“I agree with you,” said Hendrix, “but we can’t shield you from insincerity here any more than we can off the island. You’ll have to weigh a potential partner’s suitability on your own. That said, if it does become clear someone is lying and deceiving to gain sex or other favors, they will be asked to leave and will not receive another invitation to the cove.”
I peeked at the folder sticking out of my bag. Zion marked half the guys he knew for sure were looking for a relationship out of this. Who knew what the other half wanted.
The questions and answers kept up for the rest of the weaving drive past the groves and sand. Two hours in, the shuttle crested and a sprawling mansion laid out before us. Stones the color of the sand surrounding us stacked on top of each other to form three floors of windows, balconies, blue shutters, and sloping roofs.
The villa was magnificent.
And I seriously wondered if reducing it to a pile of rubble would get me out of this early.
It’ll work as well as burning the info packet. Mrs. Desai will unearth another one and keep on trucking.
“You’re the first to arrive, everyone,” Hendrix called. “You’ll find your stuff has already been taken to your room and put away. We’ve got nothing on the docket until the mixer tonight, so grab something to eat, explore the villa, get settled, or you could sneak in some beach time. If you need anything, my number is in your packet.”
Our group got up, filing off the bus.
“Want to hit the beach?” Zion asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve been up since five a.m. I’m finding my room and hitting the sheets running.”
“All right.” We climbed off the bus, parting ways on the ground. “See you tonight.”
“Later.”
Hendrix set on the path toward the house. I trailed him at a slower pace.
Flowers lined the walkway, lending color to the long stretch of green lawn. In the driveway, two cars and half a dozen golf carts gleamed in the sun. Transport for the rest of us to get around. Mrs. Desai truly thought of everything.
Hendrix paused to hold the door open for me. I thanked him as I stepped into the island paradise. Light, weathered tile led out from the entry, around columns, and under arched ceilings. Bamboo ceiling fans lazily turned the air, lending to the relaxed vibe induced by the white couches, blue pillows, and warm brown furniture.
A glance in my packet told me my room was on the second floor. I waved bye to Hendrix, spotting the staircase on the other side of the room. My phone buzzed on my way up.
I fished it out, glanced at the screen, and froze.
Unknown number shone back at me. Two seemingly innocent words on their own.
Maybe it’s Preston, my mind supplied. He could’ve gotten my number from his mom and wants to spout more trash about there being an explanation for why he forgot to mention his fiancée when he was asking me out and offering up his body.
My finger hovered over the phone.
If you really believe it’s Preston, why are you hesitating?
I tapped open.
555-8735: Where are you?
That was it. Three simple words and my heart leaped out of my throat and made a run for it.
Me: Who is this?
One minute.
Two.
Three.
Five minutes passed with no reply.
I picked up my feet to keep going when my cell went off, startling me into dropping it. Clutching my chest, I bent to grab it and flashing up from the carpeted step was the unknown number.
I didn’t hesitate. I ended the call and blocked them, silencing whoever was on the other end.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow, and kept walking.
Mrs. Desai was kind enough to number the rooms. A bright, shiny twelve hung over my door. I pushed in, dreaming of the warm sheets that awaited me.
“Belle.”
“Holy fuck!” My bag and poor phone crashed to the floor.
The guy swung his legs off the bed, pushing off. I goggled at Preston, eyes huge and heart racing, as he used my surprise to draw me the rest of the way in and shut the door.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. The bastard sounded like he was holding in a laugh. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”
I shrugged him off. “I’m going to bet you had plenty of choices other than lying in wait like a serial killer!”
He chuckled. “You’re not in danger from me, Belle. If you ask me”—he