Page 141 of The Faking Game

“I can’t wear a turtleneck on the beach.” The rough pad of his finger strokes along my neck. “But I brought makeup.”

“Smart.” His thumb strokes my skin one more time before he lets the fabric slide back up. “I should say I’m sorry. Ishouldbe sorry.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I like my mark on you.” He leans back in his chair. The distracted air he had earlier, when he chatted with my brother, is gone. His full focus is on me now.

“Asshole,” I half-whisper. Rafe is still gone, so I lean forward again. “You know what? I’ve been thinking of something to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Your first time,” I say. “Was it with someone special? Were you in love?”

His hand stills over the armrest. He doesn’t glance behind him, but I can tell he wants to. “Nora…”

“Considering it’s so important for me, I mean. That must mean that you had a good experience too?”

“I know what you’re getting at,” he says, “and you’re doing a great job at practice arguing, but this isnotthe best time for it.”

“I’m not arguing. Just asked you a simple question.”

“It was fine,” he says, “but I wasn’t in love and neither was she.”

“Different rules for you and different rules for me?”

His jaw works. “Yes.And that doesn’t mean I don’t?—”

The curtain parts and Rafe walks out with a bottle. “Look at this!” he says to me. He holds up the bottle. “Found West’s supply. He stocks the 2006 vintage.”

It’s produced by one of the champagne companies Maison Valmont owns.

“Of course I do,” West says. He looks the picture of ease again. Long legs stretched out, face blank. “Because I know how much you prefer the 2005.”

Rafe chuckles. “So it’s just to piss me off, is it?”

“Everything in my life is designed to piss you off,” West says smoothly.

Rafe grins at me. “Should we show him how a European drinks?”

“You’re both just as American as you are Swiss or French,” West says. “And I’ll win.”

“This is how the entire trip will be, isn’t it?” I ask. “You two are bad enough, but add in James and, god, Alex…”

Rafe grins. “If you want to stay by the pool for the whole trip, I’ll understand.”

I accept the glass he hands me. “Maybe I’ll join in.”

* * *

The villa overlooks the ocean.

It’s giant and bright, and it’s equipped with staff that are waiting for us on arrival. The villa manager shows us around, and I get a room on the second floor with bright white linens and French doors that open up to a balcony and the ocean. It’s breathtaking. Surrounded by the greenery and the sun, I breathe deeply.

There is no way the stalker followed me here.

For a few days, at least, he isn’t completely aware of my movements.

Alex is already there. He’s sitting out on the patio, and I grin when I see him.

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