Page 72 of Moonlit Temptation

Now the message made sense.

There were too many people. Too many gorgeous people that he’d probably much rather spend his time with.

He didn’t have to hide with them.

He could fuck them without consequences.

He could leave them without seeing them again, without remorse and reminders.

Through the window that spied into the kitchen, I saw even more people. More waitstaff working.

This wasn’t a last-minute decision. It couldn’t have been.

Those soft embers rose to violent flames.

“Small?” Jessa mirrored my thoughts, shaking her head. “We should’ve known better. Saint doesn’t know how to do small.”

I nodded in silent agreement, too wound up to speak. He didn’t.

He was boisterous and braggy, shoving it into everyone’s face that he was not his father.

He wasn’t a fraud. He was worthy.

And his house was one of his favorite things to flaunt.

Two girls in bikinis ran by us, squealing as they got chased by a built man in a mankini.

My sister blinked, eyes dazed. “That was a lot of man ass.”

“And not a lot of bulge.” For the first time in hours, my lips twitched upward. Poor guy.

Jessa cackled, knocking her shoulder into mine.

Here was the thing about my sister—her laugh wasn’t delicate or dainty. Instead, it came out sounding like a witch brewing over a cauldron.

My lips twitched even higher with the sound.

I loved her laugh. She hated it, which made me love it even more.

“Want to go inside?” Jessa asked me.

Our dad abandoned us the moment we walked through the gate, heading straight to the open bar on the other side of the pool, where a pretty young woman bartended.

Jessa didn’t wait for my answer before walking to the house. Not finding Saint out here, I followed her.

Saint’s downstairs had an open layout. The perfect party setup.

The same music that played outside floated in here, but it was barely audible over all the talking.

I searched through the throngs of people, looking for wicked eyes and a sinful stare.

Where are you hiding, Saint?

“What’re you doing?” Jessa gave me a weird look as I craned my neck like a deformed swan while pressing up on my toes.

“Nothing.” I dropped down. “Stretching.”

Her cool face remained impassive, seeing through my lie.

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