My sister smiles at me, and I sweep my eyes around the gathered celebrities for any sign of Prince Luca.
A pang of disappointment passes through my chest when I don’t see him. Painting a smile on my face as my cheeks burn, I join my sister and walk down the passerelle to the pier.
A mass of reporters is waiting there for us, flinging questions at Margot as she smiles and waves. Cameras flash so bright and fast that I have to shield my eyes, trailing behind my sister like a lost puppy. We duck into a waiting SUV, and the driver takes off toward our house.
My head is still spinning. A few minutes ago, the Prince’s hands were inside me.
Margot lets out a heavy sigh. “That didn’t go as planned.”
“No,” I agree, glancing out the window. My cheeks are red-hot, and I’m afraid that if I look at my sister, I’ll say something that I shouldn’t. What happened between Prince Luca and me should stay on that boat, hidden away from everyone.
Margot’s hand covers mine. She squeezes gently. “Thank you for jumping in, Ivy. I’m sorry I scared you.”
Turning my head to look at my sister, my chest squeezes. A boulder lodges itself in my throat, and my emotions swirl messily inside my chest.
Right now, my sister doesn’t have the glow that seems to always radiate from her. Her makeup is mussed, and her hair is stringy. There are lines on her face that I’ve never noticed before.
She looks…human.
My chest tightens, and I try to swallow. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
The words sound forced, even though I mean them. I’m completely frazzled. I don’t know what to think. Margot’s hand stays on top of mine, and a pang passes through my chest.
I shouldn’t have done that with the Prince. I shouldn’t enjoy his advances. His kiss. His touch.
But not enjoying them seems as impossible as not needing food.
Leaning toward my sister, I lay my head on her shoulder. She angles her cheek against my head, and we sit there quietly until we make it back home. I blink back tears, shame burning my throat as I think of what happened today.
I was blinded by my attraction to the Prince, and he knew it. I don’t know why he continues to pursue me like he does, but I must amuse him in some way. I have to find a way to resist it—to resist him.
Margot needs my support, and today was proof. Even after nearly drowning, she had to pretend like everything was okay. She had to do her job and be the star. She provides for me every day, and how do I repay her?
By hooking up with the guy who’s supposed to be her boyfriend.
When we pull up to our mansion, I tell myself that I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let Prince Luca’s spell enchant me like it did today. I won’t kiss him, or touch him, or fantasize about him at all.
That promise I made to him?
I’ll break it.
He belongs to my sister—even if it’s all fake.
18
Luca
I watch Ivy and Margot leave the yacht from one of the cabin windows before turning to the bathroom to clean myself up. My heart is still thumping wildly as I think of Ivy’s body on top of mine.
Her soft, untouched body.
A shiver of pleasure runs through me, and I know that thought shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. My thoughts circle in my head, though, always coming back to one thing: Claiming Ivy.
Being her first. The only man to feel her, worship her, love her the way she deserves.
When I disembark the yacht, Beckett stares at me with dark eyes.
“Where were you?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”
“Do you not care that you’re supposed to be dating one of the hottest chicks on the planet?”
“Not particularly, no.” I start walking toward the waiting royal car, with two bodyguards flanking me on either side. Beckett rushes to catch up.
“You’re so ungrateful. Always have been.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Beckett huffs, shaking his head without answering.
“Are you the patron saint of hot chicks, now?” I ask, leveling him with a stare. “Why do you give a fuck about my fake relationship with some boring-ass model?”
“She’s not boring,” he snaps.
“So, you date her.”
“I would, but that wouldn’t exactly be what was arranged, now, would it?” He shakes his head. “Typical.”
I shrug, nodding to one of the bodyguards as he opens