiliar.“Wherethehellarewe?”

“CalaJondal,”heanswered,testinghisweightonthebeamthatranthelengthofthe

roof—whichwasalongway—toaroomwiththesamesizewindowontheoppositeside
ofthebuilding.“Iwouldnotsayitisallthewayontheothersideoftheislandfromwhere
welive—notasfarasSantAntoni—butitisclose.”

“Whatthehell?”

“Ithinktheyprobablyusedtocuremeathere,”hesaid,takingastepontotheroof.

“Wait,what’reyoudoing?”

“Wearegoingtocrossthisandgodowntheotherside.”

“Weare?Whyarewe?”

“Because we are going to get shot if we do not,” he answered, moving a few feet

awayfromme.“Nowcome.”

Ifollowed.Iwasn’tabouttolethimgoalone.

“You know,” he began, “you have not yet tried many of Spain’s amazing cured

meats.”

“I’msorry,what?”

“Thereislomoembuchado,whichislikeathinporktenderloin.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked, eyes on his back instead of my feet as I walked with

nothingbutskyoneithersideofme.“Fuck,we’reuphigh.”

“Youhadjamóniberico,though,becauseAnitaservedussome,alongwithfuet.”

“Why’re you talking about meat?” I asked, panicky. I was terrified that, somehow,

whenLarsshotatus—whichhewould,ofcourse—he’dmissmeandhitMiguel.Icould
nothavehimhurt.Justtheideaofitmadeithardtobreathe.

LosingMiguelwassimplynotpossible.I’dneverwantedanyonelikeIwantedhim,

neverlovedanyonelikeIlovedhim,hecouldn’t…Icouldn’t….

“Andjamónserranoissimilartoprosciutto,butsomuchbetter.IthinkIwillgetyou

sometonightwhenwegethome.”

“Willyoustop,please!”Iscreeched,almosthyperventilating.

“Why?Youlovetotrynewthings,doyounot?”

“I—”

“Youwilllikethis,mivida,Ipromise,andagain,Iwillgetitforyoutonight.”

Ah.

Tonight.Whenwegothome.

When.

Iunderstoodnow.“SoisitallrightifIshowyourmotherthering?”Iasked,calming

becausehewas.

“Ofcourse,”hesaidashespreadhisarmswidetokeephisbalance.

Ienjoyedwatchingthethickmusclesinhisbackbunchunderthetight-fittingshort-

sleevedshirtthatclungtohisbicepsandtricepsandhuggedhiswaist.

“Ilikebeingbehindyou.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.You’vegotbeautifulshoulders.”

“DoI?”

“Yeah.Andyourbackandyourassaregreattoo.”

“Keepitinmindwhenyoumeetallmyhandsomefriendsbeforethewedding.”

“Youdon’thaftaworryaboutme.”

“Iknow,”hewhispered,butIhearditanyway.

“Hudson!”

AtleastIhadconfirmationthatLarsknewwhoIwas.

“Down!” Miguel shouted, and we both dropped to our knees and scrambled toward

ourgoal,crawlingasfastaswecould.

A bullet bit into the frame around the window, and another hit the glass close to

Miguel’sheadasheliftedthepaneanddivedin.

Iwasrightbehind,fallingdownontohim,pinninghimtothewoodenfloor.

“Lookatus,we’reallbadass,”Icrowed.

Ittookmeasecondtorealizehehadoneeyeclosedbeforeheshovedmeoffofhim

andwentfetalinpain.

Hehadtakenahard,heavykneetotheballs.Mine.I’drackedmybaby’sballs.

“Sorry.I’msorry,”Isoothedhim.

ItsoundedlikehewasdoingLamazebreathing.

“Butyougottagetup.Wegottago.”

It took long moments—Miguel could not straighten up—until we could bolt out of

theroomandstartdownthefiveflightsofstairstothegroundlevel.Bythetimewehit
thethirdfloor,Iheardpeoplerunningonthemetalstepsaboveus.

Bullets rang out, grazing the aluminum, ricocheting off the walls and sometimes

hittingglassandsplinteringwoodaroundus.

Whenwereachedthebottom,MiguelmadesureIwasinfrontofhimbeforewetook

offforthelargewarehousedooronthesouthsideofthebuilding.ItwaslockedwhenI
triedit,butMiguelwrenchedmesideways,nearlyoffmyfeet,andkickeditashardashe
could.Hisbootswerequitehelpful,andafarbetterchoicethanthesandalshe’dhadon
thedaybefore.ThankGodthemantookhisfashionmoreseriouslythanItookmine.My
Conversesneakerswouldhaveaddednoheft.

Thedoorgave—fortunatelyitwasn’tthekindthatrolled—andweexplodedoutside,

mefirstasMiguelshovedmethroughandintotheoutstretchedhandsofEduardo.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I shouted as Joaquín grabbed Miguel and

shieldedhim.OfficersinwhatlookedlikeriotgearchargedthroughtheopeningMiguel
hadjustmade.“Whatthehellisgoingon?”

