at Preston. “He’s been making my life hell ever since.” I inclined my head. “Though I give him credit for taking a break after we went to different high schools.”
“Shit. By the looks of it, he hasn’t forgiven and forgotten.”
“Why would he?” I whispered. “I haven’t earned forgiveness.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Carter was gone and Mrs. Desai stood in his place. Preston’s mother was a beautiful lady—that was as much a fact as the sun setting in the west. Pretty and beach-ready in a light pink summer dress and matching sandals, she secured her hat from the wind with a pose that belonged in a magazine. “First up on your schedules is two-minute introductions. Everything we do this summer is designed to help you get to know each other better, and prepare you for the challenges and responsibilities of being a spouse.
“As such, some activities will be mixed and a few will be just for the girls or boys. Tomorrow morning, I’ll steal the girls away for a private session. Boys, you’ll have a separate task to complete as well. If you have any questions as we go along, feel free to ask me or Mr. Hendrix.
“All right, let’s get underway. Ladies, please find your seats. Gentlemen, sit anywhere.”
I downed the remains of my tea and fell in behind Zion, Mila, and Delilah Winthrop herself. I studied her beautiful back of the head, thinking of Preston’s surprise visit to my room. The way he made it sound, he was marrying Delilah because he had to, not because he wanted to. That should have made things simple. I understood being forced into an arranged marriage. But honestly, it served up more problems.
Leaving aside that he may have gotten me into bed for a bet, he said Delilah believed she owned him, and I needed nowhere near a situation like that. Jealous, possessive people didn’t believe that too far was far enough. I was creating a whole case of drama all on my own this summer. Inviting more from Delilah and her fiancé-to-be read bad idea all over it.
Even if he’s sitting at my table, giving me a look like he wants to bend me over it.
“Du Pont-Desai,” I greeted. “Ever notice that your initials are PDPD? Course you did. That’s why you have them stitched into your sheets.”
“Brought the same sheets here if you want to take them for another spin.”
I sat down, crossing my legs at the ankles, and smiling sweet. To anyone watching we were having a nice chat. “I’m going to pass on that, but thanks for the offer.”
“No problem.” Preston leaned over the table, hands out like he wanted me to take them. “I’ve got seven days left.”
A clap cut off my response. “Okay, ladies, gentlemen. You have two minutes to chat and get to know each other. On every table are notecards with conversation starters. Hendrix will chime the first bell to begin. Every time it rings, boys, stand up and move to your left. Ready?”
“Ready,” we replied.
The bell chimed, returning Preston’s attention firmly to me. “Here’s a conversation starter: Have Nathan and Carter backed up that they didn’t tell me a thing about you?”
“They have.”
“Do you believe them?”
I glanced to the right. “When we were twelve, something happened and my friendship with Carter imploded. He and his buddies then spent the rest of middle school torturing me. In seventh grade, the most popular guy in school asked me to winter formal. I made the cutest dress. One of my best pieces. Took me weeks to finish it.
“Mom did my hair and put makeup on me for the first time. I felt like that little fool Cinderella about to go to her first ball.” I grinned without mirth. “Can you guess what happened?”
“He stood you up.”
“I waited for two hours, sitting in the living room waiting for his parents’ car to pull up. Finally Dad drove me to the dance himself, and I walked in to see Gio dancing with his real date, Dinah, while Carter laughed himself sick by the punch bowl.” I looked Carter square in his reddening face, knowing he was listening to every word. “So, do I believe you guys are innocent just because you say so? No.”
“What would it take to prove it?”
I leaned in, dropping my voice for his ears only. “Why bother, Preston? Honestly? We’d have a summer of freaky sex. Fine. But I don’t know how well it sits with me that you have a fiancée waiting at the