Page 133 of Sinful Desires
Scarlett
“I’m coming with you.”
Nicholas snorted as he folded his Gucci sweater into his suitcase.
Tia, his outrageously expensive British Shorthair, leapt onto the bed and stretched out like a diva. I grabbed her before she could hiss and dropped her into my lap, running my fingers through her fur just to give my hands something to do.
Anything to keep from ripping my nails down to the quick.
It had been three days since the strip club. Three excruciating, soul-sucking days where I’d done nothing but rot in bed and cry into my overpriced Egyptian cotton sheets like a tragic teen whose parents had canceled her sweet sixteen because she’d crashed the Bentley.
I’d called Angelo the second we got home. Théo hadn’t said a word, just stormed into his room. The shower had kicked on seconds later.
It was nearly two in the morning when someone finally picked up.Jadie.
Apparently, Angelo was passed out cold, snoring on her chest like a lumberjack in love. She sounded half asleep, half amused, and fully nosy.
And yes, she’d confirmed it. Théo had worked at the rehab center. The one I was locked in. For a whole year.
Said it was part of his job. Something about contract obligations and professional discretion. But if it was just professional, why had he done it in secret? Why hadn’t he ever let me know he was there?
Why had he stayed in the shadows, watching me fall apart, when all I ever wanted was someone to see me?
And why the fuck had Angelo kept it from me too?
Then, because she was Jade, she’d asked, “So?…?is there anything going on between you two?”
I’d choked out a very dignified no, mid-snot.
She’d sighed. “Shame. He’s hot. You’re hot. That’s basic math, babe. Two hots equal fire. Explosions. Potential soul-bond sex. You’re literally wasting the universe’s symmetry.”
I had hung up before she could start doing astrological compatibility charts. Then I’d cried harder.
Nicholas didn’t even look up. “To set? Why?”
“I need out of New York. Spain sounds good. Sun, tapas, mojitos, fewer cameras trying to shove themselves down my throat. I’ll fake sanity in a bikini while you act your heart out. It’s perfect.”
He zipped his suitcase shut and disappeared into the bathroom.
Tia bit me before jumping off with a hiss, and right on cue, her twin Tamera strutted in like she paid the rent. I scooped her up and cradled her against my chest, heels ticking against the hardwood as I paced the room like I was waiting on a verdict.
Nicholas called out from the sink. “Change of plans, by the way. Director ditched Málaga. Said it was too expensive.”
I paused mid-step. “Where, then?”
“Nice.”
I froze. “Nice,France?”
My voice hit an octave that even startled me. Tamera dug her claws into my arm and launched herself onto the bed like I’d offended her personally.
Spoiled, violent heiresses in fur coats.
Nicholas reappeared, drying his hands, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. Apparently, the director’s got some buddy with a villa and a private beach. We’re there for four weeks, then back in time for the Oscars.”
What’s your favorite city?
Nice. I grew up near there. The water’s quieter. The sky burns in purples and pinks over the sea every night.