Escamillawasthere,andbeforeMiguelcoulddiveforwardandattackhim,Eduardo

caughthimandshovedhimatme.

“Theyusedyoutwoasbait,”Joaquíninformedus,“andIamsorrywewerenothere

before, but Escamilla had us locked up until the report about where you were came in
fromoneofyourtails.”

“You let them take us?” Miguel was livid. “Do you know what could have

happened?”

“How dare you detain my men!” I roared at Escamilla. “They are professional

bodyguards,they’relicensedtocarryguns,andyouinterferedwiththeirabilityto—”

“Iwilllaunchaformalcomplaintwithyoursupervisorfor—”

“Enough!”Escamillayelled,andweallwentquiet.“WehaveLarsEddingtonandhis

accomplice,PeterBoyer.Everyoneinvolvedinthatarmsdealisincustodynow.Youtwo
aresafe,”heendedwithanexhale.

“And you think you had any fuckin’ thing to do with that?” I bellowed. “If Miguel

hadn’tbeenabletogetdownand—”

“We had the warehouse completely surrounded, and you were monitored at every

turn.”

“Theynearlyshotusaswecrossedtheroof!”Iwasincredulousandgettinglouder.

“Wecouldhavefallenoffanddied!”

“Yes,whydidyoudothat?”Escamillaasked.

Before I could reach Escamilla and throttle him, Miguel caught me and lifted me

easilyoffmyfeet.“Wewillbeinlatertogiveastatement.”

“Nomorethanthreehoursfromnow,”Escamillainsisted.

I’d been terrified of losing Miguel when I’d just managed to get my whole life

figuredout,andEscamillahadeverythingundercontrol?

“I’mgonnakillyou!”IyelledathimoverMiguel’sshoulder.

“Perhapsyoushouldgethimadrink,”Escamillaoffered.

Eduardosnarled,andMiguelorderedusallinthecar.

OncewewereinthebackseatoftheHummerthatEduardoandJoaquínhadcomein,

Joaquínsaidthey’dalreadymadearrangementstohavetheAstonMartindrivenhome.

Iwasstillfuming.“Howdarehe—”

“And congratulations by the way,” Joaquín continued, cutting me off, “on your

engagement.Youlookgoodwitharingonyourfinger,hijomío.”

“Goddamnit,” I groused. “Don’t make me all happy in the middle of my tirade of

righteousindignation!”

Everyonelaughed.Miguelleanedsideways,cuppedmychininhishand,andkissed

me.

“Weneedtocallmyphysicianandhavehimmeetusathometolookyouover,”he

said,strokingovermyjawwithhisthumb.“Ineedtomakecertainyouwerenotharmed.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been in foster homes rougher than those guys were. You’re the one

whogothitwiththegun.Whatifyouhaveaconcussion?”

“He caught my cheek,” he replied, brows furrowed, staring at me. “I am well, mi

vida.”

“What’swrong?”

“Roughfosterhomes?”

Iclimbedoutofmyseatandwenttohim,satinhislapandhuggedhimastightasI

could. I let the happy tears out because he’d asked me to marry him, the scared ones
becauseI’dbeenfrightenedforhislife,therelievedonesbecauseweweresafe,andthe
sappyonesbecausehe’dtouchedmyheartwithhisconcernformyancienthistory.

“Oh,”hesaidafteraminuteofholdingmeandstrokingmyback.“Youtrulyloveme,

yes?”

“Ido,”Ipromised,myvoicenasallywithtears.

“Iloveyouback.Deseoquesiempreestésconmigo.”

“Metoo,”Isaid,leaningbacktolookathim.“Iwantyouwithmealwaystoo.”

His smile was wide as he pushed my hair back out of my face. “My language is

startingtoruboffonyou.”

“No,it’sjustthissappyromanticcrapyousay.”Isniffled.“ButIloveit,sodon’tever

stop,okay?Don’teverchange.”

Ibentandhelifted,andourkisswassweetanddeepandhadusbothpantingwhen

wefinallyparted.

“No,”herasped,hisvoicesoftandlow.“Icouldneverchange,becauseIwillnever

stoplovingyou,mivida.”

“Andyou’llteachmeSpanish.”

“Iwill,”hemurmured,squeezingmyhand.“TherearemanywaystosayIloveyou,

andwehavealifetimeforyoutolearnthem.”

God,hewasridiculouslyromanticandheadoverheelsinlovewithme.AsIwasin

thesameexactboat,itwasfortunatewe’dfoundeachother.

Iwouldhavetosendmybrotherathank-younote.

