Page 51 of The Devil's Daughter

His breath is a hot gust against my neck as he sighs. “I’m sorry. It’s actually a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” I retort. “Do youreallythink he’d hurt you? You’re Elena’s sons! Toni’s brothers. I guarantee he still loves you two like his own sons, even though you hate him now.” I turn to face him, helping him pull on the tuxedo jacket over his dark T-shirt.

“You look gorgeous,” he says, smiling as he lets his gaze slide down my body and back up. “But I admit I always pictured you in black. With a deeper neckline.”

I glance down at the bodice of the dress. It’s modest, with gathered voile stitched into pretty swirls and tiny rhinestones peppered throughout like stars. Not an inch of cleavage can be seen.

“It fits me, though. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find clothes that fit these things on the first try?”

I grab my boobs and push them up. It’s one of the few features I don’t share with my mom. She’s tall and slender and willowy all the way, the perfect physique for ballet. I’m all those things too, except for having breasts big enough that they’re hard to hide. At least now that I’ve learned Celeste and Toni are my sisters, I know where this particular feature originated.

“I bet it’s not the only dress they brought that fits you,” Baz says. “Think how sharp we’ll look all showing up in black together. Also, it’s probably better if you don’t stand out too much. Black is less conspicuous.”

“That makes sense. Okay, back to the rack.”

When we return to the lounge, Drake’s holding his phone to his ear and giving me a funny look. It takes a second for me to realize it’smyphone he’s holding, and my stomach clenches. I stare in apprehension as I listen to Drake speak to who I’m sure must be my father on the other end.

“Yes. I understand, Mr. Flores—Arturo. No, Celeste is right, we’re not at the penthouse. Elle’s safety is paramount, which is why we relocated. I apologize for not letting you know sooner. We had it under control. The twins are on it.” He grimaces and nods. “You’re right. I should have called. It was an oversight. You don’t need to come…”

He pauses, a look of sheer panic crossing his face, and then he swallows and nods again. Beside me, Baz utters a string of profanity in Spanish. Then Drake says, “We’re anchored in Cat Harbor. Okay, see you then.”

He drops the phone and stares at us without speaking. Then, after a breath, he says, “Well,thatjust happened.”

“He’s cominghere?” I ask, incredulous.

“He’s joining us for supper tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Baz blurts, sounding as if Drake just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“What thefuck?” Drake parrots. “We’re supposed to beprotectinghis daughter, not fucking her! I couldn’t exactly say no, especially since I should’ve called him days ago to let him know our plans.Youshould’ve called him too,” he adds, glaring at Baz.

They stare each other down for a few seconds before Baz curses and turns away. He tries to leave, but Severino diverts him with a soft tutting sound, making him stand still to check the fit of his tuxedo jacket and trousers. After a minute, he slips out of his jacket and pants right there while Severino heads to a sewing machine on a small cart by the window to make alterations.

“Did he sound mad that you didn’t call?” I ask.

Drake’s shoulders drop. “No, just his usual businesslike self. He said he might be able to help find out who’s behind this, but he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone, hence the last-minute visit. He knows waiting until after the gala will be too late—we’ll be exposed while we’re there.”

I take my phone when he hands it to me and glance at the time. It’s still early, so I sigh and make a pose, cocking my hip out and spreading my arms with a coy smile.

“Well, what do you think?” I ask, twirling around so the flowy skirt of my dress flares. I flutter my eyelashes at Drake when I face him again, and am gratified when he lets out a breath and finally smiles.

Drake hasthesexiest smile, especially when it’s accompanied like it is with that slightly mischievous glint in his eyes. Like he’d enjoy nothing more than to watch me do another striptease for him. Like he justknowsI have his gift buried in my ass right now.

“It’s beautiful, but I don’t think this one suits you. It’s too girlie with the sparkles. You need black.”

“See!” Baz calls from the dining room. He emerges after donning his shorts again. “Black is better for you. Let’s see what they’ve got.”

He goes to the trunk of dresses and flips through, then finds a sleek black chiffon dress with wide straps. He tilts his head at me to follow as he heads back to the dining room.

My body’s on fire with arousal now, and when I move my hair out of the way for him to unzip me, his touch is electrifying. I tamp down my desire as much as possible, trying to focus on our latest dilemma instead.

When Baz doesn’t move away from my back immediately, I say, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect him to want to come for a visit. I thought we’d just talk and he’d give us a name or something.”

Turning to face him, I peer into his eyes, anxious that he’s more pissed than before. He just presses his lips tight and shakes his head.

“Not your fault. Ben’s going to shit himself, but we’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Itiskind of my fault,” I say, stepping back to slip out of the dress and hang it back up on its hanger. His closeness has my every nerve ending lit up. It’s even more of a struggle to focus now.

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