MorefromMaryCalmes

Marshals:BookTwo

DeputyUSMarshalsMiroJonesandIanDoylearenowpartnersonandoffthejob:

Miro’scalmprofessionalismprovidesanidealbalancetoIan’spassionandquicktemper.
In a job where one misstep can be the difference between life and death, trust means
everything. But every relationship has growing pains, and sometimes Miro stews about
where he stands with his fiery lover. Could the heartstrings that so recently tied them
togetherbeindangerofunraveling?

Those new bonds are constantly challenged by family intrusions, well-intentioned

friends, their personal insecurities, and their dangerous careers—including a trial by fire
whenanoldcaseofMiro’scomesbacktohauntthem.ItmightjustbeenoughtomakeIan
rethinkhisdecisiontolethimselfbetieddown,andMirocanonlyhopethelinksthey’ve
forgedwillbestrongenoughtohold.

Afteryearsofdomesticpartnership,JoryHarcourtandSamKagearefinallygoingto

makeitofficialintheirhomestateofIllinois.It’sbeenalongandrockyroad,andnothing
—not disasters at work, not the weather, not a possible stalker, not even getting beat up
andhavingtoattendtheceremonylookinglikehejustgotmugged—willmakeJorywait
onemoredaytomakeanhonestmanoftheloveofhislife.

Shouldbeapieceofcake,right?

Stopping to offer help one sultry summer night, Mason James is unprepared for the

changethatthissimpleactofkindnesswillbring.Aftergivinganoldmanaridehome,
Masondiscoversanew,magical,andevendangerousworldhecannothopetounderstand.
ButhealsofindsLucToussaintandisintoxicatedatfirstsight…andeventhesecretLuc
protects won’t be enough to keep Mason away from the truth of his heritage and their
love.

MangroveStories

Lazlo Maguire doesn’t do relationships—he does transactions. Six months of the

year, he’s an expensive rent boy in Manhattan, and he moves so fast that settling down
could not, would not, ever enter his mind… except for once. Britton Lassiter he meets
mantoman,notashustlerandmark,andit’stoogoodtobetruewhenthelawyerwantsto
keepLazloevenifhehastosharehimwiththejob.

ButLazlohashisreasonstowalkawayfromthemanhe’sgrowntolove.Theother

six months of the year, he is laid-back Laz, a shopkeeper in the sleepy coastal town of
Mangrove,Florida,wheretheartistheneverallowshimselftobeintheBigAppleshines
through.Helivesforhistimebytheocean,theplacehehideshissecretsandnurseshis
brokenheart.

Then fate intervenes, and Laz gets the surprise of his life when he spies Britton in

Mangrove—butit’snotmeanttobe…notuntilBrittonseesthechangeinhimandwants
tobeapartofLaz’snewlifesothateveryeveningcanbeeasy…together.Hopefullythe
secretsthattorethemapartwon’tcomebacktohauntthem.

MangroveStories

Everyone in Mangrove, Florida, knows Fire Chief Essien Dodd is a saint. He took

careofhisex-wifeuntilshedied,israisinghisteenagedaughteralone,andisthekindof
manwhopullskittensfromtrees.Allinall,theman’sacatch.ButRoarkHammondhas
swornoffgettinginvolvedwithamanwho’sbeenhurtbeforebecausehecan’tguarantee
hewon’thurthisprospectiveloveagain.IfonlyhecouldgetEssienoutofhismindlong
enoughtofocusonanyone,oranything,else.

Strong emotions are in play. Essien is lonely but determined to focus on Ivy; Ivy

wantsherfathertohaveanewlifesomuchthat,tohishorror,she’stryingtofindhima
man;andRoarkissoscaredofthepresentandpast,hewon’tallowhimselftocommit.To
have any chance of sleeping ‘til sunrise and greeting each new day together, Essien and
Roark will have to rethink how they’re living their lives and focus on what’s most
important.

MARYCALMESlives in Lexington, Kentucky, with her husband and two children

andlovesalltheseasonsexceptsummer.ShegraduatedfromtheUniversityofthePacific
inStockton,California,withabachelor’sdegreeinEnglishliterature.Duetothefactthat
itisEnglishlitandnotEnglishgrammar,donotaskhertopointoutaclauseforyou,asit
will so not happen. She loves writing, becoming immersed in the process, and believes
without question in happily ever afters, and writes those for each and every one of her
characters.

ByMaryCalmes

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MARSHALS

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Sinnerman•Nexus•CherishYourName

WardersVol.1&2

PublishedbyDREAMSPINNERPRESS

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Publishedby

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Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductof
authorimaginationorareusedfictitiously,andanyresemblancetoactualpersons,living
ordead,businessestablishments,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.

LayItDown

©2016MaryCalmes.

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All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or
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to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook
format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be
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DigitalISBN:978-1-63477-131-3

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TableofContents

Blurb

ChapterOne

ChapterTwo

ChapterThree

ChapterFour

ChapterFive

ChapterSix

ChapterSeven

ChapterEight

ChapterNine

ChapterTen

ChapterEleven

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AbouttheAuthor

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